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Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
PREFACE
You hold in your hands a shocking expose of
incest, domination, and sexual abuse. The fact that
this sordid tale takes place in a small town in middle
America makes it all the more shameful. If the prairies
of our great land have been afflicted with such
perverted behavior, this country is in deep trouble.
The actions that bought Bobby under Pamela's power
in the first place show that the boy has weaknesses
that deserve punishment and correction; but Pamela's
punishment is worse than the original crime, and serves
not to cleanse the boy of the monomaniacal obsession
with sex that started him on the path to ruin, but
instead pushes him even further in the direction of his
weaknesses, resulting in his complete subjugation to
lust and the flesh.
Don't be deceived by the Bobby Short's seeming
willingness to enmesh himself in the filthy web of lust
and degradation woven by his sinful aunt. He isn't
responsible for his actions; not when he has been so
completely brought under her control through her
psychological torture. Our brave fighting men captured
by the North Koreans forty years ago can tell you of
the power of brainwashing. Just as they are innocent
for forsaking their vows and revealing more than their
name, rank, and serial number, so is Bobby innocent of
reveling in the depravities visited upon him by this
evil woman.
Virginia is a both a pitiable and a reprehensible
character. Pitiable in the depths of her sexual
compulsions; and reprehensible in the way she makes
others; her friends at first, and ultimately her own
father, the victims of her lust. Virginia's involvement
with Pamela seems to have a certain justice -- the
controller being controlled, the abuser abused -- but
two terrible wrongs can make no right.
Indeed, almost every character in the story is
ultimately seen to be driven by base, animal emotions.
Yet, on the surface, to outsiders, they appear normal,
even model, citizens. The horror of this novel is that
the scrubbed, shining faces that people turn to the
world can conceal immense depravity, and that this kind
of behavior can occur in the heartland of out great
nation.
As you meet your neighbors on the street, remember
the terrible moral storm that could lie concealed
beneath familiar faces.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 1.
The warm sunshine filtered through the trees that
marched down both sides of the wide street. The shadows
dappled the sidewalk under Bobby's feet. It was only
March; the rains would come again, maybe some more
snow, but today was a taste of summer: almost 70
degrees, with no wind and a soft feeling to the air.
The boy jogged on at an easy pace through the quiet
neighborhood. The bucolic Mid-Western town would seem
idyllic to many, but for Bobby, familiarity had bred
contempt. He wasn't really dissatisfied with his life,
but he viewed Madison as a backwater, a place to come
from once he got himself turned loose on the real
world. He was enthusiastic about one thing right now,
though. Track practice had finished early, and he was
looking forward to being by himself at home. His
parents wouldn't be back until six or so, and his
sister would be at the gym until five. He didn't get
much private time, and he relished it. He'd pull out
his collection of dirty magazines, get his palm all
greased up, and spend a blissful hour or so in
onanistic lust.
Rounding the last corner, he slowed to a walk in
front of his house, then bounded up the stairs to his
front porch. He put his key in the lock, but felt no
friction as he turned it. Somebody home, he thought,
disappointed. He stepped into the cool vestibule,
caught his breath, then walked carefully through the
house looking for signs of life. Gazing out the kitchen
window with a glass of water in his hand, he saw two
girls in bathing suits lying on a towel, braving a day,
although warm for a mid-western March, that wasn't
really up to sunbathing temperature. Bobby recognized
one of the girls as his older sister, Mary Beth. Who' s
the blonde in the pale blue swimsuit? Wait a
minute...she's pushing the hair out of her
eyes...there's her face...oh, yeah, what's her
name...Nancy, that's it... the girl Mary Beth's been
hanging out with for the last couple of weeks. And look
at that -- they've got their bra straps off! I'd like
to run outside and scare Nancy into jumping up; I'll
bet she's got a pair. Nah... Mary Beth'd kill me...
Bobby ambled off towards his room, his cock
stiffening slightly at the thought of catching a
glimpse of the older girl's boobs. Passing the door to
his sister's room, he was distracted by two neat piles
of clothing on her bed. Feeling a little nervous, but
drawn as if by a magnet, he stepped in for a closer
look. A pair of sheer black panties on top of what
appeared to be Nancy's pile first drew his attention.
Looking around, Bobby furtively picked them up. They
were silky and soft. He lifted them to his face and
sniffed at the crotch. Whew! Bobby's head jerked back
as the powerful odor assailed his nostrils. A little
more cautiously, he bent again to inhale. Nancy's musky
secretions made him a little dizzy. And very horny, he
realized as he felt his cock stiffen further in his
jeans, pulling at his pubic hairs as it tried to uncurl
itself. He reached down and fiddled with his crotch
until his cock stretched out along his belly. He
sniffed the panties once more, imagining them cradling
Nancy's downy pubic mound. I wonder what her pussy hair
is like, he thought. She's got that great straight
blonde hair, I bet her cunt hair's the same color. Does
she have big pussy lips? Probably. She's got a heck of
a body, with those big, firm-looking tits...
Bobby put Nancy's panties down where he found
them, and moved over to his sister's pile. Her panties
were white, and silky like Nancy's, but with a cotton
insert in the crotch. His inspection revealed a small
yellow stain near the front of the double-ply part. How
come it's so long and skinny? I bet it got all crammed
up between her pussy lips, and she just oozed her cunt
juice all over it. Let's see what she smells like
today... He bent his head and sniffed at the material.
His sister's scent, familiar to the boy from many
furtive snufflings of the girl's soiled panties, was
milder and fresher than Nancy's.
Moving to the back of the crotch, he found a faint
round trace of brown; eagerly, he put his nose against
it and took a good long sniff. Mary Beth's asshole had
left a sweet, spicy tang there. He thought about
kissing here there; it was a forbidden, nasty image
that drove him wild. Would there be little hairs around
her cute little bottomhole? What color would it be?
Would she wriggle and twist when he tried to put his
tongue inside? Would her asshole be so tight that he'd
have to just lick around the surface, or could he work
is tongue a little way up inside? Bobby shifted his
sister's panties to his left hand, and unbuttoned his
fly with his right. He fished out his cock, and gave it
a few preliminary strokes. He raised the girl's
underwear to his nose, found the yellow part at the
front of the crotch again, and took a deep breath. He
thought of his sister's dark brown pussy hair. He
remembered spying on her when they'd gone camping. She
had a real bush: dark and hairy and dense. He'd have to
push the hair out of the way with his tongue if he ever
got the chance to eat her pussy. Nah, he'd never do it,
but it sure was fun to think of it. His fist began a
slow tempo up and down his tool as he began to breathe
faster. He thought of his sister's dark complexion. She
took after their mother, with her Mediterranean good
looks. Bobby's complexion was more like their father's:
almost-blonde, pink, and Nordic. Mary Beth's real dark,
he thought. I'll bet she's got a dark brown asshole.
I'll bet the whole inside of her asscheeks are brown.
He thought about where her asshole had pressed against
the white cotton lining of the panties, and he returned
to that spot. He imagined putting his nose to his
sister's ass and smelling her puckered bottomhole --
the real thing, hot and twitching and alive, not the
second-hand smell from her underwear. He was getting
very excited.
He set down the white nylon and picked up Nancy's
pants, noticing how the blonde girl's dried secretions
had made the crotch stiff. He sniffed again, relishing
Nancy's stronger smell more, now that he had gotten
used to it. Her odor was sharper, gamier than that of
his sister; it made his nostrils twitch and flare. His
hands moved faster on his cock. He was starting to feel
close to coming, and he looked around for a box of
Kleenex. No, not on the night stand; maybe on the
bureau -- he looked over his shoulder...
...and froze in terror. Standing in the doorway in
their bikinis, with outraged expressions on their
faces, were Mary Beth and Nancy. Bobby had the
immobility of a deer in the headlights as he stood
there before the two girls, his cock in one hand and
Nancy's black underwear in the other. He blushed deeply
enough to send a flush of warmth to his face; he wanted
to sink through the floor. The blonde spoke first.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" she asked
scornfully. Bobby was mute; he wasn't sure he could
talk if he wanted to, and he certainly couldn't think
of anything to say that would get him out of this one.
However, Nancy didn't need an answer. "Go ahead, Bobby,
show us how you sniff my panties." Bobby just stared.
Nancy's voice showed more anger as she continued. "I
mean it, Bobby, put your nose back where it was." The
boy hesitated, then raised the sheer garment to his
face. "Right in the crotch, huh. Going for the gusto,
aren't you, boy? You like the way I smell, Bobby? Am I
ripe enough for you? I got all sweaty today. Take a
good sniff. You can start beating your meat again, too.
Yeah, jerk off for us, Bobby. I bet your sister'd like
to see that." Bobby's hand moved jerkily on his prick.
His embarrassment grew even more acute as he performed
for the girls, but his cock stood stiffly erect. "Look
at me, Bobby. Look at me while you stick your nose in
my panties." Bobby raised his eyes to Nancy's enraged,
mocking face. She watched him coldly as he sniffed the
pungent cloth. His chagrin couldn't overcome his
excitement. His cock twitched and throbbed in his fist
as he stood pinned in the gaze of his pretty blonde
tormentor.
Nancy stole a glance at her friend. Mary Beth
gaped in fascination, her gaze alternating between her
brother's impressive hard-on and his beet-red face. The
dark girl's jaw was slack; her pink tongue emerged to
lick fitfully at her dry lips.
"Just a panty-smeller, aren't you, Bobby?" chanted
Nancy in a sing-song voice. "Just a kid with a nose for
cunt. Pussy drippings. Sweaty assholes. No guts,
though. You don't sniff cunt, just pants. I betcha
don't eat pussy half as well as you sniff panties." The
blonde girl glanced at her friend and caught her gaze
long enough for some kind of communication to flow
between them. "Hell, I betcha you never even ate a
pussy, Bobby. I think you just spend all your time
jerking off over your sister's girlfriend's underwear."
Nancy nodded to Bobby's sister and suddenly pushed
him roughly on his chest. Mary Beth, who had been ready
for something to happen, if unsure of exactly what,
added her weight to the charge, knocking Bobby
backwards onto the bed. Ignoring the clothes that flew
in every direction, the two girls took advantage of
their momentum, and fell on top of the hapless boy.
Nancy sat on his chest facing him, and Mary Beth lay
across his stomach, trapping his cock with her bare
midriff. Bobby struggled, but not too hard; something
told him that this was a battle he didn't want to win.
Nancy's legs were spread, and with every heave of his
chest her pussy slid a little closer to his face. A few
curly hairs snaked out from under the crotch of her
bathing suit.
"You little worm," Nancy taunted as she looked
down on Bobby. "Now we're gonna find out if you can do
anything besides sniff." Nancy wriggled her hips and
her knees slid forward, off Bobby's shoulders and down
onto the bed. She sat down on his face, covering his
mouth and nose with her bikini-covered pussy. "Smell
that, Bobby. Does it smell as good as my pants?" She
bore down harder as Bobby struggled to breathe. "You're
gonna pay for this, Bobby. And I think I know what to
do for starters. Hold him down, Mary Beth."
Bobby was quite a bit bigger than his sister, and
she knew it would be hard to hold him down if he really
tried to escape. In her search for more leverage, Mary
Beth slid higher on Bobby's torso, rolling his cock
against her body and tangling it painfully in the fly
of his jeans. Nancy sprang to the floor. Standing over
Bobby, she reached behind her back and unhooked the
bikini top. She wriggled her upper body and the top
fell to the floor, revealing pale breasts that swayed
from side to side. Her large pink nipples, partially
erect, pointed saucily upwards. She tweaked the fleshy
points while eyeing Bobby. "You like these boobs,
Bobby? Maybe you'd like to suck my nipples? Maybe you'd
like me to rub your cock with them? Well all you can do
is look, Bobby." Nancy dropped her hands to her hips
and hooked her thumbs in the sides of her bikini
bottom. She pressed down until she exposed a inch or so
of medium-brown pubic hair, darker than her blonde
tresses. "But I've got something to keep you busy.
You're going to do more than look at this, Bobby." She
lowered the garment until Bobby could see between her
legs. The smiling girl reached down and rubbed her
pussy with two fingers, then trailed her fragrant hand
across Bobby's face. "You're going to do a whole lot
more."
Nancy impatiently pushed her bikini bottom the
rest of the way down her legs and stepped out of it.
She put one knee on the bed and pivoted around it until
she was kneeling above Bobby's shoulders, but facing
his feet. She sat back on Bobby's face, capturing his
nose between the cheeks of her ass. She squirmed back
and forth until her pink asshole rested on his mouth.
"OK, Bobby," she ordered, "Give me your tongue." Bobby
obediantly licked the puckered rosebud, feeling the
ridges and valleys. Nancy was a little sweaty from
lying in the sun, and some of the sweat had collected
between her cheeks. She tasted salty and sexy. He
pressed harder with his tongue. "That's right, Bobby.
Make your tongue all pointy. Lick up inside my asshole,
you panty-sniffing slime." Bobby felt her sphincter
relax and poked his tongue an inch or so inside her
ring. He lapped at her inner walls, dislodging a tiny
piece of excrement that her careless teenage hygiene
had left in one of her crevices. It floated around in
his mouth as he licked her bottomhole. He couldn't get
rid of it, so, suppressing his disgust, he swallowed
it.
