Our Secret Sin

The sudden opening of my bedroom door woke me up that Monday morning. As my eyes tried to adjust to the light of day, I could see a thin, blonde woman stomping angrily towards my bed. Fear welled within my heart as I sat up.

"Out of bed, boy!" Aunt Naomi snarled at me. "You know the drill!"

I quickly jumped out of the bed and stood beside it. I put my hands on the mattress and spread my feet shoulder-width apart, as if I was preparing to be arrested. I looked over at Aunt Naomi, who had a leather belt in her hand.

"Let's get this over with," she said.

Standing behind me, she quickly yanked down my pajama pants and underwear. She then reached around and grabbed my limp penis and gave it several squeezes. I clenched my eyes shut and tried to think of the usual: roadkill, a clogged toilet, and being stuck in traffic - anything to keep from getting morning wood.

Aunt Naomi's cold hands made keeping soft somewhat easier. After a few minutes she let go of my manhood and backed away. She then did a thorough inspection of my pajamas, my bed sheets, and my bedroom.

"Very good," she said. "I guess you won't be needing punishment today. Get dressed."

After she left the room and closed the door, I heaved a relieved sigh and collapsed forward onto the bed. Fear was replaced by shame and a certain confusion. These morning checks were getting a bit ridiculous.

Ever since I was 10, I had lived with my Aunt Naomi. She was my mother's sister, and after I had lost both my parents to a car accident, she had taken me into her home. Unfortunately, she was my only living relative, and super conservative.

Living with her meant going to a Christian school on a scholarship, going to church several times a week, and having my internet and television usage scrutinized. I wasn't even allowed to wear casual clothes; Aunt Naomi always insisted on me wearing long pants and plain shirts. While other kids had fun going to pool parties and other unsupervised hangouts in the summer, I was only allowed to go to Bible Camp.

I had lots of friends at my Christian school, but I never invited them over for fear of Aunt Naomi's strictness alienating them from me. The only time I was allowed without question to hang out with my peers was when the church youth group had supervised functions. Still, whenever I came home from a picnic or some other youth group function, my aunt would criticize the parents involved for petty things like letting their daughters wear casual clothes, or playing Christian rock music.

I would have hated Aunt Naomi more, but she'd had it rough. Growing up, my grandparents had raised her as strictly as she had raised me. Also, she spent most of her days taking care of her elderly husband Randolph, who was 30 years her senior and bedridden. The folks at the church were very supportive, and a lot of them came over to help cook, clean, and watch him whenever we could not. It was one of the reasons that Aunt Naomi did not allow me to bring any friends over to the house.

For the most part, I had learned to live with this rigid lifestyle. Aunt Naomi and I co-existed pretty well, as long as I followed the rules in her house. However, things between us had changed.

Last month, after I had turned 18, I had awoken with serious case of morning wood. Aunt Naomi had walked into my room unannounced and noticed it, so she instantly thought that I had been choking the chicken. She went hysterical, subjecting me to several lashes with her favorite leather belt, and then several hours of prayer. Since that day, not only was I banned from unsupervised television time, but she performed daily checks to make sure that I wasn't masturbating. Aside from a few wet dreams, I had been in the clear.

After showering and getting dressed for school, I went downstairs and fixed myself a bowl of cereal. I went outside to find Mr. Larson, one of Aunt Naomi's friends from church, waiting for me. I could have easily walked to school or even taken the bus, but Aunt Naomi didn't trust me not to skip school.

I didn't care, though. I was simply waiting until I turned 21 so that I could start getting money from the trust fund that my parents had set up for me. I was going to get a place of my own, get a girlfriend, and find a nice job.

When I returned home that afternoon, my heart dropped as I saw an ambulance in the driveway. Mr. Larson pulled up along the street and we quickly hopped out of the car. We went inside to see Aunt Naomi escorting two paramedics through the house as they moved a stretcher. There was a large black body bag on top of the stretcher. We didn't need three guesses to find out who was in the bag.

"I'm sorry that you had to see this," Aunt Naomi said stoically. "Your Uncle Randolph has gone to meet Jesus."

"I'm so sorry," I said, awkwardly walking to her and giving her a hug.

