Aunt Rita's New Year Treat!

Happy New Year, guys! Thought you'd want to know how your favorite, Aunt Rita, celebrated the eve with young Dave. I'm writing this piece as a special treat for my readers. Hope you like it!

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January 1st, 430 am

Dave shot a quick look at the posh hotel room door and was relieved to find it safely shut. Barring the light from the tall lampshade, which had fallen on the floor by the bed, the swish interiors of the suite were still awaiting the crack of dawn. The ornate ceiling, however, was drenched in an eerie shade of red, due to the light from the lamp filtering through the discarded lingerie that was covering it.

"Dave, stop! I need to go pee. Give me a few minutes, please..." Aunt Rita howled while matching the thrusts behind her. "Let me go, my love! I can't hold it this long," she slurred, feeling the concoction of drinks in her body hit her throat once again.

The young man was running high on a heady mix of lust, youth, alcohol, Viagra, memories of the year gone by and the success of his plan from the night before. Moreover, it hadn't been difficult for him to pin her down, when she ambled out of bed to relieve herself. Her call for help, once she had slumped onto the carpet in her inebriated state, had woken him up from his well-deserved slumber.

It had been less than an hour since he had discharged inside her for the nth time, before dosing off with his member still inside her. But, as he had stood over the naked frame of his sex goddess, his hands had inadvertently reached for her slender waist rather than her shoulders. Her appreciation for his help had quickly changed to her weak struggle to get back onto her feet, as he had lifted her just enough have her buttocks at a comfortable angle for him to part.

Dave raised his hands momentarily to wipe the sweat off his brow before placing it back on the head of the woman who was on her knees underneath him. Pressing her face into the plush mattress of the bed, Dave steadied his feet on the velvet carpet before hunching forward to go deeper and faster with his strokes.

In an attempt to shift her focus away from the anal assault and its impact on her bladder, Rita tried to move her gaze to the wall in front of her and stopped at the solo painting that hung lifelessly on it. It depicted a ship battling a storm, and she couldn't quite tell whether it was sinking or successfully fighting its way through.

Her own sentiments were much the same, as she dug her nails into the soft edges of the mattress, angling her neck just enough to be able to breathe. She couldn't quite recall when Dave had handcuffed her. But with the level of alcohol in her system, and over a lifetimes' worth of fuck-fest in one night, the 42 years old housewife was pleased that she still remembered the name of the stallion ripping through her asshole.

Her unprotected breasts were hitting against the wooden footboard rather rhythmically now, as her young lover found deeper penetration behind her by placing his hands on her slender neck. He was allowing just enough oxygen to reach her lungs, although that wasn't his conscious priority.

"Woooosh! Here I go!" she announced, letting out her trapped fluids meant for the toilet, onto the carpet underneath her. There was no sense of shame or control in her current state, and with Dave rocking her delicate back so brutally, his jerks took their toll on her tiny bladder. She felt a sense of momentary relief before his soaked legs parted her thighs even further. His palms were back on her head, although this time, she found his little finger to suck on.

Her eyes traced down the wall and stopped at the top of the coffee table. Apart from an empty champagne bottle, she recognized a bottle of whiskey that they had consumed over the last few hours of her conscious evening before she had blanked out. She struggled to remember the name of this whiskey, but for someone who had never tasted alcohol in her entire life, all that she could recall was that it was Glen-something.

In the seconds before she passed out once again, the events of the past evening flashed before her eyes.

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December 31st, 9 pm

"I'll wait here, Dave. You get the keys," Rita whispered nervously, as the duo entered the hotel lobby. Her anxiety was understandable. This was a hotel that was less than a mile away from her home, and one where she would usually come with her friends for an afternoon of cards - one of those friends was Daves' mum.

Never in her wildest dreams had Rita imagined standing in its busy lobby, without any undergarments underneath her embroidered kaftan, and ironically, with a bag full of sexy lingerie and a handsome stud who had curated the said ensemble for her. Daves' fascination with dressing her up was recent, and while she found it cute, it was OK till the time it was for his eyes only, in the safe confines of her apartment. Rita felt cheap, and unknown to her, it was about to get worse.