Nancy was enjoying this. She sat down harder on
his face and concentrated on relaxing her sphincter so
he could get up inside her. Every so often she backed
off enough for Bobby to catch his breath, then she sat
back down, enveloping the boy in her flesh. He closed
his eyes, letting her become his whole world: a warm
smooth pressure covering his face, nearly uniform
except for one spot of hollowness over his mouth. He
worked his tongue avidly up into the slippery opening
as the blonde girl bore down.
Turning her attention to other things, Nancy
addressed Mary Beth: "Take down his pants, M. B. Let's
see what we've got here." Mary Beth rolled off Bobby,
unbuttoned his pants, and pulled down on the waistband,
trying to remove his pants and his underwear at the
same time. The underwear caught on his erection, and,
though Mary Beth tugged mightily, she was momentarily
stymied. She reached for his cock, intending to push it
back inside his underwear, but it felt so good that she
was distracted. So big, she thought. So warm, so hard
on the inside and soft on the outside. She hefted it in
her hand, then wrapped her fist around it. Squeezing
gently, she slowly moved her hand up and down. Bobby
groaned even though his mouth was fastened to Nancy's
fundament. Mary Beth remembered her task, and stuffed
Bobby's erection awkwardly back into his briefs, then
pulled both them and his pants to his knees. Without
any conscious guidance from her, her hand returned to
his cock. Nancy watched all this with fascinated
interest. "Jeeze, M. B. Your little brother is hung.
Looka that piece of meat!"
Nancy pulled away from Bobby, shifted her hips,
and lowered herself again. This time she presented
Bobby with her pussy. As he began to lick, she moved
back and forth. "That's right Bobby. You just keep on
licking. You just move your tongue, and I'll feed you
just the part I want." She made him lick her pussy
lips, the place between her vulva and her bottomhole,
then she gradually focused on her clitoris, bearing
down harder as she became more aroused. Mary Beth toyed
with her brother's cock, now stroking it, now rolling
it around in her hands, now touching it in gentle
exploration. A little pre-come appeared at the tip.
Entranced, Mary Beth captured it on the tip of her
finger, then tasted the salty fluid.
Nancy put her hands on Bobby's chest and bounced
up and down as she approached her climax. "Now, you
little worm. You're gonna make me come, you slime. I'm
gonna grease your face. Move that tongue. Lick that
cunt. Now. Now. YES." Bobby felt Nancy's spasms and
licked furiously until she pulled away.
After a minute, Nancy rolled to one side and lay
beside Bobby, but with her head at the other end of the
bed. She looked up a Mary Beth, who was still toying
absently with Bobby's cock. "Hey, Mary Beth, does that
thing turn you on? If I had a brother like this, I
don't know if I could stay outta his pants. Does he
make you hot?" Nancy reached over and put her hand on
the crotch of Mary Beth's bikini. She pushed the thin
material aside and felt her friend's pussy. "You're
drenched, M.B! I think you should go for it. Look at
him, he's not gonna say no now. I wouldn't care if he
did. Who's gonna stop us?"
Mary Beth glanced up at Bobby and saw that it was
true -- she could fuck him now, and he wouldn't resist
at all. Not only that, but there was a look on his face
that told her that he'd be a more-than-willing partner.
Suddenly, the force of the incest taboo seemed to fade
away. She spoke to Nancy: "You know, part of me has
always wanted to fuck him. Well, at least for the last
year or so. Look in his wallet -- I'll bet he's got a
rubber there."
Nancy scooted over and fumbled around in Bobby's
pants, which had worked their way down around his
ankles. She opened his billfold and pulled out a
packet. "Yuck," she exclaimed, "This thing is so old
the foil's cracked." She rolled off the bed and stood
up. "Wait a minute -- I have one in my purse." Nancy
returned, opened the package and handed the condom to
Mary Beth. The darker girl tossed the white disc on
Bobby's belly and gracefully stepped to her feet.
"Well, little brother," she said as she unfastened her
top, "You're finally going to get to see these." She
pulled the cloth away, revealing soft olive orbs. Her
dark-brown nipples were so crinkled in excitement that
they stuck out three-quarters of an inch. She reached
for her bikini bottom, continuing: "And, even better,
you get to see this." She pushed the garment down her
legs and stepped out of it in one motion, then swung
one leg over Bobby and sat on his chest facing him. He
gaped at her open pussy. He could just see the lips
peeking out of the thick mass of dark brown hair. She
looked down at his face. "Take a good look, Bobby." She
scooted forward. "Take a good sniff, too. See how the
real thing compares to my dirty panties. Get used to
it, 'cause I'm going to fuck you with this pussy,
Bobby. I'm going to fuck you good."
She pressed her cunt to his face and ground
against him, then rolled away and knelt by his hips.
She picked up the rubber and rolled it onto Bobby's
cock, then straddled his hips on her knees. She took
his staff daintily between her thumb and forefinger and
moved it back and forth against her clitoris. Her voice
became loving and earnest. "You know, Bobby. I've
always wanted you to be the first." Then suddenly she
shifted to a matter-of-fact tone. "I guess it's a
little late for that." She bore down on him suddenly,
forcing him inside up to the hilt. She put her hands on
his chest and moved her hips in a gentle rocking
motion. She was just getting into a rhythm when Bobby
groaned and bucked his hips up and down.
Mary Beth was outraged: "You asshole! I'm just
getting started, and you're done!" She pulled away and
bent down to examine the condom. Sure enough, the
little nipple on top was full of white fluid. She
peeled back the rubber, stood up and wrapped it in
Kleenex. "Just wait a sec, M.B.," said Nancy in a
soothing tone. "Here's another rubber. I'll get him
hard again real quick."
Nancy knelt on the foot of the bed with her legs
astride Bobby's. She bent forward and licked the semen
from his half-hard cock, turning it in one hand to get
at all the juices. She took it into her mouth and
swished it around with her tongue. Never having really
gotten soft, Bobby's cock returned quickly to
tumescence. Bobby moaned under Nancy's suckings and
lappings. After a few minutes, the blonde girl removed
her mouth and presented Bobby's stiff cock to her
friend proudly, as if she had successfully completed a
school project. Mary Beth put the fresh rubber on
Bobby's prick and straddled him once again.
"Now, this time, Bobby, I want you to show a
little self-control," Mary Beth admonished her brother.
She sank down onto him, engulfing his sensitive penis
in her soft, slick warmth. "I'm going to come first,
you jerk. Do you understand?" She thrust her hips back
and forth. "I'm going to fuck you. You're going to lie
there. You've only got to do one thing, little brother --
you've got to keep that cock stiff. I'll do all the
rest." She pressed her hips backwards and cocked her
pelvis so the base of Bobby's prick pressed against her
clitoris. "You're the meat. I'm the motion. You tighten
those buns and hold your cock up, that's all. I'm the
fucker. You get fucked. Just hold still, little
brother. Hips a little higher. That's good." She put
her hands on his chest for leverage, and moved faster
against him. "Now I'm getting hot. That's the way to
treat your big sister. Just keep pumping blood into
that thick piece of meat, and I'll get off. You like
getting fucked, Bobby? Is this the kind of thing you
thought about when you had your nose buried in my
panties? Maybe you thought you'd get to be a little bit
more active, huh? Well, maybe some other time. Right
now you just lie there and make sure you don't come too
soon." Mary Beth's motions assumed a frantic quality.
"I'm real close now, Bobby, I'm going to come all over
you. I'm going to squeeze you with my hips, and squeeze
you with my cunt, and I'm...I'm...there!"
Mary Beth slowed her movements, then looked at
Bobby and realized he hadn't come. "It's OK, Bobby,"
she said as she moved more energetically, "I'll get you
off." "This is for you, now. You made me happy. Now
I'll do you. Just squirt that stuff into me Bobby.
Here, I'll squeeze you some more." Mary Beth tightened
the muscles lining the walls of her pussy. "You like
that? Makes me even tighter, doesn't it? Come for me,
Bobby. Come for me." Bobby let go, grimacing and
moaning in his release.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 2.
Bobby and Mary Beth spent the next few days avoiding
each other, but they soon made their peace with what
had happened. Much more than that, in Mary Beth's case:
after her initial guilt, she began to look upon Bobby
as a trainable, attractive, and handy lover. It was the
handy part that seemed so great to her. If they were
careful about their parents, they could get it on
whenever she, well, maybe they, felt like it. Would
Bobby go for it though? She thought so; Bobby had
always followed her lead, and she was pretty sure she
could keep it that way. Just to make sure, she decided
that she needed to get him more committed.
Bobby's feeling were more mixed. He had lusted
after his sister for some time, but it was kind of a
safe, distant lust, because he was sure that nothing
would ever actually happen. Now that something had,
that meant that he had to look at the possibility that
it could again, which kind of scared him. On the other
hand, ever since the incident, he thought about it when
he jerked off, and the thing that surprised him was
that most of his thoughts were of his sister. Nancy was
a hot little number, all right, but what you saw was
what you got there. Bobby was fascinated that Mary
Beth's angelic exterior could conceal such a wanton
bitch. He lay low, staying out of his sister's way and
trying to keep from confronting his desire for her.
* * *
Next Saturday, Mary Beth heard Bobby come home just
before midnight. She stuck her head out of her door as
Bobby came down the hall, and saw the bulge in his
pants she'd been hoping for. She beckoned. Bobby
hesitated, then tiptoed through her door. She closed it
behind him, whispering: "What kind of a cruel bitch
would send you home with a boner like that? Did Marcy
leave you all hot and bothered, little brother? Did she
get you all turned on and then cross her legs? Ooh,
look at that hump in your jeans, Bobby. I'll bet it's
uncomfortable all shut in like that. Maybe we should
give it some air."
Mary Beth sat down on her bed and fumbled with
Bobby's fly. Bobby tried half-heartedly to brush away
her hands, but her was really horny and his cock was in
charge of his head. Bobby's sister put her hand into
her brother's pants and searched for the slot in his
underwear. The feel of her eager paw on his equipment
destroyed his last vestige of resistance. Mary Beth
scooped out Bobby's tool and watched as it bobbed up
and down, then she darted her head forward and engulfed
his shaft. Bobby groaned softly as he felt her warm,
wet, softness around his cock. His knees felt a little
rubbery and his heart was pounding in his temples.
Mary Beth looked up at his face and was gratified
to see her brother's eyes almost closed in pleasure.
She moved her head back and forth slowly, sucking on
Bobby's shaft.
As Bobby's breathing became more rapid, so did his
sister's movements. Bobby's hips moved back and forth
involuntarily, and he felt his semen gathering at the
base of his cock. Mary Beth felt the first twitchings
and prepared to swallow as much of her brother's load
as she could. Trying to keep from making noise, Bobby
shot glob after glob of sticky white jism into his big
sister's avid mouth. She swallowed most of it, but when
she pulled back from his softening prick, droplets ran
from both corners of her mouth down to her chin.
She wiped herself with the back of her hand.
"Better get out of here before Mom and Dad catch us,
Bobby," she said as she pushed him in the direction of
the door. Bobby hurriedly stuffed his tool back in his
jeans, and stumbled off in the direction of his room.
Mary Beth turned off the lights, climbed into bed, and
fingered her pussy as she stared into the blackness.
This is gonna work, she thought. After a few minutes,
Mary Beth groaned quietly as her body spasmed in
delight.
* * *
Bobby woke with a start. Late again. He jumped out of
bed, his stiff prick making a conical protrusion in his
pajamas. Why is it always so hard in the morning, he
wondered. Somebody at school had said something about
the full bladder pressing on something and getting you
turned on. Bobby didn't know whether he believed it or
not. In any case, he had a giant hard-on and he had to
pee real bad. He'd just go into the bathroom and take
care of both.
Mary Beth was just coming out of the bathroom as
Bobby came down the hall. She saw his erection and made
a quick decision, holding the door for Bobby, but then
pushing her way into the bathroom behind him and
closing the door with a flick of her hips. Bobby tried
to push her away, but she fondled his cock through his
pajamas as she seduced him in a low, throaty voice.
"Well. little brother, got your morning hard-on? I'll
bet it's all red and angry-looking." She fished his
tool out of the fly of his pajamas. She was right. She
reached to the far side of the counter and scooped up a
little cold cream, which she rubbed into her hands. She
put her soft, slippery palm on her brother's cock and
wrapped her fingers firmly around it. Bobby groaned,
overcome with the pleasure of her touch. She moved her
hand back and forth. "Like that, Bobby? I'll bet you
were going to do this for yourself this morning. This
is better, isn't it. After all, what are big sisters
for if not to take care of their brothers. And I'm sure
gonna take care of you, Bobby. I'm gonna pump that hot
white stuff right out of this big piece of meat. Come
for me, Bobby. Squirt your juice right here in my hand.
That's the way. That's a good little brother."
She cupped one hand over the head of Bobby's cock
and collected his thick jism. She reached behind her
for a Kleenex and wiped her palm. She tossed the tissue
in the wastebasket and was gone. The whole thing
couldn't have taken more than three minutes.
* * *
Bobby and Mary Beth sat silently in the back seat of
his parent's Buick, as all four of them drove home from
one of their Sunday night suppers at the Hendersen's.
Bobby's mother, Connie, had two sisters, one younger
and one older. Ellen, the older one, had married a
burly construction worker named Butch Henderson,
causing a small family scandal. The very look of the
man -- fireplug body, heavily-muscled thighs and
forearms, eighteen-inch neck, marine-style crew cut --
got him off on the wrong foot, and his lack of
education and tough way of talking finished the job.
