Seducing His Aunt

Quick Note: This is literally the first erotic story I've written. Set your expectations accordingly. I hope you'll find it enjoyable!

The one word that could most describe James was *driven*, and James got what he wanted. Even as a child, James didn't want presents, he wanted *money*. What toys had been forced on James got kept mint-in-box to await the time some nostalgic person was willing to shell out the big bucks for them. Books he could get at the library, ditto DVDs, music. Free entertainment was all over. The money, he invested. Savings bonds and interest-bearing bank accounts at first, and then more lucrative investments. High school he started three years ahead of everyone else, and when economics class got to "ethical" investments, James drove himself right to the opposite, investing in amoral, unethical, companies that would offer the most returns. He was driven alright; not to live the middle-income lives of his parents, his relatives, and everyone else around him.

Winning a scholarship that got him through college came as no surprise to anyone, nor that he held down a full time job for the first two years. At the end of high school, he'd had a cool 500k in the bank. Year three of college he tipped a million, and investing became his full-time job. He never bragged about it, or mentioned to anyone how much he made a year, but he did hint at it in his appearance, his car, bespoke clothing and shoes. Even his family didn't have a good impression about how much James was really worth.

His aunt Vikki and uncle Ed were much closer to the college than his parent's house, and Vikki had extended the offer for him to come over many times over the last four years, but the young man always made some vague excuses as to why he wasn't going to visit. That was odd, and then it got odder when James called up one day during summer break and announced that he was "finally ready" for a visit. Vikki had formed a theory as to what it was all about...

Vikki was about five years younger than her sister, and still well in her prime, and James had seemed to notice that. Sometime around his 17th birthday he'd visited with the family and quickly found himself captivated by both her looks, and her intellect. He'd actually made a pass at her. A really damn good one if she was being honest. Vikki had demurred it as gently as possible, but after that, James had never come to visit. Perhaps he'd been so mortified by her rejection that he decided stay away until he felt enough time had passed that they could move past it.

Her husband, Ed, was still at work when James pulled up in a dark green 1968 Ford Mustang GT that looked right out of a movie. The big muscle car was in fabulous condition and the engine had a sexy rumble to it as it pulled into the driveway. For a 17 year old, James was a good looking stud, but he was still 17. That was the picture of him that had remained in her mind for four years. The young man who stepped out of the car was James, but he looked like a man, a real man. Vikki struggled to find some better words, but just couldn't think of anything that better encompassed it than "man". All man. The kind of man that put other men to shame.

James was tall, muscular, sharp-eyed, and every movement seemed to be with deliberate confidence. Vikki had never seem clothing fit a man so well aside from movies. From the Ray-Ban sunglasses on down, he was just perfect. The bespoke clothing really showed off his form, and he looked more like the head of a Fortune 500 company than a college student on break. Vikki couldn't see him looking at her because of the sunglasses, but she could *feel* his gaze, she could read his desire in the sly smile. Oh fuck, was that a jewelry box in his hand?!

Before she could really react further, James had crossed the distance from his car to the open front door where Vikki stood.

"Vikki, it's so nice to see you, it's been far too long," his voice rumbled out in a deep, rich, baritone. Vikki. Not "aunt Vikki", just "Vikki". She felt a little electric shiver down her spine as James pulled off his sunglasses, and fixed his hungry eyes on her.

Before she could really react, his free hand came out, cupping the back of her neck, and he leaned in, kissing her. Not on the cheek, not even softly on the lips, he just *kissed* her. No tongue, nothing clumsy and oafish, but his lips moved against hers. Vikki could have stopped the kiss, and told herself she should stop the kiss, but she didn't. It went on far longer than it should for a relative, or really, anyone but her husband Ed. That kiss explained everything about why he was here, of that she had no doubt. The kiss ended, and the hand moved down to the small of her back, and remained there.

Vikki let it remain there. James *wanted* her, and he wanted her in a way she had not felt in a very, very, long time. The way he looked at her was arrogant, commanding, demanding. He looked at her not as an aunt, Vikki felt, but as a woman he was going to fuck. He looked as if it was a foregone conclusion. James was going to fuck her. He wasn't going to try, he was going to. He knew it, Vikki knew it.

"James," she breathed out his name, and took a moment to collect herself. "Come in, please." She paused, laughed conversationally. "We're going to let all the cold air out."

