Educating Auntie

Author's note: This is a work of fiction. It contains elements of incest and fetish sex. If these subjects are not to your taste, move on and find a story that does comply with your interests. All characters are over eighteen years of age, and all sexual acts described are consensual. Please consider leaving a comment if you do get to the end. I like to know what my readers think of my tales.

There was no easy way to say it. I was in a bad mood, and not even a bowl of my favourite aromatic tobacco in my beautiful, dainty lady churchwarden pipe could alter the fact. What had brought on this feeling? Let me explain.

My name is Olwen. I'm forty five years old and I've been married to Richard for over twenty five years. For nearly all of those years Richard has been a cuckold, and I have had some wonderful times with various boyfriends. Especially Jason, a thirty-something, fit, handsome devil who happened to have the most beautiful cock it has been my privilege to service. The only complaint I could think of where Jason was concerned was that he refused to allow Richard to watch us fucking. And he didn't like being cleaned up when he'd had me either.

Taunting and teasing Richard has always floated my boat ever since I dipped my toes into the Hot Wife/cuckold lifestyle, and it turned Richard on to see me being fucked. So when Jason banned him from watching us, both Richard and I were disappointed. But that was no longer a problem. Just half an hour ago, I had settled down in my favourite armchair with a cup of coffee and my pipe to enjoy a post lunch smoke. I was due to see Jason later on this evening, and my clit was tingling as I thought of how he would fill me with his beautiful cock.

The phone on the table next to me rang, and Richard scurried in from the kitchen, where he was loading the dishwasher, to answer it. I don't answer the phone in my house. In fact, there is very little I do domestically. What's the point when you have a submissive cuckold to do everything that is necessary?

Richard handed me the receiver. "Mister Jason would like a word with you, dear" he said in his lovely deep voice. I took the phone from him and Richard returned to the kitchen to finish his chores.

"Hello, big boy," I began with a huge grin on my face. "I was just thinking about you and what we are going to be doing later on. I hope you are well rested? I fancy having both my holes fucked tonight and I also want your lovely cock in my mouth too."

"That ain't gonna happen, Olwen," Jason replied roughly. "I'm phoning to call off our little arrangement."

I can't pretend that I wasn't disappointed, but I hate to sound needy, so I kept my voice cheerful.

"That's ok," I replied. "I know how busy you are. When do you want to reschedule? Tomorrow is good for me, even if it is a Sunday. Or shall we leave it till the weekend?"

"You dumb bitch," he responded. "You don't get it do you? I don't want to reschedule. It's over. I can't cope with the lifestyle you and Richard live. I've met someone who thinks like me, that cheating is wrong. I'm going to marry her and be faithful from now on. I despise your lifestyle, Olwen. Don't phone me ever again. I'm finished with you and your disgusting, perverted ways."

"What the hell has brought this on?" I spluttered into the phone, but I was talking to the dialling tone. The bastard had hung up on me! I flung the phone away from me. It hit the wall with a crash and landed on the wooden floor. Richard raced in from the kitchen.

"Are you alright, dear?" he asked anxiously. I explained to him what had happened and he came over and kissed me on the cheek.

"You'll soon find another lover," he said kindly. "If I was better equipped, I'd pleasure you myself, but I know that my tiny cock just isn't up to the task. Let's go down to the club tonight. I don't know if there's anything special on, but maybe you'll strike lucky straight away. You're so beautiful that I reckon you'll have no trouble finding a new boyfriend."

I smiled gratefully at him, and rubbed his cock through his trousers. He immediately got hard, but Richard fully hard isn't as big, or as thick as my index finger. I puffed on my pipe and blew a stream of creamy aromatic smoke at him. He closed his eyes and murmured in pleasure. As well as being an enthusiastic cuckold, Richard has a huge smoking fetish.

He always says that the first time he set eyes on me, in a pub in the town where we both lived at the time, he was determined to marry me. (Smoking was still allowed in pubs in those days.) He'd never seen a woman smoking a pipe, and it gave him an immediate hard-on. He was good looking, polite, amusing and very attentive and I found him very attractive. We married a year later.

