[©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; CHARACTERS DO NOT SHOW PROPER REMORSE FOR THOSE WHO HAVE PASSED ON; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]
[How to parley free tickets into sex romp with supersexy aunt and her twin: my mom?]
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They say it's better to be lucky than good. Well, I don't know about that. I will tell you that I entered one of those contests for tickets to the Final Four (actually the 'elite eight')...and won!
The problem was my alma mater (It's the one with the big green reptile mascot) wasn't going to be in it, thereby eliminating my team and my interest. So, what now?
Well the prize was $1,000 spending money (yes, I was keeping that), 2 tickets to the 'elite eight' games, and airfare from home to stadium.
Now I knew that my surly dad and his equally nasty brother LOVED the game; they had March Madness at the viral stage. I thought it would be better that they got tickets rather than my risking $50 on line to try and sell them.
Let me introduce you to some of the players of tonight's drama. My name is James. I just graduated high school and now, at 18, I was moving out of the house.
Unfortunately, my scholarship requests just missed the cut; with no help from my father, I'd have to find the type of lucrative job that a H.S. diploma brings. As it was now, I was continuing my summer job of working on eighteen wheelers. Fun, it wasn't.
In New Orleans were my Aunt Christine and her hubby, the churlish Billy. What was unusual was that my aunt was my mother's twin, so two brothers married two (twin) sisters.
After I offered the tickets to the 'brothers nasty', I heard back right quick:
Mom: "Sweetheart, your uncle says those tickets don't do him any good. Unfortunately, it caused a terrible fight. Aunt Christine has no kids, as you know, and doesn't like being 'abandoned' as she often is for golf, etc., so she put her foot down about this week off in basketball fantasy land. If he went to the tournament, your Aunt would be there, all alone. Her only entertainment would be yoga and her workouts. It would be pretty boring."
All of a sudden, it hit me like a lightning bolt! Aunt Christine (Chris) and that damn white leotard of hers! God, I remember her working out in our basement last Thanksgiving.
That transparent gauzy thing clung to her unbelievable 39 year old body like it was spray painted on. And now she'd be all alone??? Holy Hannah! This would be 'open season' on my aunt.
Me: "Mom, I have it!! Uncle Billy and dad can have the tickets and drive to the tournament. It's not that far from here on the interstate. I will convert the airline tickets to the tournament to roundtrip for me to see Aunt Chris. She and I had a wicked backgammon and dominoes contest still running since she babysat a few years ago. That will free everyone up and I can hit Bourbon Street and keep Aunt Chris from going crazy!"
Mom was delighted and ran up to kiss me. To her utter shock, I caught her, diverting her to kiss me square and not merely on the cheek. Her eyes almost bugged out in shock. She pushed me away, saying I shouldn't have done that to my own mom. I apologized.
Well, everything was set in motion. My dad would drive to Kansas City for the games and meet my uncle driving up from New Orleans. I for my part would fly down to New Orleans. Dad and Uncle Billy would be gone for a solid week.
Aunt Chris greeted me at the terminal. Then we headed off to see the wreckage of what was 'lower' New Orleans. She lived on the (relatively) high ground of the Museum District where Katrina only took a few oak trees.
I settled into the guest room and came out to the living room. There, my aunt had already set up a dominoes set of tiles and a beautiful marble backgammon set.
I guess she believed my cover story about wanting to play games. She had gotten into 'something more comfortable', a simple house robe and slippers. She DID have a nice bottle of brandy at the ready, I will give her that.
To Aunt Christine's surprise, I sat on a big leather chair and grabbed her as she walked by, pulling her onto my lap.
Auntie: "Okay, Jimmy, that's real cute. Now let's remember that you're just here to keep me company."
Me: "The hell with the games! I didn't fly down to this godforsaken place just to play tidily-winks. My mom has told me a thousand times about her twin, pining away in this southern hellhole--stuck in a loveless marriage with the brother of my nasty father."
Me: "Mom said that you were surprised that your hubby aged badly...he not only lost his hair but some of his height and all of his personality. All the while, here you were, one of the most beautiful women in the world, along with my mom, untouched and unloved. To think that that fertile womb of yours was not used even once by that impotent little weasel."