The revulsion of the relatives was moderated when Butch
became a successful general contractor, and disappeared
entirely when his business prospered to such an extent
that he achieved a financial position that in Madison
qualified as great wealth. Butch had worked on his act
over the years, and no longer drank his beer from the
bottle at the dinner table, but we a rougher cut than
the rest of Bobby's family, who prided themselves on
their education and decorum.
The Hendersons had one daughter, who was a few
months older than Bobby. Ginny took after her mother's
family in looks, but inherited her father's blunt, no-
nonsense temperament. Her dark hair, olive complexion,
oval face and slim figure were saved from blandness by
her slightly bucktoothed smile, which she unconsciously
emphasized by her habit of resting one incisor against
her lower lip. Her eyes had an intent, direct quality
that made some people nervous; if she was feeling sexy,
which was often the case, it felt like she was mentally
undressing you. Ginny's sloppy dress, wise-cracking
style, and somewhat raunchy sense of humor didn't win
her any points with Connie.
The three children had played cards after dinner,
and Ginny sat on the floor with her legs straight and
spread wide as she dealt the cards between her feet.
Bobby sat across from her, his eyes riveted to her
crotch. Ginny's thin, tight shorts conformed to her
pubic mound, and Bobby could easily make out the
outlines of her pussy lips. Ginny noticed Bobby's
attention, and wriggled a bit to give him a show while
Mary Beth did her best to ignore the proceedings. Bobby
thought he saw a tiny bit of dampness at the crotch of
Ginny's shorts toward the end of the game, but decided
that he was probably imagining it.
Now in the darkness of the car, Mary Beth's
fingers began a slow walk along the seat, heading in
Bobby's direction. She kept her eyes on her parents as
she let her hand creep onto Bobby's upper thigh. She
flattened her fingers, and pressed her palm against her
brother's leg, insinuating her hand between his legs.
Bobby's breathing grew shallow as his arousal built
slowly; he was still a little turned on from playing
cards with his cousin, and his sister's warm hand blew
on the coals. Mary Beth's felt her thumb pressing
against something soft. She moved it back and forth and
decided that she was stroking one of Bobby's balls. She
slid her hand over until her fingers cupped his
testicles, then she squeezed gently, feeling Bobby's
hips rise slightly as he pressed against her. Mary Beth
thought about the card game, and she tightened her
fingers on Bobby's balls until she heard a little hiss
as he inhaled sharply. Before he could pull away, she
slid her fingers higher, turning them so she could
grasp his hard prick. Bobby's pants were too tight for
his sister to get her hand around his cock, so she
squeezed it intermittently as she moved her hand up and
down. Bobby sat rigid, loving her touch, feeling
uncomfortable with his sister's being the cause of his
arousal, and mostly feeling scared that one of his
parents would turn around and catch them. He told
himself that it was too dark to see anything, and that
Mary Beth could take her hand away if either of them
moved, but the experience of having his sister pull his
pud while his parents were three feet away made him
acutely nervous.
Mary Beth felt Bobby's muscles tense, and was glad
that he had stopped moving his hips. She wanted to be
the one in control, and having him stiff and immobile
was perfect. She picked up the pace, fanning her hand
up and down her brother's shaft, squeezing it randomly.
She felt his excitement building, but she couldn't tell
exactly how turned on he was because of the dark and
the way he was holding himself so stiffly. It'd be nice
to get him real hot and tease him, she thought, but I
can't hold him right at the edge, so I'll just slow
down a little and work on him until he comes. Bobby
felt his sister's tuggings become less frenetic, and
worried that she might be stopping. She kept on,
though, and slowly took him higher. Inch by inch, Mary
Beth took her brother over the top. He felt the
familiar feeling between is legs and knew that it
wouldn't be long now. His sister patted and squeezed
and pushed and yanked as he pumped out his hot white
semen, soaking his briefs. Mary Beth felt her brother's
squirting and slowed her pace, finally stopping and
pressing her palm against his softening cock. She hoped
his come would make a wet spot on his pants and that
she'd get to see him trying to hide it going into the
house.
* * *
Still breathing hard from his Saturday morning run,
Bobby walked up his driveway. Mary Beth appeared at the
gate to the side yard, and beckoned him to follow her.
Bobby followed his sister into the yard. She held open
the side door to the garage, and they entered. It was
cool and dark inside, filled with the aroma of old
wood, oil, rubber, leather, and gasoline. Mary Beth
turned to her brother and put her arms around him,
pulling him close and grinding her hips against his
pelvis.
She gave him an open-mouthed kiss, then pulled
away to look at this face. "Been working hard, Bobby? I
can tell that; you're all sweaty. I think you deserve a
reward for all your work. Sit up on the fender here,
and I'll give you just what you've earned."
Bobby sat on the right front fender of the family
car, and raised his hips as his sister pulled his
running shorts down to his knees. Mary Beth looked at
Bobby's jock strap. He looked so cute in it. She loved
the way the straps in the back exposed his compact
little ass -- kind of framing it -- and the way the
pouch in front drew all his equipment together in one
tightly bunched bouquet turned her on, too. But why did
they put the label on the outside? Ah well... Mary Beth
pulled the top of his jockstrap down and buried her
nose in his hairy, sweaty maleness. The confines of the
athletic supporter concentrated his gamy essence to a
level that excited her greatly. She licked at the head
of Bobby's cock, then slurped it up into her mouth. Her
cheeks hollowed as she pulled back, and Bobby could see
the outline of the crown of his member against them as
his sister moved up and down on his cock. He started to
move his hips in his excitement, but Mary Beth stopped
him. "Sit still," she said, "you'll scratch the car."
"Just let me so all the work, little brother." She
returned to her task, moving faster and faster until
Bobby filled her mouth. She pulled away, but remained
with her head in her brother's crotch long enough to
spit all his come back against his lower belly. She
pulled the jock strap back into place over Bobby's
fluids, smiled briefly at him, and disappeared through
the garage door.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 3.
Mary Beth sat silently at the dinner table, lost in her
thoughts. She was sure she had Bobby hooked now; he
wasn't even putting up token resistance any more. It
was time for their relationship to enter a new phase,
one that could fulfill Mary Beth's considerable
physical needs, and one that cemented Bobby's
subservient status. She fantasized about what would
come next.
"Mary Beth! Mary Beth!" She heard her father
calling her; it sounded like he was far away. Coming
out of her daydream, she turned to him. She struggled
to find a context. Some part of her must have been
plugged into reality, for, after looking blank for a
second, she picked up the pot roast and handed it to
her dad, mumbling her apology.
* * *
Mary Beth tossed restlessly, for several minutes, then
finally awakened fully. She knew that she'd been
dreaming about sex, but her thoughts were a jumble.
Whatever she had been dreaming about had certainly
affected her pussy. She reached between her legs and
pressed her panties to her pussy with the heel of her
palm. She rubbed her clitoris this way for a few
seconds, then pushed her panties aside and dipped her
fingers into her cunt. She was very wet. She played
with her clit, sliding her middle finger back and
forth, and her thoughts turned to Bobby. She thought of
his young, hard body asleep in his room, just waiting
for her touch to wake him. The fire in her loins grew
more intense as she planned a way to put it out.
Arising silently from her bed, she stripped off her
damp panties and tucked them under her pillow. She
crept into the hallway, and soundlessly turned the knob
on Bobby's door. She glided to his bedside in the cool,
shifting glow of streetlights filtered through trees.
Bobby slept on his back, his deep, regular
breathing plainly audible. Mary Beth bent down and
pulled the covers to the middle of Bobby's thighs,
noting with delight his lack of underwear or pajama
bottoms. His plump penis, already semi-hard, lay
against his belly. Mary Beth knelt on the floor and
leaned across her brother's lean body so she could
nuzzle his cock. She inhaled delicately, enjoying his
night sweat and his musk. Slowly, carefully, she kissed
the tip and slipped her mouth down as far as the base
of the helmet. As Bobby stiffened, she softly sucked
his cock. His breathing became more irregular as he
became rock-hard. Feeling her brother's meat fully
erect in her mouth, Mary Beth settled into a slow in-
and-out movement. Bobby slowly emerged from sleep. As
he broke into consciousness, he became aware of another
presence in the room, and convulsed suddenly on the
bed, tearing himself away from his sister's eager lips.
He sat up and started to say something, but Mary Beth
quickly put her hand over his mouth. She put one arm
around him and stroked his back as she whispered to
him: "Don't be scared, little brother. It's only me.
I've come to make you happy -- very happy, I think.
Just relax."
Bobby's sister slid down his torso, once more
kneeling on the floor as she sought his penis with her
soft, moist lips. She took him inside her warm mouth
and pressed down on him until she felt his manhood
against the back of her throat, then she withdrew, only
to push forward again. She settled into a slow, steady
rhythm as Bobby touched her hair in gentle wonderment.
Mary Beth reached her hand between her legs and found
her clitoris; she ran her middle finger around the oily
little nubbin.
After a while, she pulled away from Bobby's cock
and looked up at him. "Would you like to make your big
sister happy, too? Of course you would." She went back
to sucking his cock, at the same time moving her hips
towards Bobby's head. When her hip rested against the
side of the bed, she raised her knee and pulled herself
up over Bobby. She got her legs tangled up in his arms,
and ended up sitting on his face with both his hands
pinned under her knees. As she lowered her pussy to
Bobby's lips, he lifted his head off the bed and thrust
his tongue deep in her channel. He was rewarded with a
mouthful of his sister's viscous juices, which he
swallowed greedily. Mary Beth pulled off his cock long
enough to tell him what she wanted: "Don't mess around
with preliminaries, Bobby. I'm too hot for that. Just
go for the clit. Tongue me there, hard and fast."
Mary Beth sucked her brother's cock slowly until
she felt the beginning of her orgasm. She paused as the
waves washed over her, then she bobbed her head rapidly
up and down until Bobby filled her mouth with his
sticky, salty goo. She got up almost immediately,
planting a kiss on his mouth before she darted out the
door.
Bobby had a hard time getting back to sleep.
* * *
Bobby struggled up from deep sleep. Mary Beth was
kneeling by the side of his bed, kissing him softly but
thoroughly on the lips. As he woke, he turned his head
toward her and began to respond in kind. The feel of
her soft, slippery tongue and the smell of her hair on
his face excited him and brought him fully awake. Bobby
pushed the covers down toward his feet, and his sister
crawled up on the bed, lying on her side next to him.
She rotated her hips, gently grinding her pubic mound
against his thigh as she stroked his cock, her tongue
becoming more insistent in his mouth. She broke away
and pushed his jockey shorts down to mid-thigh. She
fisted his cock skillfully as she reached under his
pillow for the rubber. "Look what I found," she
murmured, teasing his nipples with the corner of the
foil package.
Fumbling a little, Mary Beth tore open the package
and tossed the foil on the bed. She addressed her
brother's prick as she unrolled the tube over him:
"Well, Mister One-Eye, we're gonna have to cover you
up. You'll still be able to feel pretty good though. In
fact, I think I'm gonna make you feel real good." The
ring reached the base of Bobby's staff. Mary Beth tried
to swing astride her brother, but he was too close to
the edge of the bed and there wasn't enough room for
her outside leg. She left one foot on the floor and
swung her other leg over Bobby, reaching between her
legs for his cock. Holding her brother's tool in one
hand like a wand, Mary Beth pressed the tip to her
clitoris and twisted the shaft in tiny circles.
Delicious sensations spread through her groin; she
wanted to tease herself with Bobby's cock, but she
wanted to feel him deep in her cunt. Reluctantly, she
pressed down on her brother's prick until it rested at
the entrance to her pussy.
Looking down, she resumed her one-sided
conversation with Bobby's prick: "OK, Mister One-Eye,
I'm gonna turn out the lights now. You'll have sweet
dreams, I'm sure." Mary Beth sat down on Bobby,
swallowing his cock to the hilt, grinding her clit
against the hair at the base, and then moving her hips
in circles as she pressed down hard. Bobby dug his
fingers into the sheets as his sister rode him into
ecstasy. Mary Beth leaned forward so her clit would
make better contact, put her hands on her brother's
shoulders for leverage, and picked up the pace. The
crumpled foil worked its way under Bobby and dug into
his back. He tried to ignore it. All too soon, he felt
the ticklish tingle in the head of his cock that meant
that he was very close, and then his orgasm was upon
him. His sister fucked him even faster until she could
no longer feel the twitchings of his cock. She reached
down with one hand and gripped the rubber at the base
of Bobby's cock, squeezing on it as she pulled away.
"You're not done yet, little brother," she said as
she worked her way up the bed, sliding her inside knee
forward, walking with her outside leg, and leaving a
wet trail up his chest. The lights went out for Bobby
as his sister covered his face with her wet, hairy
cunt. He cupped her buns in his hands to steady her,
but she made him put his hands flat on the bed.
Enveloped in her musky sweetness, passive under her
twisting hips, Bobby licked his sister's clit until she
convulsed against him, bruising his upper lip.
Without another word, Mary Beth slipped out of the
room, leaving Bobby wondering what to do with the
rubber on his softening penis. Eventually, he got up
and flushed it down the toilet.
* * *
Out of school for the day, Bobby opened his front door.
He wandered through the house, calling, but heard no
reply. There must be someone home, he thought, or the
front door wouldn't have been unlocked. Standing in the
kitchen, he heard a faint voice through the window, and
went out the side door to check it out.
"Hey Bobby," he heard, "Over here." It sounded
like his sister.
He looked around, but couldn't see anyone.
