Previous chapters have been in the incest/taboo category.
The next chapter will be the final one, but having set the scene for another party it needed one further chapter before the grand finale.
I had several ideas for role-play but they would have borrowed too heavily from other stories I've written or intend to.
In the end I decided that in any case a group of swingers into role play probably wouldn't worry unduly about how realistic (or not) it was! So, strangely although the role-play scenario described lacks some credibility, it is probably quite realistic as the kind of thing that people might choose to act out.
Thanks for your patience and kind comments/feedback so far. I will try to complete the final chapter before too long, but please be patient –I only have limited time available and each chapter takes quite a few hours from first draft to final edit and submission!
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The next few days I spent on a high. Aunt Anne and I didn't have sex every night, but she did invite me to share her bed each night, and we had sex a couple of evenings and one morning. One evening we shared a shower, with the window and blind closed for safety, which was delightful. The shower gel made our hands and bodies slippery and sensual, and it was fun to wash and caress each other at the same time. Despite one or two slight hitches (it was my first time in the shower!) we managed to consummate our passion standing under the jetting water.
Another morning she felt sorry for me in my horny state and before setting off for work she relieved me with her hand as I fondled her little breasts through her smart work blouse. She then quickly kissed me goodbye, washed her hands, and dashed off. The hurriedness of it all made it seem very tawdry and squishy.
Each morning and evening we were careful to open and close the curtains and to switch on and off the lights of each bedroom at separate times to maintain the illusion of sleeping separately.
As I did a few odd jobs around her new house and garden it was hard not to imagine her at her workplace. I felt the accustomed twinges of shame as I thought about our naughty secret and imagined her trying to sound non-committal at her desk as others asked how her nephew's visit was going – and about whether she had had a nice weekend!
My phone call home during that week was tricky. Talking to my dad on the phone in the knowledge that in a few hours' time I would be sleeping beside his naked sister was especially shame-inducing, and I was in no mood for sex with Aunt Anne that night. But the following morning we indulged. It was fairly rushed because it was a weekday and Aunt Anne had to go to work. But the relative brevity of our sex – which by now was more like making love – was nevertheless intense.
As I have mentioned before, my shame and guilt troubled me greatly, but at the same time they added to the heady excitement. Aunt Anne clearly felt the same way.
And, as well as enjoying each other, we had the prospect of another party at Bill and Lucy's that next Saturday.
"You must have made quite an impression, James – we only usually meet once a month!" Aunt Anne chuckled. She had also received another text suggesting that she bring along her role-play suggestion cards.
It was even more exciting than the previous time, of course. The previous weekend only Lucy had been aware of my desire for my aunt, and she had in fact helped to engineer its resolution, and had even pleasured herself to climax as she spectated. Aunt Anne assured me that Lucy would have adhered to the "rules" of their little swingers' club, and would not have mentioned our secret even to her husband, Bill.
This all meant that, although we didn't talk about it, Aunt Anne and I would find ourselves in an even greater predicament this time. We would have to decide whether to strive to keep the secret of our mutual desire and of its fulfilment, whether to let them guess, or even – and the prospect both terrified and thrilled me – to come clean about the illicitness of our relationship and maybe even agree to partner each other.
The more I thought about it the more difficult it became to decide for myself which I would rather do. And, as I say, I didn't feel able to talk about it to Aunt Anne.
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The big night arrived, and Aunt Anne took a little longer to get ready than the previous time, and arrived downstairs with an overnight case instead of just the previous week's carrier bag. She must have seen my puzzled expression, as she grinned and said that as role-play was on the agenda she wanted to take some additional clothes. My stomach gave a churn of intrigued delight.
She was wearing a blue and green floral print sundress with buttons at the front from top to bottom. She left the bottom two open, which gave modest glimpses of her long, well toned legs. Her dress looked very feminine and pretty, and although its fit was modest, the size and shape of her little breasts were evident. I gazed too at her strong looking legs below the knee-length hem, and to the way the slightly loose fit swung against them and flapped open just slightly and teasingly to her lower thigh.
We both seemed to feel a little tense on the outward journey, and spoke little. Perhaps like me my aunt was considering the dilemma of the turn in our relationship and how to handle it at the party. She invited me to rest my hand on her thigh as she drove, though, on the condition that I didn't overdo it. So I placed my perspiring hand there, keeping it mainly still but from time to time stroking it and kneading it gently.
A car pulled alongside at traffic lights and, knowing that they could not see, I inched my hand mid way up her thigh and slid my finger between two of her dress buttons. Her skin was warm and deliciously soft.