With a nod, James came in, closing the door behind him. "I'm really sorry I didn't come over sooner, Vikki, I hope this makes up for it a little bit," he said, holding out the small box.

"James, you didn't have to," she murmured as she took the box, opened it, and gasped aloud. It was a Cartier necklace that Vikki estimated was worth enough money to buy a mid-sized sedan. Easily it was the most expensive gift anyone had ever given her.

"Yes I did," he said, in a voice that left no room for an argument. His hands moved up, taking the necklace out of the box. "Here, turn around," James said, moving her to a full-length mirror in the hallway. He stood right behind her, so close that Vikki felt if she leaned back a quarter of an inch she would feel his cock pressing into her. She didn't know what would be worse; to find that he was hard behind her, or that he wasn't. His hands moved deftly, putting the necklace around her formerly bare neck, and clasping it into place. His hands flowed down her sides to take hold of her by the hips, and while he was far too suave to just grab her ass, Vikki found herself wanting him too.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever been given," she said, softly. She leaned backwards, and she felt his erection, and felt herself shuddering. Even through all the fabric between them, Vikki knew that it was hard, and it was big. "Ed," she paused, licking suddenly dry lips. "Ed's going to be home in about 20 minutes..." She finally managed to murmur out, hoping it would slow down James's advance. It didn't.

"I never really understood what you saw in Uncle Ed, he's such a loser," he muttered, his hands holding her more firmly. "You deserve an actual man, Vikki, not some nebbish metrosexual wimp." That should have been more than enough. Vikki should have put her foot down, insulting her husband was a bridge too far. She should have, but what really happened was that she got soaking wet between her legs. Ed hadn't kept himself up, he didn't have the poise or confidence and vigor that he once did. He'd settled completely into the urban rut, and she'd gone right along with him.

She leaned further back into James, and his hands now boldly and freely caressed along her ass. James bent his head down, kissing against the back of her neck, around to one side, up, against her earlobe, suckling against it gently. One of his hands went around to her front, fingers walking the hand right down between her legs. "I'm going to give you the fucking you deserve, Vikki," he stated. He didn't ask, didn't say she should fuck him, he'd decided and that was that.

"I know," was all the answer she could muster. This was insanity, they weren't even past the front door! He was just so sure, so commanding, so powerful. Vikki's mind idly wondered for a moment how many of his friend's girlfriends James had fucked. Probably all of them. Vikki moved one hand up, behind her, to the back of James's head, sliding her fingers through his hair. This was so wrong, and she knew it. She also knew that any protest she made would be halfhearted and weak. James was right, he was ready now. Ready to take her.

After a few moments, James turned Vikki around, moving both hands to cup her rear, and draw her right up against him. Once more she could feel his erection pressing against her, and her gut feeling was that his cock was going to be as big as his ego. His lips came down again, kissing her. Slow, leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Vikki lost all track of time as they kissed, only faintly realizing that about the time his tongue had entered her mouth, he had backed her up against the door.

"Oh look, the cuck cometh home," he murmured as he broke away from her lips. Vikki's eyes shot wide open, and the reality of what was happening slammed down on her. She gasped out, straightened herself, and ungracefully wiggled out of James's embrace and straight into a panic. Sanity came crashing down on her and Vikki made herself hurriedly ready, while James casually walked off to the living room.

For a few minutes, life returned to some fiction of normality. Vikki greeted Ed with a kiss to the cheek, let him know that James was over. Ed didn't even notice the necklace she was wearing, which both relieved and infuriated her. She went to the kitchen to check on dinner while she heard Ed and James making their hellos.

That illusion of reality shattered when James said, "Ed, go to my car and grab my suitcase and leave it in the guest room, I left the door open. Lock it for me." Once again, James was ordering, not asking. Vikki heard Ed seemingly flummoxed for a few moments before he said, "Sure thing," and off he went out to get it. Vikki seethed internally at how pathetic her husband was, blithely taking orders from the new Alpha of the house. He probably even liked it.

Dinner was more of the same. James devoted all of his attention to Vikki, only sparing Ed a glance when he wanted Ed to fetch something. As the conversation went on, James managed to find little ways of putting down Ed, and Ed managed to find ways of mousily accepting it.