"Behind the bushes," came the call.
Bobby walked in the direction the sound had come
from. As he rounded the low hedge he saw Mary Beth
stretched out on a towel, sunbathing. She was lying on
her stomach with her head toward him, her bathing suit
wadded up into a pillow. Bobby gaped at her naked body
as she raised her head.
"Hi, little brother," she called. "Isn't this
nice? It's a great day for filling in the white spaces
on my butt. Why don't you come check it out?"
"Huh?" Bobby's wondered if his sister was
deliberately obscure, maybe to keep him off balance."
Her voice changed from its casual tone. "Walk
around behind me," she said slowly and with exaggerated
patience.
Bobby stood with his feet at the foot of the
towel.
"Now kneel down on the ground."
Bobby knelt with his hands on his knees and
watched as his sister spread her legs so that her
ankles were about two feet apart.
"Now lean forward."
Mary Beth's brother walked forward on his hands
until they came to the insides of her knees.
"Keep going."
Bobby moved his hands to the outside of his
sister's legs and walked forward until he was poised as
if he were about to do a girl's pushup: his knees on
the grass, his body and arms straight. He looked down
at his sister's fanny. It was a good deal whiter than
the rest of her body; he liked the way the crack of her
ass started right where the skin changed color.
"You know what to do now Bobby?"
"Um, no, Sis..."
"You can kiss my ass!" Mary Beth used a drill
sergeant's voice, but a giggle escaped, ruining the
overall impression.
Bobby lowered himself between his sister's legs,
and rested his cheek on one of hers. Her skin was
delightfully warm, and the sunshine had infused it with
the smell of the outdoors. He rolled his head until he
was face-down in his sister's warm, soft pillows, and
gave her a series of closed-mouth kisses. He roamed all
over her sweet, spongy behind, kissing, licking and
smelling. Mary Beth's ass was damp with perspiration,
and when Bobby slipped his tongue into the top of her
crack, he noticed that she was wet and salty there. He
continued to rove back and forth over her cheeks,
pausing more and more often at the top of her cleft,
and sliding his tongue further down it. As he moved
down, he licked up the sweat that had collected between
her spongy buns. Mary Beth gave a little moan, and
moved her knees slightly forward so her hips came up
off the towel. Now Bobby moved from side to side,
slowly descending. Soon, he could smell his sister's
asshole as he passed back and forth over it; her scent
was earthy, dark, and pungent. He nibbled at the bottom
of his sister's cheeks, then moved inward and licked at
some of the salty black hairs growing inside them.
Mary Beth shifted from side to side impatiently.
"The asshole, Bobby," she insisted. "Smell my brown
asshole, little brother. Take a good whiff."
Bobby pressed his nose between his sister's spongy
cheeks and sniffed at her nether hole. Up closer her
scent was raw, sour, and penetrating. He breathed
deeply, then slid his nose up and down over his
sister's sweaty bottomhole, catching the tip of it on
her slick, spongy sphincter, especially on the down
strokes. When his nose snagged against her puckered
ring, Mary Beth jerked back suddenly and drove Bobby's
schnoz into her greasy channel.
"That's good, Bobby," she said. "Get your nose
full of me. Press harder -- I want your nose up my
butt." The boy did his best, driving his face forward
until his nose was deeply embedded. "Oh, good, Bobby --
I like that. I want to squeeze down on it..." Bobby
felt his nose being compressed, and his sister squished
him out by contracting her sphincter. "Is that a good
game? Now push down again..." Bobby slipped in easier
this time. "That's right. Harder, though." He pressed
his cheeks to hers. "Wiggle it back and forth." Bobby
shook his head from side to side. His nose popped out,
but slid back into his sister's sweaty asshole each
time his head faced forward. He paused and pressed
harder. "You like my asshole wrapped around your nose?
I know I do. Now back off a minute. Hold your nose
right over my shit hole." Mary Beth was up on her knees
now, having worked into the position trying to get more
leverage to push back against her brother. Her tight
little bud was loosening in response to Bobby's
penetration: he caught a glimpse of pinker skin inside
as he pulled his nose out. "Take a deep breath." The
boy breathed deeply of his sister's spicy aroma. "Do I
smell good? Smells nasty, doesn't it? You love it,
though. You love sniffing your big sister's butt."
She paused, ready for the next step. "That's good.
Now I want your tongue."
Bobby's opened his lips and his gave his sister's
bunghole an experimental lick. His velvety tongue felt
so good to Mary Beth that she drove her hips back,
pushing her ring against Bobby's mouth. He lapped at
the furrows and fissures of his sister's bottomhole,
trying to get his tongue in as far as he could. Mary
Beth, overcome with the delicious sensation, squealed
like a pig.
Bobby licked her for a long time. Several times he
stopped, but his sister made him stick his tongue back
in her asshole. She dropped her shoulders to the ground
and pressed back harder in her efforts to get her
brother's tongue deeper into her butt.
The feeling in her ass was wonderful, but Mary
Beth's growing excitement made her crave an orgasm. She
knew just how to make that happen: "OK Bobby. That was
good. Now lick my clit. You've got it all hard, now
whip it with your tongue."
Bobby, complied, sliding his lips down across his
sister's dripping pussy and lashing back and forth at
his her button. His nose buried itself deep in her
cunt, and he had to tilt his head back in order to
breathe. Soon he felt Mary Beth's clit start to
withdraw, and he lapped at her until her hips shuddered
and she collapsed onto the towel.
After a few minutes, Mary Beth rolled over. Her
face was damp and tendrils of black hair hung in her
eyes. "Oh Bobby," she said with a trifle too much
enthusiasm, "You're a great ass licker." He wasn't sure
that was a compliment.
"And now for you," purred Bobby's sister as she
reached for the suntan oil. "Take your pants down and
lie on your back."
Bobby lay with his pants around his knees. Mary
Beth pulled his shirt up until his nipples showed. She
poured a generous helping of oil into her hand, and
reached for Bobby's stiff cock. Fisting it in both
hands, she jerked her brother off. It wasn't long
before he groaned and shot his spunk into the air. Mary
Beth put one hand over her brother's prick, catching
his juices as she pumped him with her other hand. When
nothing more came out of his cock, took a few more
strokes just because she knew he was sensitive then,
then she stopped and wiped her hand on her brother's
belly. She got off the towel so he could use a corner
to clean himself off.
* * *
Hump Day, thought Mary Beth as she fiddled with her
homework. Two more days until the weekend, a big
Chemistry test on Friday, and I'm horny again. It must
be my period; I don't know why the times when I'm the
messiest are the times when I need it the most. She
heard her mother bustling about the kitchen. "I'm going
out for groceries," she called up the hall. The front
door slammed.
Mary Beth did an inventory. Dad's bowling, and Mom
will be at least half an hour. Bobby's supposed to be
studying. She pushed her papers into a pile and walked
into Bobby's room.
"How goes it, bro'," asked Mary Beth as she leaned
against the door jamb.
Bobby raised his head and pushed his chair back
from his desk. "I dunno, Sis," he answered. "I think
I've got tomorrow taken care of, but Friday's gonna be
a killer." He stood up and walked over to his sister.
"And to top it all off," he said, placing his hands on
her tee shirt over her breasts, "I'm so horny I can't
see straight."
"Isn't that a coincidence," Mary Beth said as she
took her brother's hand and led him in the direction of
the bathroom. She flipped the cover over the toilet and
sat down, beckoning Bobby over. He stood in front of
her, and she grasped his cock roughly through his jeans
and kneaded it. "You certainly are horny, little
brother," she growled sexily. "This telephone pole you
got here is a real pussy-stretcher."
Mary Beth undid her brother's fly and fished his
staff out, bending it awkwardly to fit it through the
opening. She leaned forward and darted her tongue
around the head. "It's big tonight, Bobby," she purred.
"I don't know if I'll be able to get my tiny little
mouth around it." She wasn't worried, but she knew what
a turn-on it was for guys to hear about the immensity
of their dick. She laid it on thicker: "Oh Bobby, your
big prick is gonna stretch my baby lips. You're gonna
gag me with that big thing. I'm gonna suck you though.
You want to watch me, Bobby? You want to watch your big
prick sliding between your sister's lips? Want to see
how far down I can leave my lipstick?"
Bobby's sister pressed her lips to the head of his
cock, slowly separating them to admit half the helmet.
She paused and gazed up at his face, looking angelic
from the nose up. Her expression contrasted sharply
with the lascivious way she sucked her brother's cock;
the effect was not lost on Bobby, who stared into Mary
Beth's eyes to get the full effect. She slowly engulfed
his prick, her hot, slippery, velvety wetness feeling
even better than Bobby's anticipations. She bobbed back
and forth, pausing several times with her lips on the
tip, the same innocent look in her eyes, and her tongue
swirling around the slit of her brother's cock.
Mary Beth moved one hand from Bobby's hip to the
base of his prick. Circling him firmly, she jerked him
off while she moved her head rapidly in short strokes.
Bobby could take no more; he shot several streams into
his sister's eager mouth, most of his come going down
her throat, but some escaping from the corners of her
lips. After he finished, she withdrew, looking up at
him while she scooped up the semen on her chin with an
index finger, and licking it off.
"Now it's my turn," Mary Beth said as she stood
up, forcing her brother backwards and almost sending
him head-over-heels into the bathtub. She reached
behind her and flipped up the cover on the toilet, then
pulled her pants and panties to her ankles. Sitting
back down on the toilet seat, she pointed to the floor
in front of her. "Kneel down, little brother," she
urged. Bobby obliged, looking somewhat confused about
the deal with the toilet seat. "Now lick me," Mary Beth
ordered. "Lick your big sister's pussy until she comes
all over your face. Lick me until I quiver like jello."
Bobby didn't like the idea of putting his head in
the toilet bowl, but her leaned forward. As he did so,
he spotted a sanitary napkin stuck to the inside of his
sister's panties. A long narrow brownish-red stain
marred the pure white surface.
"You're having your period," Bobby blurted in
protest.
"It's just blood, Bobby. It won't hurt you." Her
voice held no sympathy at all.
Bobby bent forward until he was almost to his
sister's cunt, then balked, looking up at her again.
"Go ahead, Bobby," Mary Beth urged, her voice
growing harder. "You can do it."
She pushed down on his head, and he suddenly
relented, obediently beginning to tongue his big
sister's clit. He tried to keep from licking her
further down, but she kept her hand on his head and
bucked up against him, smearing his lips with her
discharge. As Bobby's tongue caressed her clit, his
sister got more turned on and oozed clear slick pussy
juice, which flushed the blood out of her; the mixture
dripped into the toilet bowl, forming pink swirls and
tendrils. Mary Beth's breathing became ragged as she
climbed higher. Driven by a sudden desire to see her
blood on her brother's face, she lifted her ass off the
seat and, holding his head down, slid her pussy up and
rubbed his nose in her dripping cunt. She wiggled from
side to side, then eased herself down again, gratified
to see her red and pink stains on Bobby's nose and
cheeks. The sight was unexpectedly arousing to her and
she began to whine as she approached her climax. Bobby,
his misgivings worn down by his sister's persistence,
lapped eagerly at his sister's nubbin until she was
exhausted.
Mary Beth wiped herself with toilet paper,
flushing the toilet as she stood up. She pulled up her
pants and washed her hands. "You better get your face
cleaned up, little brother," she said as she walked out
the door. "You look like you lost a knife fight."
* * *
Ginny turned off the shower, stepped out on the mat,
and ran the fluffy towel over her body. Catching a
glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, she tossed
the towel on the counter and looked critically at her
body. Not bad, she thought, at least the guys seem to
dig it. She cupped her breasts in her hands, twisting
the olive nipples into erection. 34-B. They sure seemed
big when I was fourteen, but they're just ordinary now.
Still, I'm glad I'm not one of those cows. The slender
brunette ran her hands over her flat stomach, and
fluffed up her dark-brown pussy hair. God, there's a
lot of it. It's always sticking out the crotch of my
swimsuit, and I for sure can't get the kind with the
high-cut legs, but I'll be damned if I'll get one of
those wax jobs. Some of the boys think a lot of hair is
sexy. Guess I do to, at least on guys. She turned
around and looked over her shoulder at her ass. Too
small? Too much like a guy's? Maybe not, guy's cheeks
don't curve over like that. It must look pretty good to
the boys; they sure like to touch it. And taste it,
too, she thought, remembering the night before when she
had made Bill lie on his back while she slowly lowered
her brown asshole onto his mouth and forced him to lick
her for half an hour.
* * *
Trying to be quiet, Ginny rummaged through the hamper
in the bathroom, looking for a pair of her mother's
sexy panties. Her hand encountered something soft and
silky, and she pulled it out and held it up for
inspection. Yeah, that's right -- thin white material
you can kinda see through, lace above the crotch, cut
low on the sides, that's better than my plain, boring
cotton ones. Why won't Mom let me have sexy panties?
Mary Beth has some real nice panties. Probably nothing
as hot as these. Too bad I can't get clean ones, but I
might wake up Mom if I went in her bedroom. How dirty
are they? The teenager raised her mother's soiled
panties to her face and sniffed the crotch tentatively.
Jeeze, that's strong. Mine don't smell that way, even
if I wear them two days. Kinda sexy though... I guess
I'll wear them...
