Go West Young Man!

It was a stormy Friday afternoon in SoCal and my nephew and I were driving the freeway out to LAX to meet his mother's plane coming in from the East Coast. LA's usual six full lanes of bogged-down traffic would be even worse when combined with rain, wind and lightning. California drivers are the worst. To them, "bad road conditions" means clouds.

So the usual two hour drive could involve upwards of two more. Jeff and I decided to take a half-day from work and make it a fairly leisurely drive, maybe have a late lunch when we get there, and greet my sister Tracy as she stepped off of the plane. Jeff and I work for the same Hollywood Film company where I am a nominal boss. I have already arranged for Tracy to work there, and to live with us at my home until the two of them are financially secure enough to be on their own.

My name is Julie, and my nephew Jeff and I have become a bit closer than most families would find to be "normal" and "traditional." Infact we have been involved in a wildly obscene, incestuous, S&M affair for almost three months. And until last night we have slept in the same bed, showered together, lived practically naked and had sexual relations 8-10 times per day, every day, even sometimes at work, for the past twelve weeks.

And just this morning after I gurgled down his last hot load of cum; and he kissed, sucked and left a series of small, purplish bite marks on my right breast that now looks like I was tapped repeatedly with a ballpeen hammer, we agreed that this would be the final go 'round of our impetuous, taboo tryst. Reaching what all normal people would find to be a shameful situation's only logical and ethical conclusion, did not come easily or happily.

For almost four months, Jeff had either consciously or subliminally conditioned me to be his perfect sexual slave. He fucked me every night and morning, and I swallowed a gallon of his warm, sticky cream in between. That fact alone took some conditioning, since I thought the very "act" of a blowjob was gross and degrading. Now I compare everything that I eat or drink to the taste and texture of his fresh, hot semen.

We have easily adapted to the erotic roles of master and slave, and there are no stigmas or blame. Once I began to get sex again on a regular basis after so long suppressing my drive, I discovered just how much pleasure I can give and receive by accepting my submissive position in a sexual relation, even I never wanted to stop.

And as for Jeff, if I could place myself into the six foot-three inch frame of the sculpted, tanned and bleach-blonde physique of my young nephew, I would now be ready for anti-depressants. He owned his older (but still youthful) aunt's body and mind. He came out west to stay with me because his single-mother had fallen victim to the terrible housing bubble, losing her home and owing a fortune. I got him an entry-level job and a beat-up old muscle car that was more shine than performance. On weekends I would take him to some of Rodeo Drive's toniest addresses. We began to be regulars at the most posh clubs and restaurants. Basically to introduce him to the city, but it felt nice to be arm-in-arm with such a handsome young man. We were also good company for each other. We didn't need the usual small-talk, and could relax and pretend that we belonged here.

Due to our closeness in age and that we were being spotted together, and especially because we didn't want anyone to figure out that we were actually a lonely, single aunt and nephew going out together for dinner and drinks. Eventually just to convince onlookers that we were a real couple, we began to snuggle closer and lightly kiss and awkwardly grope one another.

That downward spiral led inexorably to the taboo debauchery of servant and lord that we have fallen prey to. What started as his offering advise on how to maintain the appearance of a loving twosome, became his ultimate domination over me in that I would drop to my knees at the snap of his fingers. So today finally, we put an end to all of that deviance. Not because we woke-up to the realization that it was incest. But so that when Tracy arrives at my home, she will encounter the normal conditions of two sisters and one grown son reacquainting with each other in a three bedroom house and learning to live together like humans do.

For residents of the Golden State, you would think that driving would be a pleasant diversion from stress. Constant sunshine, warm salt-air, mountains, oceans... but no. Most people drive with the air-conditioning on behind tinted windows, with shades and a cell phone pressed to their ear. I always liked to have the top down, sun on my shoulders and breezy winds whipping my hair. Today unfortunately I had to join the mob. The windows were streaked with rain and it pelted down on the cloth roof. Thunderclouds darkened the sky so the lights were on and still it was 85 degrees, so we needed artificial air. The fierce wind was pushing the car side to side, it was like driving in Oz.