Dave looked at Rita and licked his lips as she bit hers. It had been tough convincing her to step out with him for New Years' eve. In fact, she had tried her best to seduce him by doing what she considered 'dirty talk'. And on any other day, he'd have his dick in her hands. But he wanted to do this for the next steps of his fantasy to unfold. He had already corrupted the pious housewife, and by not touching her all week, he could see how she had become a slave to her desires.

"Don't worry, Aunty," he said loudly. "I'll call you when we need your card and ID."

Rita gripped the handled of her trolley bag as tightly as she could while Dave spoke with the poker-faced receptionist. Her walk to the desk was quicker than normal once Dave beckoned her with a smile. "I hope you enjoy our Honeymoon Suite," is all she heard while swiping her card, turning a deep shade of crimson. The seasoned receptionist quickly procured her signature, knowing well that guests of this nature usually took the back exit while leaving in the early hours of the morning.

She hadn't even bothered to read the bill, which included extra charges for a bottle of champagne, a truffle cake, and pre-ordered decorations for the room, such as rose petals strewn all over the bed. Rita was rather embarrassed to make eye-contact with anyone who came in her wake, and only realized what Dave had booked for them when the bellhop handed them a customized gift bag that contained a long satin tie, a box of licorice, and some complimentary flavored condoms.

From the moment the door was shut behind them, Dave took it deliberately slow, allowing Rita to settle in. For someone who had spent most of her life confined to her apartment and tied up to a dull routine, this was certainly a welcome break for her. It was giving her a lot of joy to watch Dave bounce around the room, excited by the richness of the décor and the freebies that came with it, and for a few moments, she actually felt a maternal warmth for him.

The rose petal covered matrimonial bed and the silk bathrobes that lay on top of it brought her back to her lustful reality. Her feet felt heavy, and it was only when Dave returned from his tour of the room the she realized that she was still standing at its entrance. His kiss was warm and familiar, and his groping of her breasts expected, but it was when he slid her purse off her shoulder that she realized that he was in no rush to consume her every charm.

Truth be told, she had gotten so used to the sound of her clothes being ripped apart, to being called names, and to his physical abuse of her body, that she was getting mildly disappointed that he hadn't noticed her erect nipples under her classically printed kaftan; a sight that the entire hotel staff had thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated under their pants.

Or her restless twirling of her tresses or curling of the toes, which he knew very well were tell-tale signs that she was wet and ready to be taken in whichever position he so pleased. In all these months, Rita was still shy and unsure about initiating the intimacy, and Dave knew how to exploit this to the hilt.

She followed his lead, pleasantly surprised by his romantic side, as he walked her to the bathroom. He then went onto turn on the hot water in the tub and filled it up with a potion which instantly led the water to lather up. Rita watched intently as Dave went about checking the temperature of the water and was brought back to Earth when he splashed some on her face.

As she stood there smiling awkwardly, she was happy to see Dave walk over to her, with the erection under his shorts bouncing with each step he took. His fingers were on the top buttons of her kaftan, and before she could throw her arms around him, he said, "I'm stepping out to grab a few things. When I come back, I want you in the tub."

"Why don't you..." were the words that came out softly from her trembling lips, before she found herself pulled forward by his hand under her groin.

"I can, and trust me, I have noticed how much my aunty is leaking right now," he whispered back. "Even the lift-man could smell your musk. Perhaps that's why he pressed all the buttons leading up to our floor, to savor your body with his eyes. And I loved it!" Dave was massaging her crotch and she was moments away from losing her balance.

"But I want to spent tonight enjoying every inch of you. By the time we check out of the hotel in 2019, we'll both struggle to walk. Is that OK with you, Aunty Rita?"

Rita could only nod, not knowing what more to expect from her friends' son, who had turned her apartment into an entrapment of moans over the months past. He kissed her once more and left her in a daze, although she could feel his fingers on her lips till long after.

It was tough for Rita to deal with her nudity, as she was not used to a door-less bathroom with glass walls. She hung her kaftan on the hooks by the large bathroom mirror, and breezed past it without making any eye contact with the reflection of the curvy middle-aged woman, who was leaking like a faucet yet burning like a furnace.