I continued to massage his cock whilst I smoked. It crossed my mind to allow him to get his cock out and have a wank, but no sooner had the thought entered my head than the phone rang again. At least my tantrum throwing it away hadn't broken it. I dropped my hand from Richard's cock and he went to answer it.

I could tell from the look on his face that whoever it was on the other end of the phone wasn't someone who called regularly. I heard Richard say "She's out in the garden at the moment. Hang on, I'll just go and get her."

I looked at him in astonishment. He put his hand over the phone and whispered to me, "It's your sister."

At this point, I should explain that my older sister and I don't get on. We have barely exchanged two dozen words since we fell out many years ago, just after I got married. In a badly managed conversation, I stupidly let on that I had made Richard my cuckold. She was outraged, especially as she was already happily married to her dull, staid husband George, who wore the same pin striped suit to the tax office every day, and who probably only fucked Mildred in the missionary position on a Friday night, with the light off.

I knew that he did fuck her, because they had between them produced my nephew, Matthew, who would probably be in his early twenties by now. I hadn't seen, or spoken to him in years, and if the truth be told, I'd almost forgotten about his existence. My estranged family still lived in the town where I had been born and grown up. Unlike me, Mildred had not gone to university. She left school to become a secretary, which is where she met George. When they married, she gave up her job and became a housewife. I hated the thought of following in her footsteps, so I worked hard, went to university and became a teacher. I moved away when I got my first teaching post, met Richard, and... well, you know the rest of the story.

I took the phone from Richard and shrugged my shoulders at him. He stood solicitously at my side, in case I needed his support.

"Hello, Mildred," I began brightly. "This is a surprise. How are you this long time?"

"We are both very well, thank you, Olwen," replied my sister stiffly. "I hope Richard is well too? He's an angel to have stuck with you after how you treated him."

"Richard and I are still as deeply in love as when we first met," I said sternly, " but I'm sure that you didn't pick up the phone for the first time in over a decade to enquire about the state of my marriage? I don't have a boyfriend at the moment," I continued truthfully, "but even if I did, Richard would know about it and he'd support my decision, I know."

I puffed my pipe and smiled at Richard who nodded his agreement.

"You're right," I heard Mildred say, much to my surprise. "It's no business of mine what you get up to. All I know is that if George was ever unfaithful to me, I'd divorce him straight away. Not that that's likely," she continued warmly. "George is a wonderful husband. Supportive and undemanding. We get on so well, even after all these years."

"Fascinating," I replied, although my sarcasm was lost on my sister. "So what can I do for you, Milly." I asked. She had always hated my calling her Milly, but it went unremarked upon today. She must want something very badly, I thought.

"It's Matthew," Mildred replied. "He's finished his degree and is about to do a post-graduate certificate of education."

"You mean Matthew's going to be a teacher?" I said. "How wonderful! I still think of him in short trousers!"

"Yes, well he's twenty one, almost twenty two now," Mildred said proudly. "He's about to start his first teaching practice, and he's been sent to a school in your town."

"What's the name of the school?" I interrupted sharply.

"Oh, I don't know, and Matthew's not here now," replied my hopelessly vague sister. "I told him that I'd ring you and ask if you'd be willing to give him some advice on how to get through this teaching practice session."

"Of course I will. I'd be delighted to help him," I replied truthfully. "We need more men in the primary school sector. Tell him to give me a ring when he gets home, and we can arrange to meet after school on Monday. He'll know where he's been sent and what year group he'll be teaching by then. I can give him some advice and make sure he does well on his teaching prac."

I got the impression that having achieved what she'd set out to do, Mildred didn't want to hang about making small talk. She concluded our discussion, and thanked me before putting the phone down.

I looked at Richard in amazement, and explained to him what had just happened.

"Maybe this is the opportunity to reconcile yourself with your sister " he said loyally. I kissed him.

"I told her I didn't have a current boyfriend," I smiled, "and that was true. But I definitely feel like getting fucked tonight. You mentioned going to the club later on tonight? Let's do it. If I find someone, you can have a lovely fresh cream pie when we get home!"

