Simone Comes Home
"It's perfectly alright, dear." Clarice says, rises slightly from her reclining position in the patio chair. She's looking towards the open sliding glass doors where a young woman I recognize as her niece, Simone, stands clutching a small travel case.
I watch Simone's expression as her eyes scan the scene of her aunt and I in our lounge chairs with our afternoon cocktails and, reclining across from us, a thirty something male of whom Clairice had insisted 'You simply
must
see him. He's absolutely delicious!' It's unclear from Simone's expression whether she would agree with her aunt on that; there being, perhaps, a bit too much information presented on the subject for her to process on the fly, having just walked in on us unexpectedly.
"CiCi," Simone says rather blankly, her brows knitted, her eyes scanning from her aunt to the male who reclines in the chair across from us, then to me, then back again to "CiCi," she repeats "what are you..."
"Sorry if we startled you dear." Clairice says soothingly. "Your mother said you weren't due back till Tuesday and so we could..." she breaks off, noting as I do that Simone's gaze has strayed now quite intently back to the male who...
"Ah, fuck." he sighs softly and takes his hand away from the erect penis he's been languidly stroking for Clairice and I as we relax and decide what further use, if any, we want to make of him.
It is, to give Clairice her due, a fairly delicious penis; large without being carnivalesque, circumcised to display a prominent, bulbous head and paired with - I affirm my appraisal again as he moans and rolls his pelvis up and under to better display or, as my internal narrator prefers to see it, 'offer' - a set of large and entertainingly responsive balls I have enjoyed watching as they periodically lift upwards and separate, stretching the scrotum tight across the root of his cock, or relax back down to hang more loosely as he varies the stimulation applied to the penis.
The male's response tells me he interprets Simone and her arrival as a welcome and exciting (certainly to him) addition to the number of women potentially interested in making use of him. As to the particulars of that display, it is a conditioned response for a male in service; it hardly requires 'training' it is such a reflexive and pleasurable act for them to display their eagerness and plead for the privilege of serving any woman or group of women by offering up their balls in this way. The form of the display will vary depending upon the position of the male at the time, but offering the balls is a confession of vulnerability and submission.
I find myself torn between my own conditioned pleasure response at seeing a well hung male submit this way; the visceral twinge of arousal and entitlement it triggers to see the strong thighs spread wide, the feet planted firmly to lift the hips, the tight clench of his ass as he strains to curl the pelvis under to lift and offer his balls; and my realization that a young woman not (to my knowledge at least) acclimated or conditioned as I am, walking in unexpectedly on a naked and erect male masturbating might not have a similar reaction when, rather than 'covering up' or taking some other socially expected 'evasive' action at being 'discovered in a compromising position' (oh, the glories of polite euphemism!), the male instead moans "Ah fuck!" and... you get the picture (I restrain my narrative urges, for all I might enjoy describing it for you again).
I don't want to offend Simone's sexual sensibilities. But, on the other hand, just
look
at him. If Simone's unexpected arrival is going to interfere with or restrain my use and enjoyment of that, of him, I will be deeply disappointed.
"Really, dear, it's perfectly fine." Clairice says. "I mean, I've told both you and your mother that I occasionally..."
"Yeah." Simone says distractedly, her brows still knitted in either consternation or bemusement, "But I thought you were just..." she shakes her head slightly as if trying to clear it.
"What? Just joking?" Clairice asks with a laugh, but it is an uneasy laugh. "Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" clears her throat. "Like this?" she tries to seem unruffled, but I can see that slight wince as she continues in a more apologetic tone; "I mean, it isn't a complete surprise, is it? I always try to be open, with family especially. I don't like secrets and..."
"Yeah," Simone waves this away with a weak sweep of her free hand, "you always say that. But I guess I... uhnm." She tilts her head slightly to one side, her gaze fixed between the wide spread legs of the male. "So, this is really..." she frowns and her eyes swing back now to her aunt, "what you do." she finishes.
I can't read her. She hasn't fainted or run away, but her body seems poised in that open door as if still debating the later.
"I can see you're troubled, dear." Clairice says.
But the more I watch Simone as she turns her attention back to the spread, erect male, I'm thinking, is she actually troubled, or just needing a moment to adjust?
"But, look," Clairice continues, "we're all adults here."
Aunty tries to normalize things a bit. But while technically accurate; we are indeed 'all adults'; the age disparity between the middle-aged Clairice (let alone my own forty odd years) and her 19 year old niece is not insignificant in terms of maturity and life experience. And, as 'open' as Clairice may have been about her recreational pursuits, there's 'information' (titillating or otherwise) and then there's reality; like that late twenty to early thirties erect male with the (just ask aunty) delicious penis who... yeah, then there's reality.
"You've met my friend Laura." Clairice continues, I'm thinking somewhat doggedly, trying to defuse whatever familial time-bomb she may fear she's pressed the 'go' button on. "And you know Bradley." She says with a slight grimace, motioning towards...
"Isn't he supposed to be your...?" Simone starts to ask but breaks off, her gaze lifting to meet Bradley's briefly before settling again, but as it seems to me more appraisingly, back between his legs. "Yeah, right, this is Bradley, huh?" causing him to moan softly again and buck his hips in pleasure at her attention.
