This is a story of MILD seduction with initial reluctance, and not one of forcing, which I have no wish to condone or encourage, and it should be considered a fantasy story only.
As with some of my previous stories, this is in in two parts (partly to prevent a single episode from being too long and also to build up a tease).
This may or may not appeal - but I've explained this at the outset, so bear this in mind especially if leaving comments.
Thanks for the constructive comments and feedback to previous submissions - they are much appreciated!
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Mike really couldn't decide whether it was good or bad that he was in the house alone with her.
Sue had been his mother's best friend for longer than he could remember and was staying with them for a while. She was in the process of moving house. The purchase of the house she was buying had hit snags and was now delayed. She had been trying to sell her own house for over a year, with little interest until now. The couple buying it were very keen but were becoming so impatient that they were threatening to pull out of buying it. She had set her heart on the one for which she had made an offer, too.
Rather than risk losing both the sale and the purchase, she had considered moving out of her own house and into rented property until she could move into the other one. But Mike's mother had persuaded her to have most of her stuff put into storage and to move in with her until everything was sorted out. There was only her and Mike in the house. Besides, she got on so well with Sue that she was anxious to help her out.
Mike had always liked Sue and, as often happened in those days, he had been brought up to call her "auntie". It was thought disrespectful for children to call close friends of parents by their first names, but to call them "Miss" or "Mrs" followed by their surname was far too formal. "Uncle" and "Auntie" were commonly used, therefore, for family friends. So Mike had always thought of her as "Aunt" Sue.
She had never married but had had several medium to long term relationships over the years he had known her. She seemed content enough and was usually happy, even jovial.
Over the past years and a half, though, Mike had become sexually drawn to her. She was always smartly dressed (though not necessarily flashily or provocatively so). Her dark, wavy hair was always nicely groomed -- in a "big" style, brushed up and away from her head and lacquered -- and she wore a discreet amount of makeup that made the best of her features without making her look cheap. She was short in height and petite in build, five feet three inches tall and a UK dress size 12. Her breasts were a B-cup. He knew. He had seen -- and secretly fondled -- some of her clothes and underwear often enough when she wasn't around.
If she noticed him looking at her she didn't let on. Mike wondered in fact whether she secretly enjoyed and encouraged it. Being twenty years old and with a strong sex drive, he was bound to tell himself that this was the case. But even when he made allowance for his wishful thinking it was hard not to wonder.
She had always been fairly tactile, and was like that with most people. But Mike was sure that she was now a little more tactile with him than she was with others, or even than she used to be with him. Her hand would linger on his arm slightly longer than it used to. He was sure that she stood an inch or two closer to him than she had previously, and sometimes when they were sharing a joke, even when his mother was in the room, Aunt Sue would make eye contact with him, and maintain it deliberately for a moment or two rather than just fleetingly. It was almost as if she was flirting with him.
As well as this, she would leave her clothes on the clothes maiden longer than was really necessary. He couldn't decide whether this was just untidiness or whether there was a more deliberate decision to do so on her part. His mother complained to him behind her friend's back but said nothing to her directly.
"And I do wish she would at least put her underwear away. It's not very nice having her bras and knickers hanging up for half a day or more after they've aired off, is it, Mike?" she had commented a few days earlier.
"Er.. no, I suppose not, Mum," he had replied non-comittally.
The fact was of course that he could not agree less, He thought it was EXTREMELY nice to see her friend's underwear hanging on the clothes maiden. When he could, he admired it, stroked and caressed it, nuzzled it with his lips, imagining Aunt Sue inside it. He loved the appearance of it, and the feel of it. He loved the slight scratchiness of her lace bras and panties, and the softness of her satin ones. He especially liked her white nylon camisole with its shaped bust, and her red, shimmering, nylon nightdress. He would put his hand inside it and kiss and nuzzle it, pretending it was her body underneath rather than his own hand.
Again, he couldn't be completely sure but he had a strong suspicion that Aunt Sue flaunted herself slightly when his mother was not around. And "around" could mean both when his mother was when she was in bed or in another room, as well as when she was out at work. She was a nurse and her shifts varied considerably.
He was almost convinced that his mother's friend was deliberately teasing him. There had been one occasion when a pair of stockings had appeared on the clothes maiden. They were sheer, and a matching bra and suspender belt were hanging next to them. He had touched and stroked them and in the bathroom had brought himself off to the thought of her in them.
They appeared after his mother had gone to work and disappeared just half an hour before she returned. Quite often when his mum was at work or in bed he would spot an extra button on Aunt Sue's blouse open that had been fastened before his mother left the house, or before she went to bed.
One day when she was unloading the washing machine she seemed to bend quite low, then, when his mother came into the kitchen, she squatted upright on her haunches instead. He was annoyed. He had seen inside Sue's top almost to her nipples before his mother's arrival caused her to shift position.