Eventually, Ed managed to summon up enough wherewithal to ask, "So, uh, James, how long do you think you'll be staying?"

James turned his head, looking at Vikki, flashing her a sly smile that made her blush. His eyes remained locked on her while he answered. "Oh, I'll be here through summer break." Ed cringed at the response, but said nothing.

Dinner ended with James's profuse compliments to the chef, another thing Ed barely ever did, and they retired to the living room. Neither Ed nor Vikki were surprised when James ordered Ed to make drinks for them, nor that James kept up a very one-sided conversation with Vikki that entirely shut Ed out.

As the night wore on, James let his eyes wander to the back yard of the house, where he spotted a nice outdoor couch. "I'm going to go have a cigar, come out and sit with me, Vikki," he said as he stood up, picking up his suit jacket, and slipping a leather cigar case out of the inner pocket.

Ed blinked at that, "You smoke? You smoke cigars?" Ed seemed genuinely shocked, taken aback, as if blindsided by another expression of James's masculinity.

"It's a thing real men sometimes do, Ed. That's why it's coming as such a shock," James snapped. "Come on, Vikki," James said as he put his arm around his aunt. "Bring your purse, too."

Vikki looked over to Ed, waiting for him to get angry, or invite himself along, or do *something* other than capitulate. When Ed did nothing but seem to acquiesce, Vikki shot him a withering look of defiance, and parted from James long enough to grab her purse, returned to his arm, and headed outside with him.

When they got outside, James escorted Vikki to the couch, and then settled down next to her. He opened the leather case that held two metal tubes to hold cigars, a cutter, and torch lighter. With practiced ease, he extracted one of the large, thick, expensive looking cigars, wetting the cap between his lips, and then snipping it off with the cutter. As he took out the lighter, he idly murmured to Vikki. "Have one of those cigarettes you keep in your purse and never tell the cuck about."

Vikki blinked in shock. "I... how did you even know that?" She asked, rather stunned.

"The last time I was here, I looked through your purse. It's the kind of thing horny kids do. Since I'd never seen you have a cigarette, I assumed that your worthless husband was too much of a pussy to handle you smoking, so you hid it from him. I took a gamble you hadn't bothered to quit in the last four years," he said, as he applied the torch lighter, gently toasting the end of the cigar without letting the flame touch it directly.

"Ed's still in the living room, " she said, looking over her shoulder, watching as her husband settled into some program on the TV. "He'll see!"

James didn't respond immediately, instead taking a long drag on his cigar, and smoothly releasing a thick cloud of smoke into the night. "I don't give a fuck what he sees," James replied. "I didn't ask you to have one, Vikki, I told you to have one."

Vikki thought about that, licking her lips nervously as a bit of excitement and terror welled up inside of her. She felt like she was 13 again, hiding her smoking from her parents. She wasn't 13 anymore, though. She was a grown woman, and James had given her an order. She was really starting to love James giving her orders. She licked her lips again, nervousness on her features giving way to a wicked smile. She opened the purse, and pulled out a long, white, 120-style cigarette, placing it between her lips. She looked into the house at Ed, and Ed looked out of the house at her, mouth agape. She locked eyes on her husband, and flicked her lighter to life, lighting up the cigarette and taking an especially long drag on it. Her head turned away to exhaled the smoke as James put one arm around her shoulder, and pulled her close to him.

Ed watched, dumbly, stupidly, as his wife and nephew sat outside, smoking, talking, laughing. James's cigar was large, thick, and lasted a very long while. By Vikki's second cigarette, James's hand was moving through her hair, clawing fingernails against her neck, or stroking her ear or cheek softly as they spoke. By her third cigarette, their conversation had gotten very soft, very murmured. Ed couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he'd seen James kissing her. On her fourth cigarette of the evening, James's arm was no longer around her shoulder. It was either in his lap, or in Vikki's, and Ed was pretty sure it was Vikki's. He sat there, in shock, worried that while they were smoking, James had his hand between Vikki's legs, and his nephew was working his wife's pussy over with his fingers. When Vikki arched her back, shuddered violently, and exhaled out a cloud of smoke with stuttering breath, he was absolutely positive she had just climaxed.