We did go to the club that night. It's our town's version of a fetish club, I suppose. It's not exclusively a fetish club, but many swingers, hotwives, wannabe cuckolds and dominant and submissive people use it to meet up and play. When we arrived, it was quite full, and there was some sort of batchelor party karaoke thing going on, which was definitely promising as far as picking up a stranger and getting myself fucked was concerned.

Unfortunately, I didn't manage that. I did give one of the young men a blow job in the toilet, with Richard peeping through a crack in the door of one of the stalls. When he'd cum in my mouth, he disappeared with a shy, grateful grin, and I was able to give Richard a lovely cum-flavoured kiss. We went home soon after that, and I put his cock sheath on him and we fucked. Richard was permitted to worship me after I'd cum, and he was content that his tiny balls were nicely full and tender, something he loved to keep his mind focussed on what was most important in life - pleasing me!

When I went downstairs for breakfast the next morning, Richard informed me that there was a message for me on the answerphone. When I played it, it became obvious that Matthew had phoned back whilst we were out in the club. He sounded disappointed not to have been able to talk to me, but he promised to ring again after his first day at school. The silly boy didn't leave any address of where he was staying, or the name of the school where he would be based for his teaching practice. I shrugged, erased the message and went into the kitchen to eat the breakfast that my devoted cuckold had prepared for me. I reminded myself that I needed to find a new boyfriend if Richard was to retain his cuckold status.

Sundays always followed the same pattern in our household. I did my preparation for the next week of school in the mornings, whilst Richard prepared and cooked dinner. Whilst he was washing up and was cleaning the kitchen, I usually lounged around reading and/or smoking. If I had a date planned, Richard would then dress me and see what I'd be wearing for my boyfriend's pleasure. Since Jason had dumped me, that was no longer an option. We spent the rest of Sunday watching some inane drama on the television, and went to bed early. Richard pleasured me with his tongue, and after I'd had three gorgeous orgasms, we spooned and tried to go to sleep.

"I love the taste of your cunt," Richard murmured sleepily, "but it isn't the same when you don't have a cunt full of cum for me to clean up."

I could feel his little boy's cock twitching and throbbing between the cheeks of my arse, and I smiled to myself contentedly. One of the benefits of being a hotwife is keeping your cuckold frustrated and unfulfilled. I resolved to get myself another boyfriend very quickly, and fell asleep with that promise to myself in the forefront of my mind.

Just as the weekend days had their own pattern, so did workdays. Richard made breakfast and I ate it quickly and went off to school. Richard has his own civil engineering company, so he goes into work later than I do, which gives him plenty of time to tidy the house before leaving to get to his office.

It was just after eight o'clock on that Monday morning when I drove into the school car park and got out of my car, ready for another week of teaching. As I made my way to my classroom, I passed the head teacher's office. I didn't stop, but I did call out, "Good morning, Deborah" as I passed.

"Olwen, bright and early as usual," replied my colleague. "Pop in here for a minute, will you please? There's something that I forgot to mention on Friday before we all left."

My heart sank. Deborah is the kindest, most thoughtful colleage anyone could wish for, but as the head teacher of a primary school in a very challenging area of the town, she was an absolute disaster. The children took advantage of her kind nature, and her discipline was non-existant. She spent so much time in meetings and on various courses that she was rarely in school on any two consecutive days. I went into her office, smiling brightly, but dreading what she was about to tell me. It was never good news when Deborah 'forgot' to keep her staff fully up to date.

"Good weekend?" Deborah began, fiddling nervously with some papers on the desk in front of her.

"Very nice, thank you," I replied, looking pointedly at my watch. Deborah knows that I prefer to get to my classroom early, and set everything out by the time the children arrive at nine o'clock.

Deborah cleared her throat and, not looking at me, mumbled an apology. "I'm terribly sorry, Olwen," she began. "Christine told me on Friday that she is not coming back to school. I spent so much time trying to arrange for a supply teacher that it completely slipped my mind to tell you or the rest of the staff."

I looked at her in amazement, and she had the grace to blush and apologise again. Christine was a young teacher, desperate to start a family with her husband. She'd suffered several miscarriages, so when she proudly announced in the staff room that she was once again pregnant, everybody was delighted for her.

