The longer my twenty-four-year-old nephew stayed with me and we got to know each other better, so his's behaviour became more extreme. That was with both his dominating and controlling sexual manner and his tender loving and romantic ways. He would go from treating me like absolute dirt to according me all the tenderness and respect of an aunt. From abusing and demeaning me in ways that I could never have imagined to treating and respecting me like the middle-aged lady I am. When I came home from work which was at any times between five and midnight I never knew what to expect and on the few occasions when we went out to a pub or restaurant I was on tenterhooks. With both situations I had no idea whether I would be treated like absolute dirt, an aunt or an older lady and whether he would demean and humiliate me or put me on a pedestal. As these extremes of behaviour became more common and apparent, at first I was scared and apprehensive but I got used to them fairly quickly and in a way I started looking forward to finding out how he was going to behave and adjusting myself to it.
I have to say, though, that his performance in bed that had always been staggeringly energetic also improved. He took more time arousing me with longer and more satisfying foreplay. He altered the way he thrust in and out of me varying his speed and depth as I had suggested. He stopped using his pounding way every time he fucked me and alternated that with slower and more languid lovemaking. He kissed me more and refrained from always marking my breasts and inner thighs with angry-looking love bites. And after he'd made me cum, that I'm pretty sure he did every time we fucked, he held me and waited as my shuddering and bodily trembles finished. In short, I prided myself on having taught him how to make love to me and not just fuck me.
"So, when's Sara coming home, soon isn't it?" he'd innocently, I'd thought at the time, asked me one evening as we sat in the family room watching TV. We were both naked which was something we'd taken to doing occasionally and as it was rather chilly were cuddled up under a blanket. It was all very intimate and enjoyable and nearly always led to us having sex either on the couch or the floor before going to bed for round two and sometimes three. That was just one of the nice sides of our relationship coming out.
"Yes Friday I think, though dates with her are always rather flexible," I told him.
"Bit like that is she, well that's kids nowadays, isn't it?"
"Who are you calling a kid, she's only two years younger than you."
"Yeah I guess she is, has you got a home boyfriend?"
"A what?"
"Home boyfriend it's what we call their local boyfriend back home as opposed to their college one."
"Oh I see, well I'm not sure," I told him as his hand cupped my breast and stroked it nicely just as I had taught him recently.
"Mmmm that's nice," I sighed pushing back against his hand to encourage stronger feelings from it.
"How nice is it?" he asked pinching the nipple.
"Fuckably nice," I told him smiling.
"Then you'd better do something about it hadn't you?" he said pushing the blanket off and exciting me as he leered at my nudity muttering, "Fucking lovely Aunty and you'll be even lovelier fucking."
"Will I Neil?" I asked as I enjoyed his compliments and stares.
"Well especially when you get across me and fuck me."
After some prolonged kissing, boob fondling, nipple pinching, gentle fingering and cock stroking we briefly discussed which position we were going to do it in and agreed I would straddle him with him on his back on the long couch. We both quite liked that position as he was able to do whatever he wanted to my boobs as, at the same time, we could do what I particularly liked which is to kiss.
Since starting this near regime of having frequent sex together and me, therefore, being called on to perform with hardly any preparation the slight dryness associated with women of my age was becoming more apparent. As we'd taken to having sex of one degree or another most nights, I had bought and applied some vaginal lubricant when I got home from work so I was nicely wet as I reached behind me, grasped his cock, pulled it upright and easing it into me I effectively sat on it. And boy was that lovely.
"Now fuck me you old tart," he grinned pushing upwards so it went further into me.
I took things slowly at first. Holding his gaze, I cupped both of my tits and pinched the nipples until they were at their hardest. I pulled them out from my tits, lifted each boob up, licked and kissed them in turn and sucked on each nipple. His appreciative gaze and deep sighs were my immediate reward which were as satisfying at the time as the sensations I was getting from his cock as we started this almost motionless fuck.
