The day was working out splendidly. With all "preparations" complete, Margaret Cory now merely had to recline back against her wooden deck chair and "just enjoy the view." It was a view she'd taken great pains to achieve and through no small amount of scheming influence on her part. The view as it turns out, was most enjoyable indeed. He really was a fine specimen - good blood on her sister's side of the family line.
Behind her dark sunglasses, her eyes followed her nephew Billy's every move over the next several minutes; scrutinizing each straining sinewy muscle, each taught ripple of flesh. Her mind began to work out the mental geometry as she speculated what it might feel like to have him atop her with his weight pinning her down, making her helpless beneath his crush. She'd been right in telling him to remove his shirt so as not to suffer heat stroke and to get some golden rays of sunshine on those shoulders of his... not that his tanned skin needed it, his color being most appealing to her from several points of aesthetic consideration.
She fanned herself.
It certainly was getting warm here by the pool,
she realized as she continued scrutinizing her nephew in the same hungry manner as a tabby cat would as it preparing to pounce on an unsuspecting field mouse. She needed to cool off.
She'd told herself but a few minutes before,
she'd all week to make her move,
but then she told herself again,
if she made that move EARLY and was successful (chuckle)
, then she'd have all the week to enjoy him! Yes she needed to cool off, most assuredly.
She was up from her chair. She glanced at her watch; he'd been working a for nearly an hour's time now. He needed a break anyhow, it was the perfect pretext. Her feet kicked off her high-heeled sandals and her sunglasses found their way to the chair as she stepped to the edge of the pool with purpose and determination, (if not a slight tremble inside her).
She knew that tremble. It was a bit of pre-tryst butterflies that accompanied a slight tingling in her scalp and lovely bit of inexplicable breathlessness. At some level inside she needed that sensation; as it was that bit of giddiness that made conquests so thrilling and terrifying at the same time. One would think after all those lovers and all those torrid hook-ups she'd have outgrown it; yet here it was... the "pre-shag shivers" as she liked to call them.
When she considered her apprehension for a moment; aside from the obvious titillation she felt, there was also a bit of trepidation at the ethics of everything. That too was a bit perplexing to her sense of hedonism. She'd experienced incestuous sexual relations before; first there had been her "game" that she'd played for so many years with her sister, and then of course she'd crossed the threshold of taboo with...
others.
She'd had relations with a young man she'd met on holiday in the Mediterranean and then she'd shared a bed with him and a woman who'd later turned out to be his older sister. There were also a pair of young women she'd met on a business trip to Hong Kong; whom it was later revealed were both twin sisters. That weekend was remarkable in the number of wonderful orgasms she'd been privy to, from both of those lovely ladies. Then of course there was a ski vacation in Zurich in which she and an older woman she'd met on the slopes had conspired to join forces and seduce the woman's handsome stepson in their hotel's indoor pool after hours. That ended marvelously and she still received holiday cards from the both of them, so why was this different?
The answer was simple. Billy was her blood and her sister's son, (and it wasn't as if her sister could have made her pregnant in any of those late night scissor sessions or lickfests they'd subjected one another too when they were growing up). Her sister had also not approved what she'd had in mind, (no matter what their phone conversations had been before). This was then by its very unnatural nature; something completely different from all her other past dalliances. It was truly forbidden... it was shameful, it was wrong, and it was making her clit tingle and her puss trickle just by entertaining the thought.
Right,
she was in!
"Billy darling," she called to him from where she stood at the pool's edge, "you've been working for a ruddy hour... take a break already dear!"
"Almost done here Auntie Maggie," he called back to her.
He was true to his word. Within a few more snips of the hedge shears he'd finished his work. The rest of the yard work could wait... Auntie Maggie had
other
work for him this morning, anyhow.
Billy now noticed something odd. As he set down his shears and wiped the sweat from his brow he could clearly his auntie standing at the pool's edge. How long had she been there simply watching him? Had he done a decent enough job on the hedge? He turned around and checked his work, flipping his bangs from his eyes.
Nope... it was first rate he reasoned, but still; she just stood there at the other end of the pool looking at him. It was all a bit unsettling.
Hmmmm, he noticed she was looking rather fetching really though;
if one can say that about their aunt.
That was creepy and wrong to think, right?
