A/N: Hey, new story! This time I've written one that's more of a slowburn and has more plot. That means there's no sex in this first chapter and minimal sexual interactions in the second. That said, once it gets going,
is gon be goin'
Also, I just figured out how to do italics which means the rest of the story isn't formatted properly but I'm too lazy to fix it now.
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A loud and angry buzzing stirred me from my peaceful slumbers. It was the kind that sears your soul, the one that if you happen to hear a sound similar in public a panic descends over you, your heart races and you think, "just a minute more!" I reached over and tapped it lightly, silencing it. The room descended into a blissful tranquility once more. Fuck alarm clocks.
I stretched my muscles and relieved them of their sleep-induced fatigue. Covers tumbled off me as I kicked my legs out.
I had had that one dream, the one that had been haunting me for the last few months. Aunt Kendra pulled my pants down, putting her mouth on my cock but no matter how hard she sucked I would never feel anything. Those sapphire blue eyes of hers looking up at me expectantly as if she were waiting for me to regain feeling in my dick. But it was just a dream and a terribly inappropriate one at that. I shook my head, clearing my mind of thoughts that were best left *unthought*.
"Kam! Come on down, honey!" Her delicate voice carried through the air, a siren's song for my still horny brain. It didn't help that I was still 'up'. In fact, it was practically throbbing my a mix of my dream and her voice. I tried to ignore it and climbed out of bed. I didn't even bother to find a matching outfit, grabbing the first shirt I saw in my closet and a pair of shorts. Functionality over style was my prerogative but even then they did nothing to hide the party raging on underneath.
I walked to my door and opened it. An empty hallway greeted me. Amy and Val's doors were still tightly shut. I vaguely remembered awaking when they had drunkenly come home last night. Amy wasn't really one to drink or at least in the time that I've known her she hasn't ever so I also remember thinking it was strange. She was one to keep to herself, hiding in her bedroom and only coming out when necessary. I wondered what caused last night's drinking binge. It was doubtful she would tell me ever so I continued to the stairs and then down them.
Before I had even made it to the bottommost step, I was tackled by what was essentially a speeding bullet that could also squeal.
Meg's arms wrapped around me with that usual fierceness of hers as I stumbled back. Her high-pitched squeal probably permanently damaged one of my ear drums. I froze, as I always did with her, or any girl for that matter, but especially with her. She was only a year older than me but she made sure to let me know it.
"Kammy," she cried, face snuggling into my chest. It honestly would have been a pleasant thing were it not for two problems: I was still rock hard and her big breasts were pushing up against me. She was wearing a rather low cut blue summer dress and even through that, I could still feel them *and* I could also feel the fact that she was braless, hard nipples poking me.
I blushed furiously.
"I missed you so much!" She held me even tighter and rubbed her boobs against me more.
"Oh Megan, just leave the poor boy alone. He just woke up." Aunt Kendra said from the stove, back turned as she worked on the eggs that were sizzling in a pan in front of her.
"But I haven't seen him in two whole weeks!" She whined, removing her head from my chest to speak but she didn't let me go.
"Don't worry, you'll be able to terrorize him all you want later on. Right now he needs to eat and get to school." She still hadn't turned around to speak, focused on the food in front of her.
Meg looked me in the eyes as she spoke, a devilish grin developing. "I can tell *you're* excited to see me." There was that ever present equally flirtatious and equally teasing twinkle in her eye which only caused me to blush even more. Then, with that devilish hand of hers, she patted me right on my dick. It was a small one, like a boyfriend patting his girl's ass but that only made it worse. I made a little noise of surprise and quickly went to cover my private area.
She usually did stuff like this but it still always caught me off guard. Maybe that's why she continued to do so.