She gave me a small pat on the back and muttered thanks. In all my years, I found that hugging Aunt Naomi had all the sentimentality of hugging a streetlight. Mr. Larson went over and gave her a hug, and then clasped her hands as he offered his prayers and sympathies.

The next few days were tumultuous for us. The ladies at church had set up a meal train, bringing us casseroles, pastas, and desserts. The pastor came to pray with the both of us and to discuss the funeral arrangements. A funeral director helped oversee the cremation and planning of the funeral. Through it all, Aunt Naomi was like a rock.

Unfortunately, the death of her husband wasn't enough to distract Aunt Naomi from our morning routine. Every morning, she'd be there to ensure that I was softer than a teddy bear. I guess she didn't have anything better to do after all.

That Saturday, I awoke with a chill. I looked out of my window to see my neighborhood blanketed with snow. I jumped out of bed and dressed for the outdoors. Aunt Naomi was surely going to have me get up and shovel the driveway and sidewalk, so it made sense to try and beat her to the punch. In less than an hour, I cleared the snow and salted the driveway and walkways.

I reentered the house, ready for a nice hot breakfast, but, first, I'd treat myself to a hot shower. I quickly went up to my bedroom and denuded, and then went into the bathroom. After turning on the water, I entered the shower after I felt the water was hot enough. The soothing heat was doing wonders for my achy joints and muscles. It was really hard to find the motivation to leave the hot shower.

Suddenly, the shower curtain was noisily pushed open, causing me to jump and drop my bar of soap. Aunt Naomi was standing outside of the shower, clad in a pink robe. She had a furious look in her eyes and the leather belt in her hand.

"What are you doing in here?!" Aunt Naomi barked.

"Taking a shower!" I cried, trying to shield my nakedness.

"You don't get up this early EVER!"

"I just got finished shoveling the driveway, so I wanted to get a shower afterwards! If you don't believe me, then look outside!"

"Don't you lie to me! You were in here pleasuring yourself!"

"No! I just told you..."

"LIES!" Aunt Naomi screeched. "All lies! Show me your loins!"

"What? No!" I turned off the water.

"Don't you defy me, boy!"

"I'm telling you the truth!"

That still wasn't enough for Aunt Naomi; she began pelting my wet skin with the belt. Any other day I would have curled up in a ball and tolerated it, but I was angry. I had just tried to do something nice for her, and she was rewarding my hard work with corporal punishment.

To her surprise, I intercepted her next blow and was able to wrest the belt from her grip. She instantly put her hands up to shield herself from the assured payback. I stood there, ready to smack her with the belt, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Aunt Naomi," I started. "I'm tired of you treating me this way. From now on, you won't lay a hand on me ever again. If you don't like that, I'll gladly leave this place."

"What are you talking about, you stupid boy?" She spat. "You don't have anywhere else to go."

I stepped out of the shower and used a towel to cover myself. "I could camp out at the Salvation Army. I'd rather sleep with homeless people than live in this comfortable house with you!"

"You miserable ingrate! Your mother would weep if she could hear the way that you're talking to me! You think it's right to treat me this way?"

"What about the way you treat ME?!" I raged, with a tone that surprised the both of us. "I'm tired of being punished for the tiniest things. I may only be 18, but I know that people don't treat their nephews this way. I think you should treat me like a man; you certainly work me like one."

Aunt Naomi folded her arms across her chest and snorted. "A real man doesn't sneak around his aunt's house, pleasuring himself in the shower." Her eyes narrowed down to my crotch. "Ever since you turned 18 you've let that thing down there lead you astray!"

I sighed heavily and walked past her into my bedroom. I saw some fresh clothes folded upon my bed; Aunt Naomi must have come in to drop off some laundry. I tossed aside my towel and Aunt Naomi's belt and grabbed a pair of boxers.

"I want you dressed and downstairs in 5 minutes," she said to me. "We're going to spend all day in the Bible in order to cleanse your mind of this filth and disobedience."

"No," I said. "I'm going to get dressed, have some breakfast, and watch some television."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aunt Naomi getting ready to hit me. Instinctively, I caught her wrist and threw her onto the bed. In my fury, I thought it best to give her a taste of her own medicine. I flipped her over onto her belly, yanked up her robe and dress, and yanked down her underwear. While holding her down, I used her belt to deliver a series of hard smacks to her backside.