It certainly was, but he could see she didn't look like many other women her age. She had the loveliest hips of the MILFiest MILF he'd ever pulled-off to on the internet, (and her tits underneath that bikini top were nothing to ignore either)! They were lovely and round and full with no sag... she'd taken care of herself. He also loved her short, nearly shoulder-length fiery red head of hair that hinted at fun upscale sophistication with a dash of mischief thrown in. No...
if he was a full-blown pervert he'd be keen to fuck his aunt
, he mused to himself... and of course that
other stuff
didn't count really.
*****
The 'other stuff' he happened to recall in the back of his noggin were lurid fantasies he'd had; dreams mostly, but he'd also pulled his cock late at night to help himself sleep, and it was in these same self-abuse sessions he'd had 'accidents.' It seems in between those little sleepy tugs where he'd imagined a porno starlet or two sucking him or riding his cock; he'd somehow managed to get Auntie Maggie thrown in the erotic video playing in his fevered mind. He didn't understand how she managed to get into his head (and he would kick her out immediately from his fantasy spank session because it was 'weird' for him), but she was definitely there in his consciousness. Of course she was lodged deep in his subconscious, as well.
He'd had several dreams where she'd approach him without so much as a stitch of clothing on and then with a SNAP of her fingers, he'd be naked as well! They'd kiss and shortly; a fuck would ensue, (or a blowjob, or handjob or some inappropriate and shameful contact). His mother would enter the room and rage at him or his girlfriend, Anna, and there would be shouts of disapproval and his feeble attempts to explain himself. There'd been at least one dream where his girlfriend and his auntie had been in the bath in a torrid lovemaking session. There'd been another night where he'd dreamt his mum and his auntie had been naked in his bed as he returned home and they'd motioned for him to join them.
Regardless of the dream, he found it all confusing, disturbing and regretfully exciting. He'd awake to find the front of his underwear a ghastly sticky mess with the blasted remnants of a recent ejaculation staining the front of things. It made him wonder if he were a foul pervert, fit only for a lunatic asylum of some sort. He'd trot down to the loo and wash off his shame and tell himself it was all just a dream that couldn't be helped.
*****
Now he was standing half-turned across the pool from his aunt, and noticing that
very same
look in her blue-green eyes she'd given him in those terribly unsettling dreams. His cock twitched. She broke the spell with a smile still on her lips...
"Billy jump in the pool. You need to cool off."
"Oh," he said turning her way, "no worries Auntie Maggie. I'll get my swimming things from the house next door and..."
"Oh POO Billy," she said, "don't worry, just shuck off those jeans and stop being silly. I've seen you in your underwear, it will dry. I'm going in anyhow, why not you?"
There was a pause... an awkward pause really. It was one of those dead space moments where everything stops and stands still; more fitting perhaps for an American Western movie with an old-time shoot-out a street, but it was no less appropriate here, (what with each participant watching the other to see what their next move happened to be). She saw his eyes. He saw hers. From a high third-floor window above the pool, Gwennie, the ever-watchful maid ...observed them both keenly as she pretended to clean the pane of glass before her.
Gwen knew precisely how this would all go. She'd seen her employer Maggie pull that old,
'Why don't you just jump into the water,'
trick before.
Maggie had tried that little number with that young immigrant pool boy, Carlos when he'd come by to check her PH and scour her plaster at her behest. That had ended well enough for her, and it had turned out she'd had her
pipes
scrubbed clean for her money, as well by him! Yes WELL INDEED, in fact... and then there was Evan; the fellow from town who'd cut the hedge the last time ...and then Cyrus the pool maintenance technician who'd fixed the filter port,
(and both of Maggie's other ports as well)!
No, there was nothing new at all about this little trick, but it was tried and true. Gwen scrubbed the window absentmindedly, (with the beginnings of a smirk forming at the corners of her mouth while her eyes followed the scene below).
There was still that awkward silence. Maggie and Billy really DID resemble two gunfighters squaring off in the middle of the street, now. Both had their hips cocked jauntily to one side, (although Maggie's stance was a bit more pronounced with her MILFie-arse jutting against her orange thong).
You could hear a honeybee fart; it was so quiet. Billy "went for his gun," first.
With one thumb he flipped open his belt, then with both hands he unsnapped and unzipped his jeans. Denim hit the pool deck and he stepped from his sandals, now standing before his auntie in his "tightey-whitey." She'd have to do something about that. She could see his bulging prominence beneath that all that cotton and it looked promising, but she'd need to get him better briefs.
