An aunt teaches her nephew the art of sex with an older woman.
A few words from Jayne.
This is a story told from the perspectives of two people: me a forty-something- year-old woman and my nephew, a twenty-three-year-old, delicious young man who fantasises about his mother, my sister.
Let me know what you think please.
Jayne
It was almost a year since we had seen each other. Twelve worrying months, fifty-two weeks of anxiety when all the time I was on edge. On my gloomier days I imagined the police knocking on my door and arresting me and in my optimistic periods I felt I would never see you again. In between I imagined there was a phone call from my sister screaming about what I had done to her baby or you turning up unannounced and blackmailing me into more sex or, worse trying it on and succeeding with my twenty-two-year-old daughter. There were so many fucking nightmare scenarios and no good news ones at all.
That's what I had been left with after that weekend when you were staying with me when Sara, my daughter came home unexpectedly and I am sure fancied you like hell.
'How awful' I thought, a young woman fancying her cousin. 'Yeah right' I mentally retorted, adding. 'That's rich coming from a forty-something-year-old aunt who's just fucked that cousin, her own nephew several times.
Nothing had been planned about our fling, in fact there was hardly any build up to or, background about it. Of course, I had known you since you were born and, in fact I was the first person other than Samantha, my sister, and your father, to hold you. I had watched you grow up and we had always got on well, but very much as an adult aunt and growing up nephew. We had become closer as you edged your way through your teens and over the past couple of years or so we had developed a sort of flirty way of relating to each other. I hadn't thought much about it and certainly, other than admiring your looks and physique, there was nothing sexual or thoughts of intimacy on my part. I had, a couple of times, though, wondered whether there was more on your part than what society decreed there should be. Some double entendres, a few touches, lingering glances and so on hinted at it, but there had been nothing significant until you came to stay with me for a couple of days as you attended interviews in London.
Over the past year, though, not wishing to see you in fear of 'our fling,' short though it was, starting up again, I had turned down a few family functions, but my Aunt's, your Great Aunt's golden wedding party was an impossibility to avoid. As it happens and quite fortuitously Sara was away with the school on a history trip that counted towards her GCSEs so she was exempt.
Almost as soon as I walked into the large rambling house in Kentish-Town I saw you. I gulped and my heart started to pound. You looked good. You had filled out, you were a few inches taller and your hair was a little longer, less punky.
"Hello Auntie," you said smiling or, were you leering, as I walked up to where you were standing with your mum Samantha, my sister?
"Jack," she said, jokingly harshly, "Don't make both of us feel old call her Jayne."
"Thanks Sam," I replied kissing her on her cheek as she leaned forward her loose dress gaping showing her ample breasts and deep cleavage.
'Fuck' I thought, my pulses racing and my blush deepening when I glanced at you and saw that you were also looking at Samantha' ample bosom. She was my sort of build, but after her kids she had done little to hold onto her figure and she must have blown up to a fourteen or sixteen dress size with a figure somewhere around 40DD 32 38, 'Nearly a real BBW' I thought thanking someone that I managed, just about, to hang onto my more respectable 36D 29 37-inch figure; voluptuousness and big boobs ran in the family!
You smiled and winked as you nodded at her chest and I knew immediately that we were both thinking the same thing; the admission you had made when you came on my tits that you had been fantasizing about cumming on hers.
'Jesus had I really got that deep with a fucking twenty-one-year-old kid old?' I wondered? Much of that fateful weekend, I realised, had now been deleted from my mental hard drive. Yes, was the answer for I had simply taught you too much and too well, although I suspected you knew a lot more than you had let on during that shprt, awkward, but hugely exciting period.
"Sorry Auntie," you said perversely as you surprisingly confidently put your hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek. "Hello Jayne, it's been such a long time, hasn't it? When was it we last met?"
"Fortunately, Samantha had seen someone more interesting and important to talk to and had wandered off.
"Jack, you know exactly when we last saw each other so please don't mess around."
You squeezed my hand. "Don't worry Auntie I wasn't messing around then, I haven't since and I'm not now, I am deadly serious."
"What do you mean?"
You leaned close, put your mouth to my ear and whispered. "I want to fuck you again and soon."
"Don't be silly," I said sternly. "I told you that was it, nothing else will happen, it's over."
You wandered away, looking over your shoulder and smiling.
For divorcees without a partner, family parties are often a nightmare and this was no exception. Actually, it was worse than usual as I was on edge all the time particularly when I saw you sneaking drinks as I knew that might loosen your tongue or reduce your inhibitions.
A couple of hours into the party, I was in a group outside; it was quite a warm evening. I was wearing a white button up the front, silk blouse and dark brown, soft leather trousers. As happens at parties whilst one moment there had been six or seven in the group, suddenly it was just you and me. You didn't beat around the bush.
"I have thought about that weekend so much Jayne," you said out of the blue.
"No Jack, don't go there."
"Why not Jayne, I can't stop thinking about it."
"You must. It's over it was a one off its finished."