The pale skin on her bottom quickly turned dark pink. Aunt Naomi screamed and protested, trying her best to right herself, but I continued to pin her down. She flailed her arms and legs like a child throwing a tantrum, but I had resolved to spank her until she apologized.

Then, something strange happened. The screams and threats started to turn into yelps and moans. Aunt Naomi's limbs stopped thrashing, and she was now holding onto the bed for dear life. Intrigued, I kept spanking her, finding that these new sounds that she was making were better than an apology.

I decided to stop the whipping, looking down at my aunt and feeling a mixture of satisfaction and worry. She flipped herself onto her back. However, there were no tears in her eyes; her eyes were tightly shut, and her face looked so very tired and flushed. To my surprise, I noticed a pair of small protrusions in her shirt that I'd only seen on girls in my class when it got too cold. Her chest rose up and down as she tried to catch her breath.

My eyes went downwards even more and then widened when I noticed that I was face-to-face with Aunt Naomi's bare crotch. I'd only seen a vagina once, and it was in an anatomy book at the library, but the one in that book didn't have as much hair as the one I was staring at. A very curious smell was emanating from it, and I could see it moist with dew. I soon became aware that I was incredibly erect, and it felt really good. Another rash thought entered my head.

Wordlessly, I crawled up to my still-dazed aunt and parted her legs. I'd only heard about sex from my friends at school, but the primal urges within me assured that I could manage it well. I removed by boxers, ready to unleash weeks of suppressed erections upon my aunt.

I looked up at her face, expecting her to protest, but she just stared at me. Her face seemed to be curious as to what I would do but didn't plead for me to stop. I thrust myself into Aunt Naomi.

We both gasped at the moment of our union. I was surprised how good it felt to be inside of her. Why was she so wet? Were women supposed to feel so gooey inside. I began to rhythmically pump in and out of her vagina.

Aunt Naomi's face contorted as she stared me in the eyes. Her eyes then fluttered shut, and she tilted her head back and let out a sound that I'd never heard before. I liked that sound.

The room was silent, save for her mewling and my panting. I surrendered myself to my instincts, uncaring that I was sinning with my mother's sister. She was mine, my woman.

I grabbed the bottom of Aunt Naomi's shirt and yanked it upwards, baring her tiny breasts. Her nipples were stiff and bounced in time with our coitus. With a snarl, I dove forward and feasted on one of them. My aunt bellowed and clutched my head closer to her bosom. Her legs wrapped themselves around my waist as she urged me deeper into herself.

My mouth relinquished the nipple so that I could let out a pained moan. My penis was experiencing a new sort of pleasurable pain. It felt as though a geyser was building within my shaft. Before I realized what it was, an explosion went off within my loins. I blasted my man juice directly into Aunt Naomi.

We continued to lie on the bed, our genitals still in congress with each other. We huffed, trying desperately to recover from our exertions. At last, I was able to pull out of Aunt Naomi and roll over, lying next to her. I looked at my still-erect cock, dribbling with fluids, strangely proud and shocked at where it had been and what it had just done. Suddenly, Aunt Naomi sat up on the bed. She pulled down her shirt, grabbed her panties, and silently left my bedroom. I was alone in my room, feeling newly filthy after my shower.

After cleaning myself up, I got dressed and sat on the edge of my bed, still trying to process what had just happened. Thanks to a lifetime of living with a Bible-thumper, I knew exactly in the Bible where my recent sex was explicitly prohibited. I grabbed my Bible and turned to the Book of Leviticus. There it was, in the 18th chapter: You shall not uncover the nakedness of your mother's sister, for she is near of kin to your mother. Though, anyone without a Bible still knew it was wrong to bang your aunt.

At least it hadn't been rape. Thinking back, I never heard the words 'no' or 'stop'. Aunt Naomi had done nothing to fend me off.

Lastly, I finished inside of her. I tried to think if a 49-year-old woman could still get pregnant. I didn't want to raise any inbred monsters.

The rumbling in my stomach prompted me to head downstairs. I didn't see Aunt Naomi in the kitchen, so I fixed myself a plate of scrambled eggs. Part of me wanted to go look for her and try to talk about what happened, but I wouldn't even know where to start. I resigned myself to watching television and waiting for her to find me when she was ready. I tried not to think about the possibility of her throwing me out and having to be homeless during the winter.