"My web guy, yes. And he is." Clairice says quickly. "My web guy, I mean."
"So, is this, what, like, part of his job?" Simone asks but I note the tension in her forehead seems to have eased, her expression softened.
"No, no, of course not!" Clairice says. "But, you see, there are a few links and features of the site he was building for me that contain, well... Still, it was all very professional; the web design part of it anyway. But there was no way he could do the work without at least noticing some of the content. And so, we got talking and..."
"Does Mom know you're here?" Simone cuts this off, and I'm seeing something different in her expression now, her eyes narrowed at Clairice almost as if she suspects this was an intentional ambush. "She knows you're doing this," a pause for emphasis, "here?"
"Of course." Clairice answers somewhat defensively. "I mean, you know your mother, she doesn't ask for details, but she has no problem with me using the patio and pool when..." breaks off, "Honestly dear, we all thought you'd be gone till Tuesday. I hope there wasn't some problem with the interview or..."
"No. No problem. The interviews went fine." Simone waves this away casually, "Just..." and for the first time I think I catch just the glimmer of a faint smile as her gaze swings back to, "So this is Bradley." she states rather than asks.
"Ahn, fuck, yes!" Bradley answers, his voice tight.
He had settled back in the interim, perhaps realizing (belatedly) that this new arrival might not be just another sportswoman come to play. But Simone's shift in demeanor renews his hopes. He raises his hips up off of the lounge once more, his feet planted wide on either side, offering a nice reprise view of his tightly clenched, runner's ass as he strains to display his non-web related qualifications.
"You had him jerking off?" Simone asks. "You were gonna watch him jerk off?" she reformulates slightly.
Clairice meets my gaze, obviously a bit disconcerted by this shift in her niece's demeanor. I lift my brows in the universal sign of; 'you're-asking-
me
?' with the unspoken related corollary of 'she's-
your
-fucking-niece!' Because, though I know Clairice pretty well, I've only met her sister (Simone's mom) briefly a few times and Simone only twice before. I have no idea what the family dynamics are here. Simone's mom may or may not have an understanding, even accommodating view of Clairice's 'eccentricities', but may also harbor (I'm speculating here) an understandable 'NOT WITH MY DAUGHTER YOU DON'T!' attitude toward those same eccentricities. Yet, knowing Clarice, I have a feeling her claim that she's been 'open' about these things with her niece implies she's conveyed a bit more than generalities in her quest not to have 'secrets'. So, setting the 'mom' question aside, if I were to offer an opinion (which I definitely will not) the vibe I'm getting from Simone is something like this:
Simone is young. Yes, she was surprised, startled even, to walk in unexpectedly on her aunt and I enjoying ourselves with 'Bradley'. It took her a moment to get her bearings and also some effort to counteract that instinctive social response to withdraw from an unexpectedly intimate scene. But after her initial surprise it registers, if at first only vaguely, that there's something familiar to her about the whole 'aunty likes to play with naked men' paradigm. Simone knew this already about aunt 'CiCi', didn't she?
Knowing isn't the same as walking in and seeing it. But Simone is acting in a way that suggests she's given the matter of her aunt's recreational activities at least some thought before this. And, of course, Simone
was
curious. So (again, this is my guess) she did a little internet browsing with key search terms. And even though porn video cfnm is more for males with a humiliation fetish and less for women (like yours truly) who have a sporting and coinsurer's attitude toward the use and enjoyment of men, the general idea likely got across.
As a healthy young woman of a certain assertive, self-confident disposition; let's say, as in the present example, the type who would go by herself to a campus interview for a prestigious pre-law program, apparently ace it, then rebook her own plane reservations without informing anyone and come home unexpectedly early; for a young woman of a certain temperament, the images and ideas of women using males for sport and entertainment in this way could have some appeal. For that type of young woman, initial 'curiosity' might blossom into something more robust and experimental. That is, if given an opportunity.
"CiCi," Simone prompts when Aunty still hesitates, "he was gonna jerk off for you, right?"
Clarice gives me a pained expression, raises a brow. I shrug; not my place to say. But my read of the situation is, whatever the family politics may be, this young woman is ready and itching now to get her CFNM boots wet.
Clairice turns away from me to look back at her niece.
"Simone, we were just..." she starts.
"He was jerking off." Simone interrupts with a slight flash of irritation. "I saw what you had him doing." She sets her travel case down somewhat decisively to one side on the stone tiling, takes a step out onto the patio.
That does it. It's clear to me she isn't going anywhere.
"Actually," I offer with an appeasing glance towards Clarice, "he was auditioning for the chance to do that for me, or maybe to entertain us some other way."
I can see this sudden prurient candor has some effect. Expecting a bit more resistance, maybe an attempt to persuade her to leave, Simone's expression shifts, she sniffs and crosses her arms, looking at me with her head tilted slightly to one side as she considers...
"So, you mean you, this is like a thing with both of you." It's something between a question and a statement; rhetorical, verbal filler to make space for her to adjust.
"Using males for CFNM sport, you mean?" I ask easily, and sense Clairice wincing slightly beside me. "Like Bradley here." I add, motioning towards him casually.