Glancing at the oblivion of the adjacent driver I rubbed my finger against her skin. It felt deliciously naughty to be doing this secretly yet publicly – especially as the lady in question was my dad's sister. Aunt Anne caught me glancing at the other car. She grinned, and parted her legs a little further, then took my hand and placed it right at the top of her thigh.
"Give Auntie's pussy a little rub then, James!" she murmured. "You know they can't see or even guess!"
I blushed with excitement, and unfastened the button nearest to my target. We masked what we were doing by not looking down, and by looking instead straight ahead or glancing around as we waited for the light to change. She gave a little gasp as my fingers touched her slit through her lacy panties.
The traffic lights changed soon after. She pulled away, and I withdrew my hand. I nonchalantly raised my fingers to my nose, as if scratching it, but in reality it was to inhale her scent. I placed my hand on her thigh once more and contented myself with sporadic caresses and kneadings. I was hard, and we hadn't even arrived at the party!
We were welcomed by Bill, and stepped inside. I felt more nervous – but more excited, too – than on our previous visit. On that occasion the true nature of the party was sprung upon me after our arrival. Now I knew what to expect.
Aunt Anne and I headed upstairs with our overnight things. We were to use the same bedrooms –separate of course – as we had the previous week. We then headed downstairs to join the others. Aunt Anne had in her hand a handful of small cards. I recognised them as the role-play scenarios. Half were pale blue; the others were pale green. My stomach gave a little churn of excitement and nerves.
It was a warm evening and we all sat outside for a while. A few doors away a family was having a barbecue. Their children laughed, talked loudly and argued. We sat chatting about trivia, but our purpose and enjoyment were far from innocent. We shamelessly ran our eyes over each other.
Caroline was wearing a pink tee shirt that showed off an inch of deep cleavage in her pale skin. Her breasts seemed to fill her tee shirt, and I gazed as they rose and fell under the pink cotton. Over it, under her midriff, she wore a thick black belt that emphasised her waist and ripe bust. She was also wearing a fairly smart navy blue skirt with a modest slit in the back. It flared out a little to its hem. When she crossed her leg she made no attempt to pull her skirt hem forward. I could only see half way up her thighs, but her willingness to show them off to us all was very thrilling.
Caroline was wearing a calf-length, loose fitting floral skirt, mainly yellow and brown. I would have preferred her in a shorter one, but she was wearing a canary yellow wrap-around top that tied in a bow over her belly. She was evidently not wearing a bra, and although her breasts were only a modest B-cup, they were slightly soft and pendulous, and quivered with each move she made.
It may have been coincidental though, more likely, it was planned, but Lucy sat sideways-on to the sun. Coincidental or deliberate, the sun back-lit the shape of her bra-less breasts, shining through the loose cotton under them but leaving her orbs themselves in shadow so that their shape was illuminated. It was a spellbinding view, and once or twice I thought I could make out her nipple-ring through her top.
I had to resist the urge to gaze on my Aunt Anne in her blue button-through sundress, and fought back the memory of my fingers poking between those very buttons on the journey down. Bill was wearing cotton drill trousers and a short sleeved tailored shirt. Jack wore a polo shirt and fawn chinos. I was wearing a white, large-check shirt and navy chinos.
After half an hour or so we headed inside. My heart was thumping with anticipation. The vertical blinds of the lounge were open, presumably to avoid arousing undue neighbourly suspicion, and also presumably indicating that nothing much would be happening in the lounge for a while. There were a few cans of beer and a bottle of wine on the coffee table.
Bill loaded a different softcore movie than the previous week's on the DVD player, with the sound turned down. Again the two dice and small sheets of paper were on the coffee table to determine who would partner whom. Lucy kept beaming at me and running her gaze over me to the point of embarrassment, and her nervous mannerisms of licking her lip and of drawing her lower lip under her upper one caught my eye. I knew that they were simply habits of hers, but again to me they seemed very suggestive and erotic.
After a few minutes I was invited to shake the dice. I've already explained how this worked, so won't go into detail. Suffice to say that after some initial deliberation and a statement that Aunt Anne and I could not be together "of course" (at which point Lucy shot my aunt and I a fleeting but knowing look) the shaking of the dice decreed two groups, one group of four and a pair. Aunt Anne was to partner Jack for the first session and the rest of us – Bill, Lucy, Caroline and I – were to form a foursome.
Aunt Anne shuffled the green role-play cards and held them out to Lucy. I guessed that the green cards were for groups and the blue for pairs.