The slim brunette silently opened the bathroom
door and tiptoed back to her room. She stood before the
mirror, shook out her mother's panties, and started to
put them on. Something stopped her, and she stood
poised with the underwear in her hands and one foot
just off the floor. Ginny set her foot down, cupped her
palm under the crotch of the lacy undergarment, and
brought it to her face. Underneath her mother's strong
musky smell, there was something sweet and herbal. It's
perfume, the girl thought. Mom puts perfume on her pussy!
The thought excited the teenager. She imagined
her mother in the bathroom, touching her forefinger to
the perfume bottle as she stood by the toilet, raising
one foot and putting it on the seat, and reaching
between her legs to transfer the scent to a few
carefully chosen places. Who's it for? the girl
wondered. Does Mom have a lover? She shook her head.
It's for Dad. Tough old Dad. I wonder just how tough...
Suddenly the teenager imagined a scene so real that the
room blanked out for her.
Her father lies naked on his back on his bed, his
head just over the edge in a way that forces his
neck back and makes his Adam's apple stand out. His
hands grip the sheets, and he stares back at Ginny's
mother, who stands several feet away, her feet a
foot apart and her arms crossed over her breasts,
wearing only the lacy panties. His enormous erection
twitches as he lies motionless. Ellen walks slowly
forward until her knees touch the bed on either side
of Butch's head. She puts first one knee, then the
other on the bed, and kneels above the man, who
stares up at her. Leaning forward for balance, she
squats down on his face, pressing the silky cloth
covering her very smelly, lightly perfumed cunt to
his mouth and nose. He starts to put out his tongue,
but she stops him with a harsh, "No," and sits on
his face for a long time, rubbing herself languidly
back and forth. His every breath is full of her
musky essence, and she gradually shifts all her
weight to her hips and tightens her thighs around
his head, drowning her husband beneath her warm
strong cunt...
Ginny's head swam as she returned to reality, only
to be lost again as another powerful fantasy filled her
head.
Butch is naked. He lies spread-eagled on the bed,
his hands and feet tied to the corners with
stockings. Ellen, wearing only the panties, dances
sexily for him, bumping and grinding and touching
her breasts. She slowly slides the panties off,
holds them by the waistband, and dangles them over
the horny, tied-up man. She teases him, lowering the
silky garment until it just grazes his skin, and
running it up and down all over his body, pausing
for a long time at his crotch. His cock drools pre-
come. She drags her panties over his prick to sop it
up. More takes its place. She torments and tickles
him until he writhes on the bed, pleading for her to
stop. She ignores him. Finally, after he has given
up, she dangles the panties over his face, then
drops them on his mouth. Arranging the underwear so
the crotch lies over his lips, Ellen pokes part into
his mouth with her forefinger. Working with just one
finger and gazing into his eyes with a look of
innocent idle amusement, she stuffs the panties in
his mouth with painful slowness. Then she squats
over his hips and swallows his rod inside her wet
pussy. The creak of bedsprings and a almost-
inaudible squishing continue a long time, finally
being drowned out by her screams as she comes...
Ginny came to, still holding her mother's panties
to her nose. She reached down and touched her pussy.
Her finger came away glistening. It's so embarrassing
sometimes, she thought, I get so wet when I get turned
on. I don't know how many times I've come home from
dates with my panties soaked clear through. And if I'm
at the beach and I start thinking about getting it on
with one of the lifeguards or something, I have to keep
my legs together and go jump in the water or sombody'll
think I wet my pants. And then there was that time at
the dance... Oh yeah, that was hot. Dancing slow and
close with that hunk Jeff, working our way back where
it was dark, soul-kissing, and pressing my pussy
against him through my dress, feeling my pants get
damp, then wet, then I felt the drops start to dribble
down my leg. It felt good, we were both sweating up a
storm anyway -- a little more juice didn't seem to
matter. But afterwards, the insides of my thighs were
all sticky, and when Jeff put his hand up under my
skirt, he looked at me real funny. It kinda seemed to
turn him on, though... Well, tonight the whole plan is
to get wet, and the wetter the better as far as I'm
concerned. Let's get this show on the road.
The slim teenager stepped into her mother's
panties. She looked at herself in the mirror on her
closet door. Ginny was bigger than her mother, but her
hips were slimmer, and the panties sagged a little in
the front, though they cupped her high pubic mound with
delightful snugness. The pants just barely covered her
dark bush, which was clearly visible through the
diaphanous material. Ginny put her hands behind her
head and practiced pouting for a minute, then, looked
at the clock and quickly finished dressing.
Time to go, Ginny thought as she flicked out the
light and walked to the window, aided by the moonlight
pouring through it. She balanced on the window sill,
propping herself up with her hands so she wouldn't get
her white jeans dirty. With an awkward flounce, she
launched herself away from the house, twisting a half
turn and hanging onto the sill for balance as she
landed in the shrubbery. The ground was soft and moist
under her feet, and she could feel a few clods stuck to
her shoes as she ran across the yard and hid behind the
garage. She scuffed her feet against the grass and
slapped the at the seat of her pants. Dodging the
bright pools formed by the streetlights, the slim
figure zig-zagged her way across the street and set off
with a determined gait.
Two blocks away, an old Ford convertible idled at
the curb, its powerful, V8 turning over raggedly and
burbling through barely-legal glasspacks. A pair of
tough-looking teenagers sat on the backs of the front
seats smoking and watching the street behind the car.
The driver sneered at his friend, "She's late.
I'll bet she ain't coming. I told ya she was a prick-
tease. Makes all kinda promises and then don't show up.
Probably give us some kinda line tomorrow about why she
didn't come."
Ginny turned the corner about half a block away,
and was lit brilliantly by the streetlight. The kid on
the passenger seat hit his friend playfully on the
upper arm, and whispered, "See Jack, I told you she'd
come."
"I never said she wasn't," the driver said
defensively. "I just said she was late."
Ginny rolled her hips as she sauntered with
exaggerated casualness towards the car. "Hey, kid,"
said Jack in his best James Dean, his cigarette
bouncing up and down as he talked and his head tilted
back to keep the smoke out of his eyes.
"Hi, guys," said Ginny with as much excitement as
if she'd run into them by accident in the school
cafeteria. She reached up and rumpled the hair of the
kid on the passenger side. "How ya doing, Johnny?" she
asked with a sexy lilt to her voice.
Johnny smiled in greeting, slid down the seat back
and opened the door. No one spoke as Ginny rolled
across the boy and plunked herself down in the middle
of the front seat. Jack dropped into position, put the
car in gear and pulled out with a liquid rumble.
Johnny put his right hand on Ginny's knee and slid
his palm up the inside of her right thigh until he
cupped her pubic mound. She slapped his arm, then
grabbed his wrist and pulled upwards. "Let's get
something straight, guys," she said in a harsh tone.
"You're gonna have a real good time tonight -- so good
a time you're gonna pinch yourselves in the morning --
but only if you do things my way. You understand?"
The boys muttered affirmatively.
Ginny continued, "If you're real good, you're
gonna like what happens." She felt for Johnny's crotch
with her right hand. "Keep your hands by your sides,
Johnny," she warned as she cupped her hand over his
equipment and pressed against him. The heat of her palm
excited the youngster as much as the pressure and he
began to stiffen. Ginny smiled to herself, thinking:
This is going to work out all right. Two of them, and
they're bigger, but I'm smarter, and I know what I
want. I just have to keep 'em happy, keep 'em off-
balance, and stay one step ahead of them. Maybe I can
even make their macho attitude help me. Jack'll be
harder to handle, so I'll get Johnny to do things
first. After Johnny caves in, Jack'll follow, no sweat.
She moved her hand up and down over Johnny's jeans
until she felt his full erection, then she reached over
with her other hand and unbuttoned his fly. Johnny
sucked in his breath as Ginny snaked both hands into
his underwear. Her fingers flew around like moths,
touching him lightly in intimate places before they
urged his member out of his underwear and pulled his
dick up straight. "Now isn't this nice?" Ginny asked as
she glided her right hand lightly up and down the
length of Johnny's cock, gripping him just hard enough
so her hand didn't slip and savoring the way the soft
supple skin slipped effortlessly over the rock-hard
core. Johnny just swallowed hard. Ginny wondered how
his cock would feel in her mouth.
The lights at the roadside became less frequent as
the trio headed out of town. With her left hand, Ginny
started to touch Jack's dick through his pants. Having
observed the scene with Johnny, Jack was hard even
before the girl made her move. She dug her fingers into
the boy's pants, pushing his cock back and forth until
she had it lined up the way she wanted it. "I'll be
back, Johnny," said Ginny as she forsook his cock so
she could have both hands for his friend. Soon Jack,
too, sat with his tool poking up into the night air,
being masturbated lightly by his teenaged companion.
Ginny returned her right hand to Johnny's lap. With a
cock in each fist, she made up inventive rhythms as the
three drove into the countryside. She tried jacking
them off in unison, then pushed down on one as she
pulled up on the other, then experimented with two
strokes on each side. Ginny like the weirdness of the
scene -- the highway, the moonlight, the smell of the
fields in the warm air, the rumble of the car together
with a cock in each hand and the boys in her power.
"Like it so far?" she cooed. The boys just mumbled, but
Johnny's fists tightened as he pushed them into the
seat, and Jack's driving grew somewhat erratic.
Jack spotted the turn, slowed, and bumped off down
a gravel road to the left. The headlights illuminated a
thick forest on both sides of the rutted track. The
road twisted around and stopped abruptly. Jack turned
the car around and killed the engine. A sudden silence
washed over them, broken by crickets.
"Let's get out and look at the creek," Ginny said
in a shift of mood. "Leave your dicks out, though. I
like you guys that way."
The three spilled out of the car and walked over
to the creek bank. Without the shade of the trees near
the car, the three-quarter moon clearly illuminated the
boys' equipment; Ginny liked the way their pricks
glowed white in the pale light and bobbed up and down
as they walked. The two guys felt awkward and exposed.
There was nobody else around, but it still felt strange
to be walking around like that. But that's what Ginny
wanted, she was one hot chick, they sure were horny,
and if this would get them laid, hey, no problem, man.
After studying the creek and listening to the
water for a minute or so, Ginny asked, "You guys got a
blanket?"
"Sure, Gin, there's one in the trunk," answered
Jack.
"Run back and get it."
Soon Jack returned with the blanket, holding it in
front of his waist in instinctive protection against
Ginny's inspection of his tool.
"That's good, Jackie. Spread it out on the creek
bank. No, over here where it's flatter." Johnny
stumbled out of the way as Jack complied.
"That's nice," encouraged Ginny. "Now get
undressed," she continued, letting an edge creep into
her voice.
"Just us?" complained Johnny.
Ginny placated him: "I'll get naked, too, but you
go first. You guys can watch me undress. It'll be real
sexy."
The boys pulled off their clothes, piled them on
the ground, and stood looking expectantly at Ginny, who
watched with her arms crossed. Their bodies glowed in
the moonlight.
"Now lie down on the blanket," urged the teenaged
girl. "No, the other way -- put your heads down here."
"That's downhill," protested Jack.
"That's all right, it's not steep. Besides, I
can't do my show unless you can see this flat spot."
"I guess," said Jack as he lay on his back and
propped his head up with his hands so he could see
Ginny. Johnny lay down next to him.
Ginny put her hands behind her head and rotated
her pelvis slowly, the white jeans standing out clearly
in the dim blue light. "You want this pussy?" she
taunted as she spread her legs and pumped her hips back
and forth. "You like my tits?" She shimmied her upper
body and her breasts swayed, then she unbuttoned her
blouse slowly, pulling out the tail and spinning around
so the garment flew outwards. She pulled it open to
expose her white brassiere. "Nice, huh?" she cooed
flirtatiously. The young brunette slipped easily out of
the shirt, and tossed it to Jack, who held it for a
minute, smelling her perfume and her body. Ginny
slipped the straps of her bra down her arms, and walked
over to the blanket, her full breasts bobbing as she
swung her hips.
She stood just off the blanket, near Johnny's
shoulders. "Hold up your hand, lover," she asked.
Johnny raised his arm, and Ginny grabbed it for balance
as she took off her shoes and socks, stepping onto the
blanket as she did, so she wouldn't get her feet dirty.
Johnny held up his other arm, and Ginny supported
herself on it as she skinned off her jeans and tossed
them on top of one of the piles of clothes. She spread
her legs and swished her hips to show off her mom's
lacy white bikini panties.
Still holding Johnny's hand, she picked up one
foot and set it gently down on his chest. Ginny trailed
her toes lightly up and down the boy's stomach, then,
hopping as she turned, she pressed the ball of her foot
to his lips. The young boy's mouth was slack, and she
toyed with him, slipping her toes between his teeth and
over his gums. Growing bored with that, Ginny twisted
towards Johnny's feet and teased his prick with her
foot. She wriggled her toes against his balls, then
moved upwards and stepped lightly and quickly on his
cock, dribbling it like a basketball as it lay against
his belly. As it rose to a vertical position, the
teenager switched tactics and batted it back and forth
like a punching bag. Johnny groaned. If she kept this
up much longer, she was going to make him come, and
that would be embarrassing. He bit his lip as he tried
to control himself. Ginny noticed the signs, and backed
off. It would be fun to see Johnny squirt all over his
own stomach, but he wasn't fully under her control yet,
and he might react badly afterwards. Another time,
Ginny thought as she gave the muscular boy's cock a
final kick.