Except that a pregnant Christine meant no yard duty, no standing (or sitting) for long periods, no after-school club supervision and definitely no dinner time duty, as the smell of cooked food made her nauseous. In short, Christine was taking all her colleagues for a ride. It was a relief to hear that she was taking time off until the baby arrived.

"Well, did you manage to get a supply teacher?" I asked, testily. I knew that if she hadn't, Deborah would have to teach Christine's class herself, and they were a lively bunch at the best of times. With her discipline record, Deborah would lose control within ten minutes, I knew.

She smiled at me. "Yes, of course I did! I'm expecting her by half past eight. Will you show her where the staff room and the staff toilets are?"

"Yes, of course," I agreed, turning to get to my classroom.

"Oh, one other thing," smiled Deborah. "I also forgot to mention that we have two student teachers here for the rest of this term. I knew you'd be in early, so I've sent them down to your classroom. One of them will be with you, the other wants to do early years training, so she can go to Claire's class for the rest of the term. Can you sort that out please?"

"Give me fucking strength!" I thought to myself quietly as I nodded and went out, resisting the temptation to slam the door as hard as I could.

When I got to my classroom, I could hear the murmur of voices. I went in, and two young people, a woman and a man, immediately got to their feet.

"Good morning both," I said brightly. "I'm Mrs. Simpson. Now who do we have here?"

"I'm Alison Howells," said the young woman offering her hand to shake. "I want to be an early years teacher. Are you going to be my mentor whilst I'm on teaching prac. here?"

I shook my head, and gave her her hand back. "I teach year five " I said. "Ms. Claire Fisher teaches in the reception class. She should be in soon. I'll take you down there in a minute."

I turned to the young man.

"So it follows that if Alison is going to the reception class, you must be staying here with me," I smiled. "What's your name?"

"M...Mrs... Simpson?" he stammered, but grinning broadly. "Aunty Olwen?"

I looked at him in amazement.

"Matthew?" I said in amazement, before giggling rather unprofessionally.

"You know each other?" asked Alison in disbelief.

"Matthew is my sister's son my nephew " I explained, adding hurriedly, "we don't see much of each other as we live so far apart. I haven't seen Matthew in over fifteen years."

If she thought this was very strange, Alison had the good sense to keep her thoughts to herself. I took her down to the reception class, warning her on the way that if it got out that Matthew was my nephew, it wouldn't do her assessment at the end of term any good at all. She obviously understood my implied threat, and promised to keep the information to herself.

Back in my own classroom, I gave Matthew the same warning about keeping our family relationship a secret. He grinned broadly. (I was to discover that Matthew grinned a lot.)

"Well it saves me the cost of a phone call," he said cheekily. "And you can give me excellent advice as to how to impress my mentor on this teaching prac!"

I shook my head in exasperation.

"We keep this strictly professional," I warned him sternly. "I am Mrs. Simpson at all times in school. You will be Mr. Woods. Later on this morning, in the staff room, I'll tell you to stop calling me Mrs. Simpson in front of our colleagues, as it makes me feel old. But never, ever call me Aunty. Olwen will do fine. Understand?"

Matthew nodded his assent, accompanied by yet another grin.

When the children filed into the classroom, I made them sit on the carpet, as usual, and I introduced Mr. Woods who would be with us until the end of term. As I called the register, I asked each child to stand up, so that Matthew could begin to associate names with faces. I was impressed that he already had a notebook and pen out and was making some notes to help himself.

Throughout the day, Matthew was able to work with each of the five groups that my class was split up into. Even though I was teaching as well, I kept my eye on him, and was impressed by the way he dealt with the children. He was encouraging, supportive and enthusiastic, and when he needed to, he came down firmly on any inappropriate behaviour.

We sat down in an empty classroom at the end of the day. I smiled at my nephew.

"Well, that's your first day over," I said. "How did you find it?"

"I really enjoyed myself," he replied, flashing his trademark grin. "All I need to do now is prepare my lessons for tomorrow. What would you like to see me doing? I'm supposed to take whole class lessons as well as work with individual groups."

We discussed how I expected him to operate whilst he was in my class, and quickly reached an agreement. He was to introduce the lesson to the whole class, explain the different group tasks which would be based on the subject, and then he and I would move between groups, helping and observing as they worked.