Entering the third hour of our trip, we were still forty minutes from the airport. We had exhausted the good driving tunes, all the gossip from work and where we planned to eat. That's when I caught Jeff's eyes leering at me. I suddenly began to feel like a gazelle trapped in the presence of lions. I could feel his hungry gaze eyeing my long, bare legs from the open-toed sandals showing my hot-pink nails up to the grey calf-length skirt riding higher up my thighs than was appropriate. Topping this was a rose-red silk blouse that because of the cold air blowing from the dashboard straight through the triangle of cotton chilling my mons, was having the effect of enlarging and enhancing the outline of my perky nipples, and drawing Jeff's ogling eyes right to my chest.

This was a situation fraught with complications. I needed more than ever to watch the road. I've had him grope me in the car before, but always on familiar roads or in the evenings when I was more equipped to contain his advances, or could stop the car for quickie sex. Here, there were no prying eyes to see us. The air had to be on, and my nephew was a notorious "breast man." And I was practically at his mercy to avoid a twenty-car pile-up. It didn't take long for his wandering hand to simply reach across the seat and grab hold of my right boob.

He's formed the opinion in the last many weeks that my tits were his playground. He often demanded that I confirm that they belong to him and should be readily available, as does my mouth and pussy. I swatted his hand away once and gave him a stern look, but I could feel the car lurch and the horns blow. I could just feel his smirk. When I heard the seatbelt snap and retract, I knew he was about to pounce. His new attack involved both hands and was on me so fast, it surprised me. He leaned over with his head almost in my lap. His strong right hand gripped my thigh and worked like playing the piano, steadily towards the "Y" at my crotch. My skirt was being pushed and bunched further up my waist. He started to plant hot, wet kisses on my thighs and ultimately to run his wide, flat tongue over the cotton material of my panties. It was as if I was tied to the bed, a position I recognized. I couldn't remove my hands from the wheel or my eyes from the road. So I was reduced to squirming in my seat and twisting my body in a useless bid for escape. But one of the guilty pleasures of bondage was the helpless but sensual thrill of surrender, and my anatomy was showing the tell-tale signs that his seduction was hitting it's mark.

I tried again to deflect his pawing, while steering through the rain and traffic. By now his left hand had deftly managed to manipulate the buttons of my blouse, and peel down one cup of my flimsy bra, exposing one of my 34Ds. I always get a tingle in my belly and a warm flush in my loins when he begins his slow-groping exploration of my quivering anatomy. As much as I know that I should spank him down and fight him off, especially after the conversations we've had in the past few days, and considering that we're minutes from meeting his mom, I (not so) secretly love the attention and the rough feel of his calloused palms on my delicate flesh. That must be the willing, submissive side of me that he has cultivated and now emerges when he begins his ministrations on me. I can't resist his advances and I don't want to, infact I miss it terribly if he ignores me.

But this was a step too far. His strong left hand was slowly kneading and juggling my pliant right breast. The right hand was teasing my clitoris by applying just enough pressure to keep it swollen while his supple lips blew a light breeze over the whole mound. all the while my undies remained in place though dampened considerably when his fingers reached under the elastic, and softly tickled the puffy labia. I moaned softly as he strummed the moist curls and patted the swollen skin. The smooth, slow strokes awakened my lustful dreams and my body perspired and shivered. The tension was palpable and electric as he played. My breathing caught in my throat. But I shrieked with desire when he stopped. He knew he had me.

I struggled to contain myself and he was jubilant with his control over my emotional response. At times like this he would stare into my face and gaze at my teary-eyed wonderment, he knew I wanted it and I could only offer a slack-jawed, downcast look. He would remove his sticky fingers from my yearning vagina and rub them along my tongue, telling me to lick and suck on them, to taste my own fluids. The tremors were building inside me. I was only moments from a convulsive climax and eerily lost in his masterly seduction when through my squinting eyes, I spotted the signs for the terminal. I also became aware that apparently the rain ceased about five miles back and the wipers were making a squeaky, thud on the windshield. Just before I melted into a hot mess and dissolved into a puddle of my own juices, I was able to regain a modicum of composure and pry his clutches from my damp body. I cut the air, lowered the windows and pulled into a space.

