Just a quickie I put together. Scott's Aunt Cathy sees him spying. She moves in to punish her nephew but gets too hot for the job.
Hope it titillates a few readers.
Thanks for reading.
GA -- Cambridgeshire, UK -- 28th of October 2018
*****
She just walked in and told me straight.
Shocked, all I could do was stare, the weight of my hanging jaw a vague impression.
"Dirty beast," she said, glaring.
Her fists were on her hips. Fire flashed from her eyes.
I thought she was magnificent.
I knew what she was talking about, but it played dumb.
This was trouble. I'd over-stepped the mark by several long strides.
I blurted out, "What? What are you talking about?"
My face gave me away. I couldn't control the heat rising in my cheeks and I knew I was burning red.
"Don't play that game, nasty little shit. Don't you
dare
make out like you don't know."
She fumed as I looked at her, a leaden sinker of dread plummeting into the pit of my stomach.
Crossing her arms beneath the swell of her breasts, my Aunt Cathy sneered and said, "So, come on, show me."
I boggled, confused.
My attention was set on the swell of her tits where her folded arms spilled the flesh over the cups of her bra.
Aunt Cathy blew out air, cheeks ballooning in exasperation.
"You played with it when you were spying, Scott," she said, sharp and angry. My aunt unfolded her arms and jabbed a forefinger at me. "It was obvious. Don't try to kid on you weren't. I'm old and wise enough to know when a bloke's tugging his dick."
The vehemence in her verbal assault was stunning.
Then my aunt shocked me by adding, "So do it now. I'm right in front of you. You want to tug your pathetic little winkie over me? Here's your chance. This is it. I'm right here, right now." My aunt stepped back and showed of her curves, motioning along her flanks with the tips of her fingers.
Despite the alluring sight of her full figure panic surged. "No, Aunt Cathy," I gasped. "It isn't ... I wasn't--"
She cut me off with a laugh, clapping her hands together in a gesture of high-old amusement.
"Bollocks," she said, shaking her head. "You were there. At the bloody door. Watching..."
My aunt leaned in low, breasts swaying as she moved. With her face inches from mine, she held my stare while pointing behind her towards the bedroom door.
To the scene of the crime along the hall.
It had been too much to resist: my lovely aunt, full and ripe and mature just out of the bath, the bathroom door ajar. I couldn't help myself. Drawn by the promise of her voluptuous curves, I lurked and watched and stroked my cock, the caresses turning into fell-fledged wanking while I thought about what I would do if I had a chance at her body.
Legs, waist, and buttocks exposed, my aunt towelled dry before stepping into her knickers. She wore her ash-blonde hair loosely pinned up, skin glowing from the heat of the bath as she reached for her bra, fixing the thing to cover her boobs before she turned. I had no real idea of what she was like between her legs but pictured a landing-strip style, my hand really working my dick as the fantasy gripped.
But, then, lost in the sub-space of sexual arousal, as I yanked my dick, head full of my aunt, I fucked my fist for a moment too long. Aunt Cathy turned, her eyes drawn to the movement.
I was heading towards my room before she could speak, but I knew it was hopeless.
"You were spying. You're a dirty little sneak -- I fucking
saw
you, Scott."
My aunt sighed and, after a couple more seconds of glaring at me, rose upright.
Her arms folded under her impressive frontage again, the movement drawing my eyes.
"Tits," Aunt Cathy spat. "Is that it? You perved at your aunty because of the tits?"
I gulped, cornered and anxious. "Yuh-you won't tell, will you?"
My aunt sneered, eyes going wide. "Oh," she said, mockery heavy in her tone, "worried I might tell, are you?"
"I'm sorry," I blurted.
"No ... Oh no, Scott. You don't get away with it by saying you're sorry." Aunt Cathy raised a forefinger and waved it at me. "No, what you're going to do is show me exactly what you were doing. It was okay to do it without me knowing? It's okay to do it with me standing here."
Mortification turned me cold and then hot. My cheeks burned hotter while paradoxically cold sweat trickled along my spine.
Appalled at the suggestion, I babbled, "What? God, no, Aunt Cathy!"
My aunt was emphatic, wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Oh, you're going to do it, Scott. Nasty pig. You think it's all right to tug your tiny cock and look at me? Jesus, I'm your mum's sister! I'm your fucking
aunty
. I've known you since you were an hour old. You should have more fucking respect!"
She was superb. Full of fire, angry and wild, the upper slopes of her breasts, her chest, and her throat suffused pink in her ire. I'd never seen her furious before, the full force of her anger made plain by her use of bad language.
My Aunt Cathy wasn't one to swear, so to hear her using those words impacted on me.
Aunt Cathy jabbed a red-painted talon towards my face. "So," she spat, "you're going to learn a lesson, Scott. I'm telling you to do it with me watching."
My upbringing conditioned me to obey authority figures.
My Aunt Cathy counted.
That her instructions were outrageous didn't matter at the time. I could have refused, but my mind didn't work that way. I reasoned, in my panicky state, that I could be in trouble if she decided to tell. The humiliation would be huge. My mother would know. It would spread to the wider family, too. Not only that, but the way my aunt stood and glowered, proud and stern, had an effect. I didn't think there would be any physical violence on her part, but her demeanour was very intimidating.
She was fierce and wasn't taking any shit.
"But I can't," I gasped as my dick shrank.
"You fucking-well will," My aunt shot back.
I was on my bed while she stood at the side, fists on her hips, frontage square-on to face me.
I glanced at the door, wondering if I could get past her.
Like she could read my mind, my aunt smirked and said, "You could run away, Scott; but I'll tell my sister what a filthy toe-rag you are. You want me to do that?"