My nephew Danny started coming over to my house once a week to mow the lawn and to fuck me. Lately, the weeds have been growing in thick and I wake-up to his enormous cock jabbing between my thighs. Things have gotten a little bit out of hand in the last few months, when I have become his alarm clock, slowly arousing him from his slumbers by performing oral sex on his mammoth tool. His total control and domination over my mind and body has reduced me to a willing participant in my own sexual subjugation.
It began about a year or so, ago. My husband whom I refuse to name, and may he roast in hell, divorced me and lit-out. I say good riddance, and my lawyer secured a nice settlement and I got the house. He was an asshole and nobody liked him. At about the same time, my sister Ruth was being divorced from her husband, too. Jimmy was an okay guy and we all liked him, but of course we sided with Ruth. Truth is, she could be a bit bitchy and difficult to get along with. It was particularly hard on their son Danny. He was just struggling to finish high school and wasn't prepared for college. What structure he had, and an upstanding male role model, had now vanished. Leaving him bitter and building a hidden impulse to dominate women.
Our other sister Claire, had just recently moved back to the neighborhood because her hubby travelled so much, that she had grown bored and lonely. He was a good provider but had apparently been spreading his affections around. She was starved for appreciation and emotional support.
My name is Victoria, everyone calls me Vicci. I am the eldest at 41, then clingy Claire and bitchy Ruth. We all have dark eyes and dark hair, Ruth's is cut short. She also got the big boobs. Claire and I are modest C-cups, Ruth is a firm Double-D. Claire has long, muscular legs and a slim waist. I'm a little more rounded but most men ogle my curves.
Danny is just past twenty now. He also has long black hair that is often swept back in a short ponytail. He has smoldering, liquid brown eyes and a dark complexion that turns to the color of chocolate milk when he works bare-chested in the yard. His broad shoulders and thick, sinewy arms are a reminder of the baseball player he once was. He has a finely chiseled jaw and a shadow of black stubble on his chin that would have looked great on a trading card. And the wiry patch of coarse, dark curls that peek above his gym trunks, often had me fantasizing about the mystery hidden beneath. His solid thighs and size-twelve shoes led me to some erotic daydreams when he wasn't aware that I was studying him.
After his parents divorce, which he took hard, things were strained between he and Ruth. He lashed-out at her and stormed around the home. Since I had just inherited this big house, it was generally agreed that he would spend a little more time with his Aunt Vicci.
At first, he mostly did yard work but I found that he was good with his hands, (a skill that we would soon put to the test.) He was not shy about expressing his opinions and he actually looked for chores to do. And as I couldn't do any sort of manual repair, I soon came to rely on his presence and his help. He told me that any time spent with me, rather than at home, was a more pleasurable experience. He seemed shy and brooding at first, but I took that as adolescent angst. I wanted to draw him out. And to make things around here comfortable for him. And I spoke with him as an adult, I think he warmed to being on equal footing. Our talks often touched on intimate subjects, and sometimes after a few adult beverages, we would discuss our sexual frustrations. One night, he confessed to me that spying me in my skimpy shorts or bikini is what kept him lingering around.
I hovered over him initially. When he mowed the grass, I always hurried-out with cold drinks and would sun myself in the yard so that he wouldn't feel alone. Doing odd jobs inside, I would sit with him and talk about anything. I didn't want him to feel like a hired hand. And he is my only nephew. It had not occurred to me then, that I was dressing pretty casually or that our talks had become so sexually charged. It was summer I reasoned, that's why I showed so much skin and it was the heat that made me perspire so much. As for the erotic energy in the room, I thought that was only in my head.
I would lounge in the sun talking about the family divorce situations or ask why he didn't have a girlfriend. He countered, that with my "sexy figure" I should still be out there husband-shopping. We asked what qualities each other preferred in the opposite sex and occasionally even dropped hints of what we found to be stimulating or sensual. I enjoyed the way his warm eyes scanned my body when we talked. It made feel alive and sensuous. And I found myself more and more, wondering what type of lover he would be.
On scorching summer days, I leered from under smoked glasses, as his tanned torso glistened in the sun. He wore only shorts and boots, a blue bandana wrapped around his dark, sweaty brow. At every movement the lean muscles shone through like a wild cat's. My skin needed a little more care, I did not have his European roots. I sometimes asked him to apply oils or creams to my shoulders and back.