Before I could say anything in response, Aunt Kendra spoke up. "Now, Megan. That is not acceptable behavior for someone who clearly is uncomfortable. You know that." Her hands were on her hips, finally facing us, her expression a scowl. She was wearing a tight white shirt, one that outlined her substantial chest. And by substantial, I mean *substantial*. Hell, it looked like it was close to ripping. It outlined some of her belly, which was not pronounced at all but instead gave her a very thick appearance. A MILF's tummy. Tight jeans completed the look, covering her equally large ass.
Meg bounced off the last step and lightly skipped up to her mother, looking awfully 'repentant' in that faux sort of way she always did, large doe eyes, hands clasped in front of her (which inadvertently made her big tits look even bigger). She pranced right up to her mother, who stood still, brow furrowing at her daughter's nonchalant antics.
"It's ok, Aunt Kendra," I said awkwardly, trying to brush it off and walk as nonchalantly as Meg down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen. It probably looked as bad as it felt, which meant I was fooling no one.
Meg suddenly wrapped her arms around her mother, just like she had with me, snaking them through her mom's which were locked to her hips and then squeezed tight. If I had thought the pat was a surprising turn on, seeing their breasts mash together in a medley of barely contained titflesh was a sight to behold. Aunt Kendra was only an inch or two taller but it was enough that she had to look down just a touch to continue to scowl at Meg's provocative behavior.
"He said it's ok, Mom. Don't be such a party pooper." Her voice had drawn from her doe eyes, sounding a little wistful and vaguely childish, like she was teasing the both of us (which she most definitely was).
Her mother showed no reaction at taunt. "He's a boy in a house full of girls and he's still adjusting. You of all people, Megan, should know how hard transitions are. You need to respect his boundaries." I was a little embarrassed by what was going on as I seated myself at the table, that I was suddenly the center of attention yet also not included in the conversation (which was definitely less anxiety producing still) but my attention was focused elsewhere, namely on their tits.
It looked like their nipples were rubbing against each other, neither having chosen to wear a bra, and Aunt Kendra's surprisingly still-firm boobs held up against her daughter's. It was clear that her mother had the bigger boobs which meant that they were above a 36D. The only reason I knew that was because Meg was very... vocal about it, randomly slipping it into conversations that were completely unrelated. As a result, they were being pushed a far bit more than Aunt Kendra's. Hell, Meg's breasts were looking like they would spill out of her top at any moment. I also didn't fail to notice how close their faces were, looking like they could kiss at any moment.
"He's fine. He's gonna need to get used to it anyway. This house *exudes* libido." Meg responded.
Aunt Kendra shook her head. "Us women may be sexually libertine in this household but that doesn't mean *everyone* is and you, young lady, need to respect that."
And if that wasn't the truth, I didn't know what was.
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My parents had been killed when I was nine. It was abrupt. One day things were 'normal' and the next everything was different, chaotic and they were never the same again.
I don't really know all the details about what caused them to get killed. I do know that it had been a drunk driver but nothing else than that. No one had ever double checked with me, no one really sat me down and explained it. It was just something that had happened and I was expected to move on.
Custody was given to my uncle. For ten years I lived under his roof and for ten years I dreamed of leaving. It's hard to exactly capture what had happened, the depth of it but I can say this. My parents' accident had caused his mental health to spiral and soon his choice of coping strategy became a bottle of whiskey. I won't dwell on it here but the situation at home devolved as quickly as he had and it wasn't very long until I was missing a lot of school because having to walk past him to get to the door was too volatile an affair for me.
I knew I had become socially stunted after that. I hadn't hung out with friends in years, I didn't know how to talk to women, and I struggled with normal people. To save myself, I moved out when I was nineteen and for the last month I had been staying with my aunt, who was more than glad to take me in, especially upon hearing the condition her brother was in.
Aunt Kendra, Meg, and Valery had all received me quite warmly, Meg and Aunt Kendra in particular. Aunt Kendra had seemingly made it her mission to help me resocialize and become comfortable in the real world. She enrolled me in classes at my local community college, would come talk to me every night, and would ask Megan or Valery to take me on trips with them to get me out of the house.