I kept goading her, ratcheting up the criticism to get a reaction. Nothing worked so far. Well, a knight's move was called for...I'd go for broke.
Me: "Auntie Chris, I've got seven days to talk you into the sack. I'd prefer not using any of our time on begging or demanding. So, I'm going to close my eyes. In two minutes, I'll open them when you tell me to. Either you will have my rolling bag out for me to grab a cab to the airport...OR...you will have that robe neatly folded on the couch, ready for ACTION!"
I closed my eyes and could only hope. Sure enough, I could hear my rolling bag. Damn.
Auntie: "Time's up!"
I slowly opened my eyes, noting that the rolling bag must have been rolled out and then returned to the room. Real cute! I turned and saw her robe...neatly folded on the distant couch! There to the side was the incredible sight of Aunt Chris, almost a carbon copy of my mom (okay, Aunt Chris was a bit heavier.)
This was the first time that I had seen (a copy) of my mom and it was awesome. If you are old enough to remember the actress Inger Stevens (from TV and movies), that was about how my aunt, and mom, looked.
In fact, at the start of 'a Guide for the Married Man', Ms. Stevens worked out in a leotard similar to my aunt's. If you saw it even once you wouldn't have forgotten it.
Both my aunt and my mother had flawless complexions, tiny buttons for noses, pouting ruby lips, dazzling smiles, and figures worthy of Michelangelo. Aunt Chris must have been a 36D up top if ever there was one: So heavy, so full, and so very real.
Without the robe she stood in just her big cupped bra and a thin whisper of thong bikini bottoms. Big curls of blonde beaver muff were visible peeping out of the top and sides of those bikini bottoms. I hate the expression 'camel toe' but that was definitely the case regarding Aunt Chris and those skimpy bottoms.
With a set of boobs like that, she needed nothing else. It was just an extra bonus that her bikini-waxed thighs glistened, her legs were shapely, ankles slender, and feet smooth, graceful and petite.
I motioned my aunt to come over to me on the love seat. She wiggled over obediently.
Me: "I'm not going to be coy or cool; I want to spend the whole week with you—in bed. I want to fuck your brains out. Afterwards, you're going to get on the phone and tell your sister how good I am and how she should succumb to my advances."
Auntie Chris had heard enough, maybe too much. She hauled off and slapped me. I knew that I deserved it and did nothing. There was an awkward silence for a few moments.
Then, I softly took her by the elbow and pushed her down onto the love seat. I then proceeded to strip myself. Though I wasn't Mr. Olympia, working at that truck terminal did keep me in great shape.
In spite of herself, her hands reached out to caress my muscles and then to reach for the gigantic bulge in my athletic shorts. She shoehorned it out and gasped at its enormity. She keyholed it and it grew quickly to its ten inch size.
All of a sudden, there was a definite change. From the innocent childless aunt I knew emerged an animal. Auntie Chris got on her knees as if worshipping. She yanked my cock free and it loomed above her like a log.
Her mouth instantly paid homage, sliding up and down the ten inch pillar of manhood. All the while, she stared at me, her eyes adoring. I never understood the allure of someone 'going down on you' until that day.
God, I felt like Pharaoh Ramses as her teeth slid slowly up and down the length of my rod. I wasn't going to last long if this continued.
As Aunt Chris was going absolutely wild on the 'meat' I packed, I wanted to test her yet again.
Me: "Wait, Aunt Chris. What about Uncle Billy? Should we be using your marital bed? And what if he decides he finally wants a baby when he comes back?" [That elicited a big laugh from her.]
Auntie: "Are you kidding? I wouldn't want a baby from that shrunken little gnome if they paid me a million. What genes did he offer: A tiny dick, family jewels the size of green peas, a wonderful head of scalp, and muscles like Jell-o? Now that I think about it, I wonder if that band of tornadoes got him on the trip up to the games. It would be a terrible 'tragedy'."
At this point, I eschewed all timidity and just picked up that Bourbon Street tart. I carried her to her marital bed and dumped her like a sack of mail.