Note: after my "I-spy" submission I decided to be a bit bolder with the relationship of the "aunt" in this one, but again it's only to add an extra naughtiness to a MILF scenario.
*
Pat had come to visit her sister Linda. She had not seen her for just over a year, having been working at the other end of the country. It had been good to catch up with Linda and her husband Tony. It had been good, too, to see her nephew Mark. It was summer and Mark, half way between his eighteenth and nineteenth birthday, was due to go away to start college in a few weeks' time.
Mark was a little shy but polite and witty. He often made a droll comment that made his parents, and her, laugh. She had also noticed Mark's secretive, sidelong glances at her body. She sensed that his father (her brother-in-law) did the same, but was more subtle. But it was her nephew's glances that she was aware of. Her young, inexperienced nephew, naive enough to think that she would not notice...
At first she was shocked to find herself the object of her nephew's attention, and felt uncomfortable when she was in the house alone with him. But after a day or two she was flattered that he found her attractive, and enjoyed his discreet admiration. In fact she found herself positively, but subtly, encouraging it. Her breasts were only small but she left one more blouse button undone than she usually would and made sure that from time to time he got chance to see inside. When she was emptying the washing machine or pegging out the washing she bent forward to give a teasing flash of her breasts. She left her nightdresses and underwear on the washing line well after they were thoroughly dry so that he could see them, and imagine her in them. And if she wore trousers she made sure that she wore small panties to show off her tight backside.
She had told herself at first that it was harmless and that she was merely enjoying feeling attractive and desirable. After all, she had no one at the moment and her sexuality had been at a fairly low ebb for some time. And, at forty-eight years old, it was good to feel desirable, especially to a lad in his late teens -- even if he was her nephew.
Her sister had taken some time off during her stay but had to go into works some days, and her brother-in-law Tony worked long hours. As she became more conscious of her Mark's interest in her, she began to feel an intimacy about being on her own in the house so much of the time with him, nephew or not. There was a veiled but inherent closeness about spending time chatting and laughing together, watching television together and eating together. And she found that his furtive glances at her breasts, her long legs or her backside were stirring her feelings more and more.
Of course, she had resisted these feelings at first, shocked and disgusted with herself to find herself thinking of her nephew in a sexual way. But the knowledge that he also felt drawn to her lessened her sense of shock and guilt.
Knowing Mark's secret desire for her made her acutely aware that she was sleeping in the next room to him, and that only a thin wall separated them when she was dressing or undressing. When she showered in the en-suite she wondered whether he was thinking about her naked, soothed and stimulated as the water streamed down her body or as she towelled off. She caught herself wondering whether he masturbated as he thought about her. Again, the idea revolted her at first. But her revulsion wore off and she wondered more frequently whether or not he did. The possibility that his lust for her was so intense that he reached orgasm as he thought about her soon excited her.
She began of think of him sexually more often. His appearance was nothing special, but his nearness, his slight shyness, and his failed attempts to hide his desire were very arousing. She even began to wonder whether to make a move. Despite her grave reservations the thought came to her more often, and with growing intensity. And at eighteen years old, he was hardly a child. She was sure that he would respond if she made the first move. She was also sure that even if he rejected her advances -- which seemed unlikely -- he would not tell her sister. It was fortunate as well that the back of her sister's house was not overlooked -- at least there was no need to draw any curtains and arouse suspicion.
That morning she had looked in the full-length mirror in the hall and tried to look at herself objectively. She was tall and slim, and her legs were long and still fairly slender and shapely. Her hair was light brown and she wore glasses. Her neck was slightly lined, but her face was still relatively wrinkle-free. Her breasts were only small but she prided herself in their firmness and in their being mounted quite high. Hey, she told herself, for a forty-eight year old she looked pretty damn good!
Mark was in the garden trimming the hedge that ran all around it. When he had done two sides of it she made coffee and called him inside. She tried to sound casual as she worked through a script she had rehearsed in her head many times.
"I just cant believe where time goes, Mark. Here you are waiting to go to college, and it doesn't seem five minutes since you were just a boy!"
Despite himself he glanced below the hem of his aunt's red knee-length skirt at her long legs, admiring the shiny nylon of her skin-tone tights. Her pink jumper was thin and hugged her pert, B-cup breasts. The outline of her narrow bra straps showed through it. Earlier he had admired the way her panties showed against her skirt. Having seen many pairs on the washing line and hanging inside to air, he wondered which she was wearing. They were not tiny, but they were briefer than he would have imagined his aunt to wear. The fact that she chose to wear sexy underwear excited him.
She felt reassured by his gaze but pretended not to notice.
"You used to sit on my knee and I'd read you a story," she said, hoping that her voice sounded casual.
"And look at you now! You couldn't sit on my knee now! In fact I'D have to sit on YOUR knee to read YOU a story!"
He laughed quietly and politely, trying hard to subdue the thought of his hot aunt sitting on his knee, with her tight backside and the backs of her slender thighs resting on his lap and right next to his hands, and her breasts close to him, maybe even touching him. He felt an erection beginning. He blushed. She smiled.
"Actually, Mark, I have a story I could tell you, if you like," she asked quietly.
"Well -- go on then, Auntie Pat."
"Shall I sit on your knee to tell it to you?"
He felt his blush deepen. He was sure that her suggestion was entirely innocent. After all, as well as being more than twice his age, she was his mother's sister, and, despite his fantasies about her, he was certain that they were purely wishful thinking on his part. Nevertheless, he felt mortified by the idea of her sitting on his knee, afraid that she would notice his rising erection. Desperately, but unsuccessfully, he willed it to subside.
"I... I'm not sure about that, Auntie Pat..." he said.
She laughed.
"I'm only slim you know, Mark! I won't crush you!"
Her innocent response caught him off-guard, and underlined his dilemma.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you would..."
She smiled back at him.