"Mmmmm, nice show Aunty, now fuck me," he croaked pulling me so that I leaned forward. Bent over like that I started lifting myself up and down on his beautifully hard prick, it was lovely. It got even better, though, when he pulled me further forward so that my boobs were brushing across his chest as I lifted up and then squashing against it as I ground myself right down onto him. His arms slid around me and reaching down he gripped each cheek quite firmly. Then, as I pushed down as far as I could suddenly my ass seemed to explode as his hand crashed onto it.
"Fuck Neil, what are you doing," I cried out just as his other hand smacked my other cheek.
"Just giving you a little taste of what's to come soon."
"What do you mean?"
"Well I'm going to spank that lovely pert ass of yours one of these days," he went on smacking each cheek a few more times. At the same time he matched my rhythm so that our bodies were moving in sync. Then, for some reason that completely escaped me, as he said that and stroked my stinging ass my orgasm erupted and I came just about as hard and vigorously as I had since I'd been having sex with him.
Later in my bathroom as I looked over my shoulder in the mirror I could hardly believe how red and marked my bum was and, to my surprise, how much that excited me. As I was getting up at some silly o'clock time the next day to get a flight to Paris we didn't sleep together. That was just as well as I spent most of the night and the following two in Paris sleeping on my front. It was in the middle of the first of those uncomfortable nights which was after an equally, or more, uncomfortable flight that something clicked with me. Thinking back over the length of our affair I worked out that pretty much each time I went away for any time, I carried his marks. Up until this trip they had been love bites, firstly on my breasts then later on my inner thighs with one or two on the cheeks of my bum and now they were smack marks on the cheeks of my bottom. Signs, I assumed, that he knew I wouldn't want others to see so they were like his trophy marks exclaiming me as his property!
In my cab from the airport to home later that week when the stinging and tenderness had subsided but the marks were still there I mulled over whether to have it out with him when I got home. As we drove into Totteridge I reached a decision and I thought that I might talk to him about the suck and spank marks but not have a row about them. I was beginning to realise, I rather liked the feeling of being owned and having the marks on my body to show that!
"So is it still on for next week?" he asked me as we were eating a lovely curry that he had made from scratch.
"Is what on?"
"Sara's return?"
I told him that it was and that we'd have to watch how we behaved around each other to which replied.
"What no shoving my hand up your skirt and having a feel?"
Smiling, I replied, "No, none of that or anything and be careful with what you say and in front of her too, she's pretty cute at picking things up," I told him as he got up and started collecting the dishes that he took to the kitchen and returned with an apple pie that he amazed me by saying that he'd baked. Standing behind me he put his hands on my shoulders and squeezing gently whispering almost into my ears.
"So none of this?" as he slid both hands downwards at the same time right onto my boobs that he cupped and squeezed.
"No Neil, exactly none of that," I smiled up at him as he leaned forward and down so his face was just above mine as I added, "But that's when Sara's here isn't it?"
"And she isn't now is she?" he asked fiddling his hands down my top and into my bra. The sudden feel of his hands on my breasts and nipples made me gasp.
"No love she isn't now is she?"
"But when she is," he muttered kissing my head and fondling my breasts as he went on, "Do you reckon there'll be a chance of a threesome?"
"What?"
"A threesome with you and me?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I retorted genuinely shocked that he could even think about having sex with a mother and daughter let alone it being with Sara and me.
"Why's it ridiculous?" he asked which caused me to lose my temper and to tell him to fuck off out of the house before I stormed upstairs to my room.
It was after I had got out of my business gear, showered and into the more casual, tight blue jeans and a scooped front, button up, white cardigan with just a bra under it that there was light tap at the door.
"What do you want?"
"To talk please Aunty," Neil said in one of his softer tones adding, "May I come in?"
"Yes but no talk about that, okay?"
"Yes of course boss, whatever you say," he said as the door opened and he came in carrying a bottle of Champagne and two glasses and smiling said, "Peace offering sorry."
"No need for that."
"Maybe not but I don't want to be kicked out, so are we cool?"
"I guess so."
"Touchy subject is it Jayne?"
"What do you think? Of course it fucking well is."
"What threesomes or us and S?"
"Both, probably."