The slim teenager straddled Johnny's head facing
his feet. She slowly lowered herself to a kneeling
position with her knees pressing the boy's arms against
his sides. "Come over here," she said to Jack, and the
other boy worked his way over until he lay right next
to his friend. "Move your hips down towards me," she
instructed, and Jack moved up about six inches. Ginny
leaned forward and to one side, so her mouth was over
Jack's cock. She touched his staff with her hand and
guided it towards her mouth. "Now it gets real good,"
she purred as she licked the tip. Ginny lowered her
hips until she could feel Johnny's hot breath between
her legs, then she sat back on the boy, pressing her
sweet young pussy to his lips through her mother's
soiled panties.
Johnny knew what was coming, but he was still
taken aback to find himself so suddenly surrounded by
warm soft flesh and silky fabric. The strong smell of
Ginny's crotch filled his nostrils. He didn't know that
the aroma was partly Ginny's tangy young pussy and
partly her mother's darker, richer smells; he just knew
it smelled real sexy, especially as turned on as he was
from what Ginny had been doing to him with her foot.
When Ginny pressed down on the boy, her juices started
to ooze out of her pussy and soak through the thin
material. Johnny slipped out his tongue and licked the
sexy teenager's crotch as she began to undulate against
his face.
Ginny smiled to herself as she felt Johnny's warm
wet tongue against her sensitive flesh. Even through
the panties he felt good. He didn't seem to have a real
clear idea of her geography, but she was sure that he
could learn, given proper instruction. She slithered
her lips up and down Jack's erect penis, pausing when
the head touched the back of her throat, then repeating
the motion. Sometimes she slipped just the head in her
mouth and sucked on it while she swished her tongue
around. Jack made a strangled sound in the back of his
throat, and Ginny figured that she was on the right
track. She cocked her hips and slid them back further
so Johnny would be more likely to find her clitoris in
his seemingly random tonguing. He accidentally licked
her slippery nubbin, and she moaned, hoping he'd get
the message that he'd found the spot.
She reached for Jack's balls and cupped them in
her hand as she moved her head faster. Ginny was ready
for something else, but she figured that the boys would
be easier to control once they had a little less semen
on board. Jack groaned as the slim brunette pressed his
sack and sucked his dick. He knew he couldn't last much
longer. Before long, Ginny felt the first spasm. She
took one squirt in her mouth, then pulled away and
fisted Jack's prick rapidly as he shot his load on his
belly, his face, and into his hair.
Ginny rolled off of Johnny and lay on Jack's chest
while she curled up and peeled her mother's panties
off. She rolled back the other way and managed to get
to her knees again, this time astride Jack at waist
level. "Scooch up here," she said as she reached
between her legs and tugged on his shoulders. "And
Johnny, you come towards me."
Jack soon found the teen's wet pussy against his
mouth. He lapped avidly, delving into her hot channel
and coating his tongue with her thick cream. Ginny sat
down hard on his face, making it easier for him to
reach deep inside her, but harder for him to breathe.
He concentrated on the licking -- he could breathe
anytime. The hot young girl sat up even further and
rested almost all her weight on the boy's face for a
few moments, reveling in the feeling of control, then
she rolled her hips forward and shifted her weight to
her knees and elbows. The movement brought her clitoris
in contact with his tongue, but he soon wandered off
lower down her crotch. She knew it was time for a
lesson.
"Higher, Jack," she prompted. Jack, confused by
her instructions, went the wrong way. "Not that way,"
she instructed, "Higher on my body -- toward my
bellybutton." Jack backtracked and approached the
target. "A little to the right... a little lower...
There! Feel that little bump?"
"Umph," Jack mumbled affirmatively.
"Lick it," she ordered.
Jack obeyed with altogether too much enthusiasm.
"Not so hard," the pretty teenager said harshly,
"Lick it slow and gentle, but don't stop until I tell
you to."
Jack managed to moderate his eagerness, and began
to tongue the slippery pearl with something approaching
delicacy. Ginny gave a little moan to encourage him,
following it with a series of guttural noises that were
much less voluntary as the young boy's tongue excited
her and spurred her onwards. Growing more confident,
Jack stiffened his tongue and moved it in slow circles
around the base of Ginny's clit, barely noticing the
cold from the pool of come covering his chest.
Johnny didn't have to wait long to become a
participant; the girl leaned forward and swallowed his
stiff prick deep into her hot mouth in one motion,
forcing a gasp from his lips. She moved her head up and
down rapidly, then stopped for a moment to lick her
middle finger. That's not gonna be enough, she thought,
and she reached behind her back and slipped her finger
up her slippery pussy, twisting it around and gathering
up as much juice as she could. Jack could tell
something was happening, but he couldn't figure out
what.
As Ginny sucked Johnny's slim cock she probed
between his legs with her hand, tucking her slippery
middle finger into her palm until she got her bearings.
Feeling under his balls, she found the cleavage between
his tight, muscular buns and ran her index finger up
and down it. As Johnny started to pant, Ginny suddenly
rammed her middle finger all the way up his asshole.
Johnny felt violated, confused, but intensely aroused.
Before he could even begin to sort his feelings out he
erupted into the teenager's warm, wet mouth. Ginny
tasted his warm, mildly salty semen, then pulled her
finger out and pumped the rest of Johnny's load out
onto his chest. After a moment, she returned her
attention to Jack, who was doing what she considered to
be a pretty good job on her clit. In fact, it was such
a good job that, if she paid attention, she would
probably get off soon. The slim brunette rocked her
hips rhythmically, moving enough to subtly direct
Jack's slippery tongue just where she wanted it. Her
copious secretions rolled out of her channel and
dripped down onto the boy's face as he tongued her just
as she had instructed. In a minute or two, her teaching
paid off in an fierce orgasm. Ginny screamed as she
came, seeing stars against the black night, bucking
against the boy lying underneath her hard enough to
bruise his lip, and scaring them all a little.
The lithe young girl rolled between her two
friends, wriggled until they separated enough for her
to lie on the blanket, and stared at the stars while
she caught her breath. She put her arms out and found
two wet, slippery cocks, one hard, and one soft but
stiffening as she manipulated it. It had been a great
first act, and she already had a few plans for the
second one.
It wasn't long before both pricks were nicely firm
in Ginny's fists. She knelt between the boys and pulled
one cup of her brassiere down so her breast was
exposed, but cradled lewdly by her undergarment. "Like
this, boys?" Johnny sat up and Ginny pulled his face to
her dark brown nipple, cradling his head in her arm as
he suckeled her. With her free hand, she similarly
freed her other breast and beckoned Jack to partake.
She rocked back on her heels and grinned at the sky as
the boys sucked and nibbled at her hard nipples.
After a few minutes, Ginny pushed the boys away
and struggled to her feet. "On your knees, Johnny," she
ordered, "It's time you learned about eating pussy."
Johnny levered himself up, whining, "I already
know how to eat pussy."
"I think you can use a lesson anyway." Ginny stood
over Johnny and took his head between her hands. Ginny
had a sudden inspiration, and grabbed him by his ears.
"Put your tongue out," she directed. "And hold your
neck loose so I can move your head around. You've got
to paint by numbers for a while before I let you have a
clean canvas."
"Feel that?" she asked, touching his tongue to the
place where her labia met below her belly. "That's the
start of my outer lips." She ran his tongue down one
side and back the other. Johnny started to lick her as
she paused back where she had started. "Stop that!" she
ordered. "You'll get to lick soon enough. Now you're
just holding your tongue out as far as it can go. Got
it?" Johnny tried to nod, but she held his head too
tightly. She pushed him down. "Now this," she
continued, "Is where you put your cock, that is, if
you're real nice and I'm in a good mood. I like it when
you lick up inside there, too." She cocked her hips and
pushed him against the tender flesh between her pussy
and her asshole. "When I let you lick me here, use real
broad strokes. Make your tongue wide and flat, and lick
me in one long swipe from my tight little bottom hole
to my pussy. It's OK if you dip in at either end."
Ginny straightened and lifted up on Johnny's ears,
which were getting a little sore by now. "And now," she
whispered, "This is the place that really gets me off."
"You can warm me up by licking all around, but when I
want to come, lick this little stubby thing -- feel it?
Yeah, that's right -- right here. Be gentle at first,
but when I'm about ready to come, you can lick it fast
and hard. In fact, if you don't, you'll be sorry."
"Got that?" said Ginny in a tone that allowed only
one response.
Johnny nodded, afraid to trust his voice. Ginny's
bossy style struck a chord in him.
"Get your tongue up my cunt," she said, stepping
over him and forcing his head back. Johnny put his
tongue out as far as he could and licked the inside of
Ginny's pussy as she pushed his head further back and
put more of her weight on him. Ginny reveled in what
felt like being fucked by a very tiny, very agile
penis. She was glad that Johnny had a nice long tongue,
and she thought of another place where it would feel
good. "That's nice, Johnny," she cooed. "Real nice.
Would you like to put your tongue where it would turn
me on even more?"
Johnny mumbled his assent, sure that he was going
to get to lick Ginny's clitoris.
Ginny stepped back, spun around, and bent over
slightly. "Lick my asshole, Johnny," she ordered in a
bored tone of voice.
Johnny hesitated for an instant. This girl had
more moods than anyone he knew, and she changed them
when he least expected it. Now she wanted him to put
his tongue in a dark, dirty place. He felt a little
revulsion, but surpressed it. He had already decided
that he'd do whatever Ginny said. Just making that
resolution made his head spin, but more with excitement
than fear. He leaned forward and navigated by feel,
easily finding the girl's tight, warm serrations with
his ardent tongue.
Ginny reacted to Johnny's intimate probings with a
savage joy. He did it, and he didn't even complain! Now
I can make him do anything! She pressed back against
him, spreading her legs so the boy could have better
access to her sensitive rosebud. She tugged on Jack's
shoulders. "Lick my clit, Jack," she said hotly. "Lick
my clit while Johnny sticks his tongue up my butt."
Jack tried to comply, but Ginny's bent-over posture
made it hard. He burrowed in and finally made marginal
contact with the girl's enlarged nubbin. His chin
bounced off Johnny's, to the disgust of both of them.
Ginny realized that this game had problems, and
mentally kicked herself for not planning better. Now
she had to choose between her own satisfaction and
completing the subjugation of Johnny. It was an easy
choice. The sexy teenager sat back against the boy's
tongue. "Get it further up my ass," she hissed, feeling
his attempts at compliance immediately. She met his
probing with even more backwards force. It made it hard
for Jack to get to her clit, and it took him a long
time to make her come, but she knew it was worth it.
Afterwards, Ginny thought about the boys. She
ought to get them off once more, and she hadn't yet
clearly established her superiority over Jack. She sank
to the her knees on the blanket.
"Oh, Jack." she said sweetly. "Lie down here on
your back, will you? I'll do something for you I know
you'll like."
Jack did as she asked, pleased that she wasn't
going to make him do the same kinds of things as
Johnny. Ginny sat on his chest facing his feet and
clamped his arms to his sides with her knees. She
reached out and caressed his hard-on gently with her
right hand as she cradled his balls with her left. She
masturbated him slowly as her left hand fluttered like
a butterfly between his legs and over his testicles. He
groaned with pleasure. Ginny picked up the pace with
her right hand and started pinching and scratching his
balls with her left. It felt better than he could have
imagined, and he gave himself up to the ecstasy. Ginny
knew she had him then, and she put her weight on her
knees and walked backwards, then slowly, slowly sat
back down, this time on the boy's face. Jack could see
enough in the moonlight to know what was happening as
the slim teenager's soft bottom descended upon him. Her
hands kept up the exciting caresses and he knew that if
he didn't do what she wanted she'd stop touching him.
Ginny leaned forward and her buns separated. Finally,
her tight brown opening, still wet from Johnny's
tongue, touched Jack's mouth. With a little moan, Jack
tentatively slipped his tongue through his lips. He
felt her furrows and ridges as he licked her slowly.
Ginny delighted in Jack's soft tongue as she
continued to sit back on the boy. Soon he felt a heavy
weight on his cheeks, and he stopped licking and began
to probe the teenager's tight bottomhole with his
tongue. And still Ginny increased the pressure, until
all her weight was resting on the boy's face and he had
to tilt his head back in order to breathe.
Her hands flew up and down his cock. "Like that,
Jack?" she taunted. "Like having your tongue up my
butt? Like licking my asshole while I jerk you off?
Sure you do. I know you do. You like it so well you're
gonna shoot your load while I sit on your face. Well
c'mon, cream for me. Let's see what you've got in you."
Jack spouted what was indeed an impressive
quantity of white, sticky fluid, considering that he
had come less than an hour earlier. Ginny encouraged
him in a patronizing tone: "Oh, that's nice. Come some
more. A little more still. Very good, Jackie."
Ginny walked forward and sat in her previous
position on Jack's chest. She motioned to Johnny and he
straddled his friend and faced the girl. "And what
about you, Johnny?" she said in the same condescending
tone. "What can I do for my Johnny?" She reached down
with her left hand and inserted her middle and ring
fingers in her hot wet cunt. When they were thoroughly
coated with her oily fluid, she reached out and between
Johnny's legs, positioning her fingers at the entrance
to the boy's asshole. "Well, for starters, how about
this," she said as she slid her fingers inside him. He
grimaced, but stood where he was. She grasped his dick
firmly with her right hand and stroked it rapidly as
she explored the secret recesses of his rectum. Johnny
came in an embarrassingly short time, covering Ginny's
breasts with his semen.
* * *
On the way back to her house, Ginny cautioned the boys:
"I know you guys like to talk about your conquests.