The sleek outfit that made me look like a young ingenue going to an audition when we got in the car, now made me appear as a used whore when I checked the mirror. I needed to throw-on one of Jeff's extra-large nylon jackets over me. It covered me to my knees and made me look like a flasher. Well I reasoned, I could explain to Tracy that I got caught in the wind and rain. Why should I start telling her the truth now?

I headed straight to the ladies' room to reapply makeup and fix my hair. Jeff went for coffee and said to meet at "Arrivals." There, as I hurried expectantly, he broke the news that due to the same inclement weather system, her flight was delayed another two hours. I was about to scream and cry when he handed me the coffee and said that he already booked us a room at the local hotel. There he said, we could relax for a bit, watch TV, kick off our shoes and rest until her plane came in. My head was still spinning, it sounded like a great idea. I followed him like a puppy.

Having a room and a little privacy to unwind in did help, and it also alerted me that my bright, breezy ensemble was a wrinkled mess that smelled like sex. I assumed that my sweaty torso was in the same condition. So I told Jeff my sizes, (as if he didn't know) and asked that as soon as he finished his coffee, could he run to the gift shop and buy me sweatpants and a Dodgers jersey, while I hopped into a long, hot shower. I would forget about standing-out in a cute little outfit, I would look just like Jeff and the other three million Angelinos in the terminal, we would pick-up Tracy and eat dinner at home.

Things were looking better when I patted barefoot back into the room, revived and refreshed. My eyes instantly caught Jeff's naked form sprawled on the bed. His ruddy good looks enhanced by a tanned, hairy chest, flat hard stomach, strong thick thighs and broad muscular shoulders and arms. But ofcourse the most prominent feature was the eight inches of alabaster flesh rising solidly from the dark thatch of coarse curls. It bobbed and weaved like a sparring boxer. It stood tall and proud. Big blue veins snaked it's circumference and rose to a wide flared cap that surrounded a smooth domed top.

I averted my eyes and started brushing my dark locks. He assured me that the plane was still on schedule, due in about ninety minutes. And when I asked about my new clothes, he answered that he would leave in a few minutes. I rinsed my soiled undies and hung them on the sink, they would need to go in a garment bag when the new stuff arrived. I would go "commando" and braless later, the heavy clothes would cover me. Then I looked for the skirt and blouse set figuring that I could at least wear them until I got fresh stuff. I inquired if Jeff had seen where I tossed them or if he moved them somewhere. He said with a giggle that he threw them out. I laughed, but as I searched the room I glanced back at him and he was chuckling to himself. I grew alarmed, again I asked, "Where are my clothes? I haven't got a single thing to put on. Even my panties and bra are wet! What did you do with my clothes? They were brand new. And expensive." I looked around the small room nervously and considered fashioning a toga-like costume of the nasty, hotel bedsheet. "C'mon Jeff please?" The cool air in the room was turning my nipples into diamonds. "Where are they?"

He leered at me with his lecherous grin. I could picture "the big, bad wolf." He leaned back against the headboard with his crossed arms behind his head. He looked so obscenely in control with his enormous cock standing firm and tall. "You're not going to need them for the next hour or so," He replied. He calmly stroked the length of his giant erection and patted a place on the sheets beside him. "I like the way you look now." He gestured at my tits, and I unconsciously covered my heaving chest with my arm, forgetting that I was completely naked otherwise. "Come over here," he ordered and my juices started to flow. "You know I like to play with those big tits when you suck me."

I feebly protested that we agreed to halt this taboo relation. Not to mention that we were meeting his mom in an hour and I could not have the taste of cum on my breath. But his mischievous eyes and commanding presence always caused my insides to turn to liquid. I was just about to take a step toward the bed, when something sparked a fleeting sense of resistance. Maybe it was the image of my sister that popped into my head. He saw me hesitate and though he was more amused than angry, in his eyes even this slight protest had to be put down. He unfolded his powerful frame and climbed off the bed. He stood towering over me, both of us naked and me trembling a bit. "If you're going to act like a little slut, I'll just have to treat you like one," he sneered. His hand reached for my shoulder and with only the lightest pressure, I felt my knees buckle and my mouth water. The image of my sister was fading fast, replaced by the actuality of his firm column now aimed directly at my lips. His hand cupped my chin and tilted it back, my mouth parted and his gargantuan pole slid home. I automatically began the process of stroking him with my right hand while plying my labia and clit with the left.

