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A petite lady, a good head shorter than my six-one, Aunt Jean had a damn good figure on her.
I experienced an abrupt and near overwhelming urge to touch myself. I don't know about you, but I could do with another drink..." She left me sitting there, my head awhirl, emotions shot, my cock slackening. I know I reached out and put the palm of one hand on my aunt's leg, and I definitely heard her let out a low moan. Jean moved in closer and sort of bit the air between us three times.
It was either wank my cock or launch myself at my aunt. It only seemed like Jean was away for a few seconds. My cheeks burned, and for want of a diversion I popped the tab on the beer, swigging a third before wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. It was rock hard inside the constrictions of my jeans. It was like she was opening her mouth to say something, but decided against it. So I sat there with Jean's heavy-lidded stare on my face, my hand on her leg.
The detail of the message isn't important, but when I casually unlatched the gate at the side of the house, the one where the path runs up towards the back garden, I had no clue that I would find my mother's sister face down on a beach towel. "I think you're lovely." My cheeks were really on fire by then. I couldn't believe we were actually having that conversation. "You've got great legs," I croaked, desire flaring hotter inside me as I began to list my aunt's attributes. "Your..." I croaked before pausing to swallow the house brick lodged in my throat. I was absolutely mad horny to fuck the arse of her.
She was lying there on her front, her feet towards me, legs parted so I could see right up to the cleft of her pussy outlined in her bikini briefs. "Your body, Aunt Jean..." My cheeks ballooned as I shook my head, air coming out of me. "Your boobs..." My aunt stared at me for so long I thought I'd offended her. "I knew you had a crush on me, but..." She stared at me for a few more seconds -- an eternity. I wanted her to suck my cock and wank it until I came all over her big tits; I wanted to see her naked, to touch her, to feel her skin and hear her moan.
Decorum prevented me from hauling my erection into view and simply tugging at it until the thing spat a heavy rain of semen over my mother's sister. "Okay," she replied, rolling onto her back, supporting herself on her elbows and forearms. At that moment I was gripped by dark urges so powerful I didn't have the strength to deny them. We stayed like that for half-a-minute or more: two wrestlers between rounds. My aunt drained the glass, threw me a look, and then leaned over to place the empty goblet onto the table.
Imagine the furore if I'd knelt and grabbed two handfuls of those tits, my fingers yanking the cloth aside so I could suck her nipples. I could have groaned with sexual frustration as she lay there looking up at me. "Aunt Jean," I moaned, leaning forward, head in my hands, my life spiralling away.
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I stood transfixed by the sight, my heart a sudden jackhammer inside the rack of my ribs, the organ bouncing around like it was trying to burst free of its cage. All that was going through my head, but all I did was shrug and say, "Well, you know, Aunt Jean." What happened next is a bit vague. It could have been me, but it just as easily might have been her.
It was involuntary, an instinctive response, but as I stood and gawped at my aunt, my cock thickened and grew. We were closing in on each other, our faces on a collision course. "You shouldn't do that," she mumbled, her eyes searching my face while, as before, she did nothing about my fingers touching her.
Carl lusts after his mother's sister, but does he get her? It's one I actually forgot about, and which I only rediscovered after looking through the folder marked up for edits on the laptop. My Aunt Jean looked good in the denim skirt; her fantastic legs made even better because of the cork-soled wedge shoes giving her calves that extra tension.