It was about three hours before she walked into the den, wearing a robe and an unreadable expression. I quickly turned off the television and watched as she sat beside me on the couch. She folded her hands in her lap and began to speak.

"I've been in deep thought and prayer, and I realize that I owe you an apology."

I was in shock. I frantically tried to think of any past instances where Aunt Naomi had apologized for anything. I decided to keep my mouth shut and let her keep speaking.

"I feel that in my attempts to discourage your Onanism, I may have caused you to have repressed desires. As your legal guardian, I have tried my best to channel your...physical urges into more productive activities such as chores and prayer, but it doesn't seem to be working."

"So, what should I do?" I asked.

"I have decided to allow you to...self-gratify yourself in the privacy of your own bedroom. I only ask that you not bring any kind of pornography into my home while you address your carnal needs. Would you be fine with that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she said in a clipped voice. "I'm glad that we got that sorted out. You may keep watching television."

With that, she rose from her seat and left the room. Still, it felt like there was still an elephant in the room; we hadn't discussed the fact that we had engaged in incestuous intercourse earlier that same day. On the other hand, it was nice having the rest of the day to myself without Aunt Naomi hassling me about being a slothful layabout. I could watch television, go into the fridge, and not get hassled about what I watch or eat. This was the freest that I had felt in the longest time.

By the time sunset rolled around, I was eating dinner by myself. I was still surprised that Aunt Naomi hadn't emerged from her bedroom to give me some kind of emergency sermon. I almost went to her room to do a wellness check, but I decided to give her some space. After dinner, I enjoyed a few more hours of television before I decided to call it a night. I went up to my bedroom, got into some warm pajamas and climbed underneath my heavy comforter.

I wasn't sure how long I had been in bed before I heard my door creak open. The dim light in the hallway showed a feminine shape standing in the portal of my room. I couldn't see a face, but I knew who it was.

The alarm clock on my nightstand showed that it was almost eleven o'clock at night. I was confused; earlier in the day, she had just given me consent to respect my privacy, so why would she be doing another softness check in the middle of the night? I decided to keep my eyes closed and feign sleep, hoping she would change her mind and leave. I heard her enter my room and shut the door behind her. A few seconds later, I felt the covers on my bed being lifted and someone entering the bed behind me.

My eyes were definitely open now. A myriad of thoughts rushed through my head, among them the urging to keep playing possum or talking to my unexpected new bed partner. Before I could arrive at a decision, I felt a pair of slender hands gently pulling down my pants. I was surprised at how she was able to get the waistline of my pajama bottoms below my buttocks. With one hand she caressed my backside and with another she grasped my penis.

There was no use faking sleep now; I rolled around to face the not-so-mystery woman, wrenching my privates from her grip. Once I was lying on my other side, she quickly pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me. I reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see Aunt Naomi sitting on top of me, completely naked. The sight of her nude body made me instantly erect.

There was no shame or surprise upon her face, only pure longing. Wordlessly, she reached down and began to stroke my shaft with her right hand, whilst fondling her meager breasts with her left. I moaned as my eyes rolled shut, biting my lip as her soft hand pleasured me. I opened my eyes and looked at her lap, watching with delight as she was grinding her hairy crotch against my dick. I stared at our genitals, silently begging her to let them be joined.

At last, she put me inside of her. My heart soared as I watched my dick disappear into that sea of dark blonde pubic hair. Gooey wetness enveloped my manhood and Aunt Naomi began to slowly move up and down upon me. I removed my shirt and tossed it to the floor. As soon as I turned my attentions back to Aunt Naomi, her hands made for my nipples and starting to gently pinch and tweak them.

I cried out with perverse joy, both delighted and embarrassed that I was liking being stimulated with my nipples. What the hell was wrong with me? Aunt Naomi seemed to enjoy it; a deranged smile erupted on her face as she rode me faster and continued to play with my chest.

Intent on gaining some control, I tried to remove her hands, but she fended me off with surprising strength. I surrendered myself to the thin blonde woman who was having her way with me. The air was filled with her shrill panting, my endless moans and groans, and the sound of flesh slapping against each other.