What started in the car on the ride over, was only paused by the shower, now I sucked that huge tool as if it were a T-bone and I was a starving woman. He pumped it in and out me and my fingers were a blur in my snatch. With the climax imminent, he withdrew his mammoth organ and laid back on the bed. "Come over here now, and finish this," he growled. I wasn't sure if he was still smiling. I was drawn inexorably to the sheets, his hypnotic appeal and my yearning desire for pleasure acted on me like a tonic. I scaled the bed and squeezed between his thighs as if in a trance that I was powerless to refuse. My nipples hardened and my pussy moistened with each cautious step of my approach.

I felt his talon-like hand cup my breast and pinch the pert nub. The other hand grabbed a thick shock of my hair, twisting it around his big fist and lowering my face to within inches of his potent torpedo. I was so conditioned to this behavior and lost in my sexuality that my entire body reacted sensually to these passions. And I forgot all about our "separation agreement" and that the purpose for us being here was not sex, but to pick-up his mother! My guilty conscience was just a temporary setback, the little devil on my shoulder was stealthily urging me on. And the big devil gripping my hair was blatantly calling for me to suck his cock. My momentary hesitation was encouraged by the subtle pressure I felt at the nape of my neck.

I was honestly aroused by how easily and expertly he dominated me. I wondered for a second if I was truly the first one to experience his dominance. He repeated his demand, "finish me and don't waste a drop." I kissed all around the big head and licked the thick shaft from tip to balls. As it grew more sloppy, my hand glided easily and faster along the solid, pink missile. My hand was making squishing noises, stroking it rapidly and smoothly. The big head parted my lips, I tried to hold them closed in a vain show of defiance. With the enormous tip wedging open my mouth, the shaft pushed forward inch by inch deeper into my throat. With each firm thrust my nose moved closer to the ticklish, wiry hairs. And his plum-sized balls smacked a steady rhythm on my chin.

"It's coming soon," I heard him grunt. The thick pole lodged in my cheek. I felt the expansion in me and noted the salty favor in the first couple drops, on my tongue. "Are you ready for it? Are you going to show me what a good slut you are?" He strained and held my head tighter in his grasp. His hips thrust at my face. I could only mumble my assent and start the process of swallowing if I wanted to taste the reward, and avoid the sticky, terrible ending of a facial, with the nasty goo dripping from my nose. I moaned, gurgled and gulped. He filled me up and my hand toyed with the wetness forming in my pussy, brushing the sensitive nub emerging from it's protective hood. My labia spread and the tremors began. It's obscene that my orgasms mount and thunder at the very notion of having my nephew's cock in my mouth.

After he deposited his creamy load in my gullet and I was on the verge of a second rib-rattling climax, he spun me around and opened my cunt lips with his fingers. Involuntarily, my hand reached back between my legs and held apart my messy lips, begging him to fuck me as I know he likes. With that and the easy entrance of his firm pole, I understood that even if my sister had been knocking on the door at this very moment, I would still have been pleading to her son to fuck me as hard as he can.

I was on my knees, head pressed against the sheets and butt wiggling in the air. He was behind me and between my legs with his hands tugging and squeezing my wobbling boobs while his enormous cock plunged in and out of my desperate snatch. I knew that I belonged to him and would be forever under his control. "Are you my slut?" He grunted menacingly. I nodded crazily and moaned, wanting only to have more of his magnificent cock in my wanton cunt. "You'll always be my bitch, won't you?" Again I nodded and shuddered as my orgasm grew in intensity. I was incapable of speech, all life-support was transferred to my pussy. "You're going to fuck me everyday aren't you? And suck my cock when I tell you? And nothing will stop it, huh?" I agreed to everything and truly hoped we could make it last. His cock exploded in my pussy, the hot cream gushed out of me. My own loins erupted with my essence. We fell in a sweaty, heaving heap on the damp mattress. I couldn't let this end. That's when I knew that we needed a better plan to keep our affair going, and hidden from Tracy. Because I was my nephew's slut.