The porcelain bathtub was knee-high and filled with bubbles to its brim. She bent forward to dip her fingers and went only as deep as her wedding ring, to see it disappear under the frothy surface. This almost felt symbolic, where every memory of her once-married life had now been covered by the cloud of lust that engulfed her night and day.

Lost in her thoughts, she felt the lights dim around her. Instead of being startled, Rita thanked the darkness for bringing her confidence back, with only the brightness from the flames of the vanilla candles beyond the tub dancing on the surface of the bubbles.

She felt his manhood pressed against the length of her butt-crack, as he bent forward to kiss her spine. "Aunty, I have a little treat for us," she heard him say, as he brought forth two glasses of champagne.

Rita turned around to face her naked lover, who was waiting for her words of appreciation. "Dave, my dear, thank you for organizing such a wonderful night. But I don't drink. Perhaps, we can do without it?" she implored, hoping he'd relent and settle for her personal drink leaking through her thighs all evening. His upside-down smile quickly changed that expectation.

"Come on, aunty! Let's raise a toast to an eventful year!" Rita knew well that he addressed her as aunty only in two situations - when he was in public with her or when he was very upset with her. This seemed to be the latter. She quickly gripped the delicate glass and tipped it over her lips.

Before Dave could stop her, she was coughing uncontrollably, with tears rolling down her kohl-laced eyes. He quickly took her empty glass and placed it on the marble floor, before embracing her trembling body. "Oh God, Rita! You're supposed to sip it and not gulp it down. You're such a tigress!" he laughed, running his hands down her smooth back.

"You should have warned me!" she said amidst coughs. "My stomach seems to be on fire!"

"Oh baby, your pussy seems to be on fire too!" he said, massaging her slit with his rough fingers. Her coughing had steadied and was now replaced with moans, but the hiccups were something new, and something that Dave found quite adorable.

Dave pulled back and kissed her gently on her lips. "I'm going to pour you one more drink. And this time, don't chug! We'll have it together in the tub. Is that understood?" Rita nodded in agreement. She watched Dave picked up her glass and step out of the bathroom for a few moments, before reappearing with their drinks. He walked right past her and placed the glasses next to a bowl full of fresh strawberries, something she hadn't noticed initially. Before she could naively ask why they had placed fruits in the bathroom, she noticed Dave slide his 6 feet frame into the bathtub. With an outstretched arm, he signaled her to come forward.

Rita walked over to the tub and held onto his hand. "Would you like to join me, Ms. S?" The sight of his erection cutting through the bubbles, as he stroked it leisurely under the surface of the water, made it incredibly difficult for her to turn down his offer. Exercising some caution, she placed one foot between his legs, hoping to get a stable landing on the slipper surface. Before she could lift her heel of the bathroom floor, Rita felt his hand slip out of her grip, as he placed he placed his palms on her buttocks and gently brought her forward.

With one foot in the tub and the other on the floor, she held onto his head as he latched onto her gaping slit, kissing it with a familiar ferocity. She had waited for this moment all week, even fingering herself long and hard in his absence, to ensure that he didn't have to work too hard to get his favorite drink. Her fingers ran through his hair, as his tongue darted as deep as it could, while his teeth chewed on the folds that covered her glory. His hands naughtily kneaded her flesh, as he parted her cheeks to probe her rear hole with any finger of his choice.

Her orgasm was long and loud, well in line with the customs of the suite. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked down at her tormentor, who was holding her glass of champagne between her trembling thighs. His twisted plan to have her squirt into the champagne had worked rather well. It was only fair she returned the favor.

Raising his frame out of the water, he cautiously got out of the tub, covered in froth. It was her turn to get in, and while the water had turned lukewarm, her body certainly needed the support the tub, lest she collapse in a heap. The positions had been reversed, and Rita was skillfully sucking the wind out of his erection. And once he unloaded himself into the glass full of champagne, he rewarded her with a kiss on her forehead.

Hopping into the tub facing her, the two clicked their respective glasses, before gulping down a concoction that neither had tried before. This time Rita didn't choke, as mixed in this fruity beverage were the fluids she had been drinking all year, provided so copiously by Dave.