Ed sat there, mute with shock, terrified the way someone feels *just* as they're about to go over the first hill of a roller coaster, and harder than he had been in years. His mind was so awash in a haze of confused thoughts, he didn't even notice Vikki coming back in. James was still outside, smugly finishing off his cigar as Vikki stood in front of Ed.

"Not a fucking word," she snapped at him frostily, and walked off to the bedroom.

Ed followed after, and the two prepared for bed in mute silence, Vikki slipping under the covers and turning her back on Ed. It hadn't been long after the lights went out that Vikki followed another one of James's orders. Ed could feel the bed moving, shifting, as Vikki started fingering herself. The sound of her moans were sensual, erotic, sinful in a way Ed had never heard from her. He stayed on his side of the bed, back to her, his erection achingly hard as he listened to his wife get herself off. Just as she came, Ed heard her moaning out softly, "James..."

It was around 2 in the morning when Ed woke to the feeling of Vikki slipping out of the bed. As he pulled himself to consciousness, Ed waited, hoping that Vikki had just gotten up to go to the bedroom. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, then twenty. At half past the hour, Ed pushed himself up and got out of the bed. He felt compelled to verify his suspicions, terrified and aroused at what he expected he would find.

He could hear sounds coming from the guest bedroom, muffled, heated conversations, the occasional creaking sound of the bed. His feet padded softly until he reached the door. It had been fully closed, but Ed could still hear the conversation going on inside.

"James," he heard Vikki moan out again. "James..... stop, please, just listen for a moment," Vikki said from behind the door, panting. There was no audible answer from his nephew, but a pause filled the air, and Ed imagined that James was just staring at her imperiously, waiting for her to speak. "We can't do this, James!" She spoke out, more loudly than she meant, and lowered her voice, making Ed strain to hear her.

"You're my nephew, for fuck's sake, James! You're my sister's son. Not to mention I'm married. I have a husband, James. A man whose bed I should be in right now. This has got to stop here! You fingered me, you kissed me, just.... let it go, James. It can stop right here, and we can all forget about it." Ed's heart leapt happily as he heard his wife calling a stop to her incestuous infidelity. He could forgive tonight, blame it on the alcohol, and it would never be spoken of again.

"Are you quite done?" James asked.

"James..." Vikki replied pleadingly.

"Vikki, I don't give a fuck about your little cuck husband. He's a pathetic loser, and he always has been. You know that, don't you?" He said with a snarl. "You watched how he reacted tonight, he fucking loved it. Little fucking twerp doesn't know shit about pleasing you. You know it's true. Now say it."

"I'm not going to call my husband.... oh fuck.... James!" Vikki's protests were cut off suddenly. James had moved swiftly, and Ed could hear Vikki moaning behind the door.

"Do you like my fingers there, slut?" He asked.

With a loud whimper, Vikki gasped out. "Yes...."

"And whose cunt is this?" He asked with a low growl in his voice.

"Yours. It's yours," she cried out, her whimpering growing louder, coming faster.

"And just what is that little shit you call your husband?" James said. Whatever his fingers were doing intensified, and Ed heard a long moan drawn out from Vikki.

"A loser," she gasped out. "He's a pathetic loser.... oh fuck, James!" His fingers worked their magic over Vikki's sex while Ed listened behind the door, frozen like a deer in headlights, his cock throbbing in his underwear, listening as James brought Vikki to yet another orgasm. Ed clenched his eyes shut, feeling tears running down his cheeks, hearing Vikki brought to the kind of orgasm he'd never provided her.

"I think it's time you saw my cock," James announced. What?! All this time, and his cock hadn't even come out?! Ed had just assumed that by now, she'd at least seen his shaft. But no, he was going to be there to witness the event, well, at least hear it. Inside the room, James slid off his bed, stood up, and dropped his boxers down.

"Oh my *god*," Vikki gasped. "It's more than twice as big as Ed!" Ed heard more movement, and in his mind, he assumed Vikki had gotten out of the bed, and was now kneeling down in front of his nephew's monster cock.

"I know," James said. "But you're never going to have to worry about seeing his pathetic little worm again. Now suck on it." Ed gulped. Vikki never wanted to go down on his cock. She'd indulged him a few times, to be nice, but clearly never enjoyed it. This was contrasted against the loud and lustful groan Vikki gave. The sounds were soon muffled as her lips wrapped around James's cock.