This wasn't exactly a conquest, but you might be
tempted to blab about it to your friends. If I one word
gets back to me, I'm gonna tell everybody all the
details. You don't really want that, do you? I didn't
think so. That's why you'll dummy up, right?"
The boys nodded silently.
"On the other hand, if you guys can keep a secret,
we can play some more. I've got lots more things to
show you."
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 4.
Bobby dashed down the hall, grabbed the jamb of his
sister's door with a suddenly outstretched hand, and
pivoted into her room, hanging there as she turned
slowly away from her desk. "You didn't waste any time,
little brother," she teased, "They haven't been out of
the driveway for more than thirty seconds."
"I couldn't wait for them to get of out the house.
It's knowing that they'll be away most of the day that
made the difference. It'll be the first time since,
well, you know..."
Mary Beth stood up and sauntered slowly towards
the boy. "Yeah, Bobby. I think I do know." She
unbuttoned her blouse and pulled the shirt-tails out of
her shorts. "I think you want to get it on with your
big sister." She pulled her bra aside and ran her index
finger around her dark-brown, puffy nipple as she
licked her lips and favored her brother with a sloe-
eyed gaze. The girl's nipple hardened slightly and
pushed its way upwards. "You'd like to nibble on my
tits, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, Sis."
She pushed her shorts down, stepped out of them,
and tossed them on casually on the bed. Mary Beth
raised her hands to her hips, inserted her fingers in
the waistband of her white cotton panties and lowered
them until her pubic hair just showed at the waistline.
"You'd like to lick my pussy, too. You want me to sit
on your face while you lie there and lap me with you
big wet tongue." She shrugged out of her blouse, tossed
it over her shoulder, and stood with her hands on her
hips in her underwear. "You'd like to fuck me too, huh
Bobby? You want to drive your big cock up my pussy? You
want to fuck me so hard I squeal; so hard I beg for
mercy?"
She closed the distance to her brother and grabbed
his stiff cock through his jeans. She looked Bobby hard
in the face and hissed, "Your dick says that's what you
want, little brother."
Mary Beth backed away, crossed her arms, and
changed back to a teasing tone. "But you know what,
Bobby? You're gonna have to work for those things.
You've been too wimpy, Bobby. It's time you acted like
a man."
Bobby's responded in a surly voice: "Whaddaya want
from me, Sis? Most of the time you get on my case if I
don't do what you say fast enough."
"I've got lots of moods -- you oughta know that by
now. And now I'm in the mood for a tough guy. The only
way you're gonna get in my pants today is if you rip
'em off me."
Bobby took a step forward and wrapped his arms
around his sister. "You mean if I want it I'm gonna
have to take it?"
Mary Beth wriggled, but her brother didn't let her
go. "You got it, bro'." She suddenly spun around and
out of her brother's grasp and disappeared out the
door, her pushed-down panties winking at Bobby as her
buns moved up and down.
Bobby started after her, but thought better of it.
Smiling, he slowly stripped, tossing his clothes on his
sister's bed. Ready for action, he ran lightly into the
hall. Seeing no sign of her, he quickly searched his
and his parents' bedroom; she wasn't there either. He
darted into the living room, looked around, and saw
Mary Beth jump up from behind the couch and sprint for
the door he'd just come through. Bobby dashed after
her, catching her as she tried to turn the corner into
the hall. He tackled her with his arms around her
waist; she tried to twist loose as she fell, but only
succeeded in loosening Bobby's grip enough so his hands
slipped down her legs, dragging her panties to her
knees. Mary Beth turned onto her face so she could make
another break, but Bobby wriggled his way up her body
and held her down. His cock slipped between the cheeks
of his sister's bottom as he struggled to control her;
the girl tried to wriggle away, but he pressed down
hard with his hips and her writhing only served to
excite him.
"Gotcha, Sis," he said as he held her down. "Now
you're mine."
"Bullshit!" Mary Beth gave a mighty, but
unsuccessful, twist.
"Don't push it, or I'll ram this dick up your
butt. It'd be easy. You'd like to get butt-fucked,
wouldn't you, Sis?" He moved his hips downward an inch
or two.
Mary Beth had set this up, and she'd thought that
she could keep it under control, but having her little
brother's cock up her ass wasn't part of her plan.
There weren't a lot of things she hadn't done, but that
was one of them, and she wanted to be thoroughly in
control her first time. The teenager had a small moment
of panic. "Don't fuck me there!" she blurted out.
Bobby knew she meant it, and that gave him a
perverse kind of desire to do just that, although he'd
been mostly teasing before. Bobby's shaft slid jerkily
down between Mary Beth's wiggling buttocks until the
tip rested a couple of inches up from her virgin
bottomhole. Shifting his weight away from his sister's
back made him a little unstable; Bobby lifted his hips
a bit, reached down with his hand and grabbed his penis
so he could press it into her. He pushed down and it
the head dropped down into the depression around her
asshole; he eased forward with his hips.
Mary Beth felt Bobby's rod forcing her puckered
rosette apart. He was really going to do it! The
realization gave her strength and Bobby's new position
made him vulnerable. She tightened her buttocks,
jostling Bobby's hand and keeping his probing cock
momentarily at bay, then she twisted sharply, and Bobby
lost his balance, falling heavily on her as she lay on
her side. Bobby shifted tactics and rolled his sister
over on her back, rucking himself up, grabbing her
wrists, and pinning her hands to the floor. She panted
as she struggled, but Bobby got his pelvis between her
legs and pushed forward with his cock. Mary Beth's
panties were still around her knees, and Bobby couldn't
get her legs far enough apart. It took him a while to
realize what was wrong, but finally he grabbed both her
wrists with one hand reached down with the other, and
pushed the underwear down one leg, leaving it to dangle
around one of Mary Beth's calves. He grabbed his cock
and moved it around until he could feel his sister's
warm cunt with the head. She was so wet that Bobby had
no trouble driving his prick in to the hilt, in spite
of her evasive movements.
With both hands now holding Mary Beth's wrists,
Bobby fucked her with hard, short strokes as he taunted
her: "Thought you could get away, huh? You little
prick-tease -- just lie there and take it. Just lie
there and let me fuck the shit out of you. I'm gonna
come in your tight little box, Sis. The more you
wiggle, the more it turns me on. Oh God, you're so hot
and tight! Get ready, cause here it..."
Bobby felt a hard grip on his shoulders, and
before he had any idea what was happening, he was
pulled back and thrown on the floor. He looked up at
his assailant. His father stood over him, shouting
incoherently, his face twisted and ruddy as he opened
and closed his fists spasmodically. His mother backed
into the corner, clasped her arms across her chest
self-protectively, and started to cry.
Mary Beth rolled into a ball and covered her face
in her hands. Sounds very much like sobs emerged, then
the girl caught her breath for an instant. "He r..raped
me," she gasped, and then struggled to her feet and ran
awkwardly in the direction of her bedroom. The door
slammed, and Bobby was alone with his parents.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 5.
Bobby didn't understand it. In the midst of this family
crisis, his mom had decided to invite his aunt over for
dinner. His sister was sticking to her story about
being raped, and his parents both believed her, no
matter how much Bobby had pleaded that she had led him
on. Neither Mary Beth nor Bobby had admitted anything
about any previous sexual encounters, and Bobby didn't
even try to explain that they had been playing a sexual
game, so his story wasn't at all convincing. He had
finally given up trying to talk to his mother, and his
father was so angry he could barely stand to be in the
same room with him.
And now, he was going to have to deal with an
outsider. He liked Aunt Pamela well enough, but she was
such a formal person. His mother's younger sister had
never married and gone into the real estate business.
Now she had two offices in town and a flock of agents
working for her. He usually saw her in a business suit
with her hair in a bun, accentuating the regal planes
of her face. And she acted businesslike most of the
time, never getting too excited, always cool, maybe a
little detached. She was a stickler for politeness in
Bobby and Mary Beth, and always gently but firmly
corrected them when they forgot their manners with her.
Now they'd all have to act like nothing was going on,
and of course they can't carry that off, so they'll all
sit around stiff, and there'll be awkward silences and
boring discussions of safe topics... The thought made
Bobby's skin crawl. Here he was all torn up with shame
at what he'd done, even more shame at being caught,
anger at his sister for putting all the blame off on
him, and frustration with his parents for believing her
instead of him. He was as full of nervous energy as if
he'd downed four cups of coffee at a sitting, and he
was going to have to push it all inside and appear
calm. Shit!
He dressed in his nice wool slacks and a clean
sport shirt, buffing his good shoes but not bothering
to apply new polish. The doorbell rang. He went to
answer it, knowing his mom was busy in the kitchen. On
the way he ran into Mary Beth, who ignored him. He
looked at the way she was dressed and got angry all
over again. The simple white frock and understated
makeup made his sister look like a choir girl, like a
sacrificial virgin, like a innocent, but Bobby knew
what a two-faced bitch she was...
Still angry, he jerked open the front door. Pamela
stared at him with a startled expression on her face
that gradually solidified into an unspoken demand for
an explanation or an apology. Bobby chose the latter:
"Oh, sorry, Aunt Pamela. I guess I was in too much of a
hurry. Please come in."
Pamela swept by him as he held the door, giving
him a sidelong glance. She headed for the kitchen with
Bobby trailing behind. Pamela dashed forward and hugged
Bobby's mother, Connie, getting a little flour on her
suit in the process. Bobby thought their greeting was
more restrained than usual. They always seemed so close
to him, which was surprising considering what different
persons they were. They were the same height and
coloring, but Connie's soft, voluptuous body contrasted
with Pamela's lean, athletic figure, her loose, relaxed
hairstyle with Pamela's severe one. Pamela dressed like
a businesswoman, but Connie had given up her job when
she got married, busied herself with volunteer work,
and dressed in Madison's version of Junior League
style. The women began to talk in low tones, not
exactly excluding Bobby from the conversation, but
making no attempt to bring in into it. He got the
message and went to his room, where he lay on the bed
wishing he were somebody else.
* * *
The dinner was just as bad as Bobby had feared. His
sister sat beside him looking angelic as she prattled
on about how much she was looking forward to going to
college in the fall. Pamela sat across from him; every
so often Bobby thought he noticed her looking at him
with an evaluative expression on her face. She seemed
cool and a bit aloof, but at the same time focused on
him in a manner that made him even more uneasy. He felt
like a bug under a microscope. Not being involved in
the conversation, he tuned out...
Until he heard Pamela say, "Connie, I've decided
that it will be all right with me. You'd better talk to
Bobby, though."
Bobby came back to earth with a jolt. Talk about
what? He wished he'd been paying enough attention to
know what Aunt Pamela was talking about.
His mother looked wary. She turned to Bobby's
father, a florid, fleshy man not given to unnecessary
speech or displays of emotion. "Ed," she said with a
hint of pleading in her voice, "Why don't you tell
Bobby what we've been talking about?"
The phlegmatic man at the head of the table
cleared his throat and put down his fork. "Bobby, your
mother and I have talked, and we've decided that some
things will have to change now. We don't think it would
be right for you and Mary Beth to live in the same
house, at least until Mary Beth goes away to college in
the fall. You have already shown that you aren't to be
trusted in some areas, and we don't have any confidence
that there won't be a repetition of the, er, incident
that just happened. Maybe Mary Beth could have stopped
you, but you were the person who caused the problem, so
we think you should be the one to leave the house. You
can do one of two things. One, you can finish out your
school year at that military academy we looked at last
year -- the one in Indiana -- and then stay there for
the summer term, either returning here in the fall and
going back to Madison Central, or graduating and going
on to college. Or, you can live with Aunt Pamela until
the fall. We've asked her if she would take you in and
look after you, and she has agreed to do so. I'm sorry,
I know that it seems like we're rejecting you and
throwing you out of the house, but we really don't mean
it that way. We just can't take the chance of a
repetition of what happened. We wouldn't be being good
parents if we let that happen, and it certainly
wouldn't be fair to Mary Beth." He didn't sound angry,
but Bobby figured that he was just putting on a good
show.
After making one of the longest speeches that
Bobby had heard from him, Ed ground to a halt. He
remained with his elbows on the table and his hands
folded into a tent as he watched Bobby through pale
blue eyes.
Bobby felt his face flush with anger and shame.
Tears of frustration sprang to his eyes. He jerked
himself to his feet, knocking his chair backwards to
the floor, and ran blindly out of the room.
A few minutes later, his mother found him sobbing
on his bed. She rubbed his back lovingly. Bobby relaxed
with a sigh.
Connie spoke gently. "I'm sorry, Bobby. We still
love you. I love you. We don't know what else to do. It
probably won't be for very long. Please understand."
Bobby's mother massaged his back and shoulders. He
felt the cool, strong hands pressing, kneeling, and
stroking him through his shirt. When she leaned over
him, her hair fell against his cheek; it smelled like
Mary Beth's. Connie pressed her thumbs together at the
small of his back and slowly drew them apart and down.
Bobby caught himself hoping she'd slid her thumbs under
the belt of his pants. His prick grew heavy and thick.
She bent to kiss his cheek, and her scent was so like
his sister's that he wanted to turn and kiss his
mother's lips, to open them with his tongue and to sip
her nectar. He wanted to touch her heavy woman's
breasts, to weigh them in his hands and to suckle at
their thick, chewy nipples. He wanted to slide his
tongue down her belly until he reached her thick dark
bush, then to find her damp, pungent nest and lick the
lips until they spread welcomingly. He wanted to make
his mother pant, to moan, to sweat, to writhe, and
ultimately to convulse helplessly under his tongue. He
realized that it was time to get out of there.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 6.