And although "Aunt" Sue usually did not change into her nightclothes until she went upstairs to bed, there were times when she changed into her silk dressing robe mid evening and sat around in it until bedtime.
This had especially caught his attention.
In the two weeks that Aunt Sue had been staying with them she had never done this when his mother had been at home, yet she had done it three times when she hadn't been. Tonight was the fourth. He asked himself whether this could really be just coincidence. It seemed unlikely.
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These were the reasons he could not decide whether it was good or bad that he was in the house alone with her tonight. His mother was at work on a night shift and would not return until early the next morning.
It didn't help that Aunt Sue had opted to watch a movie on DVD that contained a few erotic scenes, though granted they were steamy rather than pornographic. Nor that they had drunk a couple of glasses of wine each, either.
Granted, on two glasses of wine neither of them was exactly inebriated. But the cosiness of being in the room alone together, along with the wine, along with her wearing her dressing robe, and the three non-explicit but nevertheless raunchy sex scenes made the situation feel very erotic. To him, anyway.
There is of course an unwritten, almost innate protocol when watching something risqué with other people. A bunch of mates watch it and make lewd comments about it, either out of embarrassment or crudity. Partners often do the same, at least if they have the same tolerance of it.
Otherwise, at least in Britain, there is The Protocol. If watching a steamy scene with parents -- or, for that matter, with the best friend of your mother -- two things need to be done.
Firstly, each person wonders whether somebody else will decide to switch off the television or DVD.
If nobody does, then everyone must continue watching -- to say or do any other would be to draw attention to IT, to the three-letter word that ends in a letter x. But this watching must be done in the right manner. It must be done casually, to give the impression of not really watching, of pretending to look away, having to endure the scene until the plot proper resumes. Perhaps one person or the other makes a totally unrelated and mundane statement to lend to this atmosphere. But despite the pretence the scene brings arousal, perhaps especially because of the embarrassment and the need to pretend otherwise..
Tonight, though, The Protocol had been broken. When each of the steamy scenes came on, Aunt Sue gave a low chuckle. The first time she looked at him knowingly and made a little wincing expression. The second time she chuckled again and said breezily, "Oh, here we go again!" Her face was attractive, her dark eyelashes and eyeliner adding to her appeal and to her saucy facial expression.
But although it was her own DVD that she had watched previously, and although the remote was on the coffee table next to her she made no attempt to skip it or fast-forward it.
And instead of avoiding eye contact, as per the Unwritten Protocol, she caught his eye. Repeatedly. And pulled an expression as if feigning shock. Several times. And he did the same. Perhaps it was partly the effect of the wine or perhaps it was his own wishful thinking, but he felt a sexual tension building between them both.
Repeatedly as they watched the movie he glanced across at her. Her purple, floral print robe hugged her B-cup breasts. Her slender legs were bent at the knee and resting tucked up on the sofa to one side of her. A couple of times she noticed his glance but simply smiled. The next few times he looked, she seemed to be baring a little more flesh; the first time, her neckline was gaping a bit further open than before, the second time the hem of her robe was a bit higher and he could see her lower thighs. They were pale, slender and inviting.
Under the silk of her robe her breasts rose and fell deliciously, and the top of her cleft was visible at the wrapped-over neckline. The fabric lay in sensual folds and creases over her petite frame, and it caught the light deliciously. Her robe had parted at the knees and although he could not see much upper thigh, he could see enough to be very aroused, and the slight V-shape of its opening seemed to draw his eye to the very top. He willed it -- unsuccessfully, of course - to part still further. Her legs were slender. And bare. Her slender fingers caressed the wineglass in her hand. He was sure it was due to his oversexed state of mind, but the movement seemed very sensual.
On and off throughout the movie a terrible idea came to his head that he could not entirely dismiss. It had come to him before. But now it started to grow. With a vengeance. And to seem less crazy than it had done previously.
It shocked him at first. After all, she was his mother's best friend and he had known her as long as he could remember. The fact that he called her aunt made it seem even more taboo. But -- and though he wished he could blame the wine he knew really that his feelings had little to do with alcohol. The reality was that his feelings had been building up for some time. The alcohol was really nothing to do with it.
He had been acutely aware of her nearness. Over the last fortnight he had often thought of her dressing and undressing, just the other side of his bedroom wall -- just a yard or two from him. The same thoughts came to him when he heard her showering in the bathroom -- there was his mother's friend, almost his aunt, stark naked in the shower, rubbing the gel all over her firm breasts, over her belly, her bum cheeks. He thought of the water running down her skin, tangling in her pubes, then streaking on down her thighs and legs.
And, nagging away at the back of his mind was the certainty that, whatever her intentions, she had been feeding his attraction to her -- and his desire for her.
Again and again he glanced at the sensual rise and fall of her breasts under the floral-print silk. Her orbs were not that big, but they still looked fairly firm, despite the obvious absence of a bra under her robe. He could just see the outlines of her nipples through the soft-looking silk.