Sitting on the other end of the bathtub, Dave savored the sight and taste of the woman who had given him unimaginable and insatiable pleasure. He was now in possession of a spare key to her apartment, and most of the ground rules had gone out of the window. His presence at least once during the day was a given. But there were a few nights where she had woken up to her pussy being licked under her quilt by a horny, young intruder. There were also mornings, where he'd walk in on her while she sat on the toilet and would get his manhood serviced between her lips before she could hit the flush handle.

Today was the first occasion where he had brought her outside the confines of her apartment. The evening was off to the start that he wanted, and it was only about to get better.

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December 31st, 11:00 pm

Rita looked delicious as she put on her satin red bathrobe, that covered about half of her generous rear. The lapels were expectedly short, and she just about managed one knot, leaving little to imagination up front. He had been considerate enough, or so she thought, to let her wear a bra, which matched the red pallet of the robe. As she staggered out of the bathroom, under the influence of over half a bottle of champagne, an hour of relentless fingering in the bathtub, and several shattering orgasms, Rita was ready to hit the sack.

Dave let out a whistle as he watched her curvy figure emerge from the dark confines of the bathroom, making no attempt to cover his erection, which stood proudly through the folds of his bathrobe. He could see that the champagne had worked its magic, and that she was now ready for his night long assaults on her hungry holes. The strawberries had worked their desired effect as an aphrodisiac, with some of their remnants around her luscious lips. He could still taste the one that he had dipped between her labia and laced with her juices. This was the only one he had shared with her, finishing it with a tight lip-lock.

The distance between the two was barely a few feet, but it felt like an eternity for her, before she fell right into his embrace. Dave sat right in the middle of the massive bed, used edge to edge by couples in the throes of their passion, as they cover every inch of its benevolent vastness. Cradled in his arms was the woman of his dreams, who was now a distant image of what she once used to be - shy and restrained.

Dave had no trouble opening the knot and parting her gown, as she nibbled lovingly on his chiseled chest. He had chosen this particular bra for her, in fact, with her, during a night of online education about a brand called Victoria's Secret. In fact, once her purchase had finally arrived, it had taken her a few nights to try them on, as the couple could barely keep their hands off each other during every attempted trial. This piece of lingerie was never worn, as Dave had saved it for this night, much to the amusement of Rita.

Ironically, Rita had never quite understood the purpose of these garments, as she had spent all her life wearing clothes that actually concealed the intended areas. The bra that she had put on today was thinner than a piece of tissue, and just about covered her nipples. The underside of her breasts was completed unsupported, and had the other garments not been of similar structure, she would have returned them to the maker with a written complaint.

Dave pulled aside one of her cups and started suckling on the engorged nipple. Rita shuffled her thighs as he removed the other cup too and alternated between the two pellets that stood in attention. With his cheeks next to her lips, she whispered in his ears, "You didn't fuck aunty all week. I feel empty down there!"

Dave bit on the short piece of flesh and looked right into her eyes. "I know you do. Which is why I have a gift for you," he said with a wink, with her nipple still between his teeth.

Rita tightened her grip on his shoulders, as Dave moved his hand away from her heaving breasts and pushed it under the multiple layers of pillows behind him. She suddenly felt something touch her thigh, but was unable to see what it was, with Dave reaching the back of her throat with his tongue. It was when she heard a whirring noise that she understood why Dave had moved his hands away from her breast.

Almost on cue, she parted her legs, as the vibrating piece of plastic slid its way down her wanton canal. She moaned against its chest, as it went deeper than even Dave had ever gone, stretching her little aperture to the hilt. Despite her state of stupor, she knew that this was a new toy, as her pussy was well acquainted to the proportions of her faithful dildo back home.

Dave kept the length and pace of the invasion erratic, torturing the beautiful housewife in a manner that she both resented and enjoyed in equal measure. She was further surprised when he got up from underneath her, gently laying her down on the bed, and placing her hand at the end of the massive dildo. "I'll be back. But I don't want you to stop," is all he said by straddling her chest, while she made an unsuccessful attempt at grabbing his erection between her lips.