Burdened by two suitcases. Bobby stumbled up the stairs
to Aunt Pamela's front porch. He dropped them on the
grey floorboards and caught his breath. His parents had
refused to drive him over, and he'd had to walk the
eight or nine blocks. His arms ached, and the exercise
combined with the warm spring day had caused him to
sweat through his tee-shirt. Taking a deep breath, he
rang the doorbell.
After a few moments, Bobby heard steps behind the
door; he straightened up and tried to look his best.
The latch turned, and the door swung open. Pamela did
not smile as she stood aside and waved her hand to
invite him in.
"Just leave you bags here," she said in an even
voice, "and come into the living room for a minute."
Pamela sat on the couch. Bobby started to do the
same, but she stopped him, saying, "I'd prefer that you
stand in front of me." She spoke slowly and seriously.
"I want you to understand that you are here
voluntarily. You may not like your choices, but you do
have choices, and one of them is leaving here. Should
you decide that's what you want, I won't stand in your
way or talk you out of it. I want you here only if you
want to be here. You can leave now, or at any time you
choose. All I ask is that you tell me first. There's
just one thing you need to know about your leaving: if
you go, you can't come back. Is that clear?"
"I guess so," replied Bobby while examining the
rug.
Pamela ignored his manners, and began to lecture
him. "Your mother told me about the incident with your
sister. She also told me that you tried to lie your way
out of it. I've agreed to take you in for a while, but
only if you agree to work at improving your faults. Do
you understand?"
Bobby noted Pamela's high-necked white silk
blouse, her generously-cut charcoal wool skirt, and the
way her dark-brown hair was pulled back into a bun. Her
high cheekbones, aristocratic features and her simple
makeup reinforced the impression of severity that made
him nervous. "Y..yes, ma'am," he stuttered in reply.
"Good. I've thought about it, and I've decided
that the things you need to work on are self-discipline
and humility. Your need for self-discipline is obvious:
you couldn't control yourself with your own sister.
Your lying about what happened means that put yourself
before the truth, your sister, and ultimately your
family. Your ego is too inflated, and if you learn some
humility you won't do things like that. Do you follow
me?"
"Yes'm"
"I told your mother that I would try to help you,
but I must have your cooperation. For your own good,
you must follow my instructions exactly as long as you
are in this house. You must do what I say, when I say
it. Are you willing to obey me?"
Bobby realized that he didn't have much choice
except to go along. "Yes, Aunt Pamela," he responded.
"That's good. I'll show you to your room now."
Bobby picked up his bags and followed Pamela down
the second floor hall. She led him to a small,
sparsely-furnished bedroom, and opened the drapes. At
her instructions, Bobby sat on the bed as Pamela opened
one of the bureau drawers. She pulled out a garment,
and handed it to Bobby. "I'll give you some time to
unpack -- an hour should be enough. Then I want you
take off all your clothes and put this on, and come
down to the living room."
Bobby inspected the garment briefly, then
complained, "But this is a pair of panties! I'm a guy;
I can't wear these."
"I'm going to forgive that outburst since this is
new to you, but I want you to know that it can't
continue. You will put those panties on, and come down
to the living room wearing them and nothing else. I am
not in the habit of explaining myself, but again I will
make and exception because you're just starting out
with this. One of your problems is a lack of humility.
Part of that is your big male ego. Wearing women's
underwear will eventually train some of that ego out of
you. I expect no further back talk. Do you understand?"
Bobby nodded and stared at the floor. Pamela
walked stiffly out of the room and closed the door
behind her.
* * *
Pamela sat on the couch reading a magazine when Bobby
came down the stairs. She was pleased at her progress
so far -- Bobby had agreed to her degrading dress code
with only perfunctory back talk -- but she was anxious
about the next few minutes. Bobby paused tentatively at
the living-room door and cleared his throat. Pamela had
heard him on the stairs, but she waited until then to
look up from her reading. Although she kept her
expression impassive, she smiled inwardly at the sight
he presented, standing nervously in his modestly cut
white panties, his male equipment making a bulge in the
front. His youth and poorly-masked innocence excited
her greatly.
"Come here," she said sternly, pointing to a spot
about six feet in front of her.
Bobby shuffled over in his bare feet, and stood in
front of her. His hips were cocked to one side in a
vain attempt to shield his manhood from her gaze.
"Stand up straight and face me," she ordered. Put
your hands behind your back.
Bobby squared his hips and pulled himself up into
a semblance of good posture.
"Shoulders back."
While not achieving a military bearing, Bobby did
the best he could.
"That's better. Let me tell you about some of the
rules around here. You will come straight home from
school, and you will go nowhere else beside school,
unless I give you permission to do otherwise. You will
not go out in the evenings or on weekends without my
permission, and you will keep your room neat and tidy
at all times."
"Now we need to have a talk about discipline,
especially sexual discipline, which appears to a
problem for you. First let me explain something. You
can think anything you like, and it's alright with me.
It's alright with everybody else in the world too,
because they can't know what you're thinking unless you
tell then, or act on your thoughts in some way. Where
the problems start is when you do or say things. That's
where you need to discipline yourself. You can think
the dirtiest, most salacious thoughts you want as long
as you control yourself. Does that make sense to you?"
"Yes'm"
"Good. Now let's discuss your sexual habits. How
often do you masturbate?"
"Ma'am?"
Pamela admired the blush that began in Bobby's
cheeks and spread to his chest. "You heard me. How many
times a day, on average?"
"Um...I guess once or twice."
"And what's your record?"
"Huh?"
Pamela admired the beet-red color of Bobby's face.
Was there a stirring beneath the panties? "How many
times have you ejaculated in one 24-hour period?"
"Five or six, I guess."
"Yes, I think some increased discipline is in
order. I have some new rules for you. From now on, you
will not masturbate at all unless I give you
permission. I will supervise your sexual release. If I
find that you have disobeyed me, I will punish you. Is
that clear?"
Bobby was astounded, but he swallowed hard and
responded meekly, "Yes, ma'am."
"Now I know that this will be hard for you, and I
don't intend to suppress your sexuality completely. I
will make appropriate arrangements from time to time."
Confusion replaced surprise and fear as Bobby's
principal emotion. Did that mean she would help him get
off?
Pamela examined Bobby's crotch. There were
definite twitching as Bobby's cock strove to straighten
itself under the thin nylon. This was working out fine;
now it was time to change to subject. Sometimes a
little ambiguity was a good thing.
"Now on to humility," she said, "Come over here
and kneel in front of the couch."
Bobby complied, glad to have his private parts
removed from the center of his aunt's vision.
"Now Bobby, it's time for your first lesson in
humility. You are going to have to do some things that
you're not going to like, but I promise you that you
will learn from them. By placing you in humiliating,
even degrading, circumstances, I will teach you to
surpress your ego. Are you ready for your first
lesson?"
Pamela reached down to her knees and raised her
skirt, spreading her legs slightly at the same time.
Bobby tried to look at her crotch, but the light was
bad and he could just see the dim white of her panties.
Pamela spoke to him in an even, commanding voice.
"Bobby, I want you to put your face against my crotch.
I don't want you to do anything else. You may feel a
desire to lick me or kiss me, but I want you to
surpress that craving. Put your head under my skirt."
Bobby ducked under the hem, and settled in with
his face between Pamela's legs. She felt his breath
against her, and suppressed a fierce urge to grab his
ears and grind her cunt into his face. She gently held
his head through the skirt. In a little softer tone,
she continued. "Now I'll guide you to the right place."
She moved his head until his nose pressed against her
clitoris and his mouth was at the entrance to her cunt.
She had to tip his head back in order to achieve
contact in both places, but was pleased at the thought
that some discomfort should be part of his experience.
She admonished him, "Just stay right there until I tell
you you can move while I read a little."
He felt her rest the magazine against his forehead
as he surrendered himself to the perfumed darkness. Her
pungent odor was strong in his nostrils. He felt her
soft pussy hair through the thin nylon. She seemed damp
under his mouth, but he couldn't tell if the cause was
her secretions or his hot breath. He breathed in
through his nose so he could smell her better, and out
through his mouth because he thought it might excite
her. He had only the dimmest idea of what might happen
if she got turned on, but it seemed like a good thing
to do.
Pamela knew what was causing the wetness, and she
knew there would be more when the juices that were
already filling her pussy leaked out. She knew she
couldn't do anything about that, but she told herself
to be sure that she didn't give the boy any other clues
about how hot she was getting. No wiggles, no pants, no
moans, she thought; I need to stay in character.
After several minutes she put down the magazine
and spoke to him: "Can you smell me?"
"Yes," he mumbled into her pussy.
She inhaled sharply. "Yes, what?"
"I'm sorry. Yes, ma'am."
"That's better. You may call me ma'am or you may
call my Aunt Pamela, but you must talk to me
respectfully."
"Yes'm"
"Do I smell very strong?"
"Yes, Aunt Pamela, you do."
"There's a reason for that. Ever since I agreed to
let you come to my house, I've changed into the same
pair of panties every time I came home. For five days
now, I've worn these panties around the house so they'd
be nice and ripe for you. I thought it would be more
humiliating for you to press your face against my
soiled panties than if they were clean. So just think
about how dirty they are as you bury yourself in them."
"There's something else. It will do your male ego
some good if you learn to respect women more. So while
you're kneeling there with your face in my lap, I'd
like you to get into the idea of worshipping my vagina.
It's the center of womanhood, and you need to
respectfully adore it."
"Think of both things at once. You're sitting
there with your mouth and nose pressed into my soiled
underclothes. It's dirty, yet you keep on doing it. At
the same time, underneath my dirty panties is my warm
vagina. You love it, and want to show your respect to
me and to all women by honoring it. You press your
mouth against it as a symbol of your esteem."
Pamela picked up her magazine again, but she
couldn't concentrate. She loved having his face pressed
against her pussy, but she was excited and frustrated
and wanted to come. All in good time, she thought as
she concentrated on not moving while Bobby knelt with
his mouth against her dampening crotch.
When she had taken all she could, she lifted her
skirt again. Bobby blinked in the light, and Pamela
ordered him to straighten up. She glanced down at his
pelvis. His erection made a stiff tent pole for the
white panties, and a few drops of pre-come dampened the
material at the apex. Pleased, she spoke again. "That
was very good, Bobby. I think you're a good boy who has
developed a few bad habits. Nothing that can't be
fixed, I'm sure."
Pamela touched Bobby's face with her left hand,
then touched his lips with her fingers. She slipped her
index and middle fingers into his mouth. "Suck my
fingers," she whispered, "Make them wet and slippery."
Bobby sucked and licked while Pamela swirled her
fingers around his mouth. "And now, Bobby," she
continued, leaving her fingers in his mouth, "It's time
for your second lesson in humility. I want you to get
on your hands and knees on the couch, with your head
against the armrest." She withdrew her fingers
reluctantly.
Bobby clambered into position, and Pamela sat
behind him. "Put your shoulders down on the arm of the
couch," she said in a soothing voice. Bobby complied.
"Now I'm going to take down your panties." She
pulled the underclothes over his hips gently and
slowly, stopping when they were just above his knees.
She touched his wrinkled asshole with her wet fingers.
The small, pink, hairless opening entranced her. "One
of the things that men with big egos are usually touchy
about," she began as she slipped her middle finger in
up to the second knuckle, "Is their anus." He was
tight, warm and elastic. She reminded herself to take
it slowly.
"It bothers them to have a woman's fingers in
their rectum." She withdrew her finger and probed
again, this time with both her index and middle
fingers. Bobby tensed his sphincter, found that that
made it hurt, and did the best he could to relax.
"You may have some of those feelings yourself. If
you do, I think you'll find that they diminish upon
repeated treatment." She twisted her hand back and
forth.
"Sometimes it takes a while, though, and I may
have to do this for you many times." She thrust her
fingers inside and massaged Bobby's prostate.
"You can help by letting me know when your ego
asserts itself. If you come and tell me, I can treat
it, either this way, or with some other technique." If
he were going to rebel, he would have done so by now.
With growing confidence and mastery, she finger-fucked
Bobby's butt with rapid, firm strokes.
Pamela continued, her voice growing more
seductive. "And now, Bobby, I'm going to be very nice
to you. This is getting you excited, isn't it."
"Yes, ma'am, it sure is."
"It would be hard for you to keep from abusing
yourself if I sent you to your room right now, wouldn't
it?"
"Yes'm."
"I know. Well, since this is your first day and
you're just getting used to things around here, I shall
relieve you. Would you like that?"
"Oh yes, Aunt Pamela, very much."
"You'd have to ask me nicely first."
"Oh...um... Aunt Pamela, would you please, er,
take care of me?"
"You want me to masturbate you?"
"Y..yes, ma'am."
"Then say it."
"Please Aunt Pamela, will you masturbate me?" The
word sounded clinical to Bobby's ears, and made his
pleading seem craven to him.
"Yes, Bobby, I will masturbate you until you
ejaculate."
Pamela suppressed a trembling in her right hand as
she reached for Bobby's cock. She strove for a cool
precision in her touch, and resisted the urge to
lovingly stroke his member. Holding him gently but
firmly, she began a series of long, even strokes with a
moderate tempo that matched the way she finger-fucked
his asshole. Bobby didn't last long at all. As he
spurted, Pamela aimed his cock into the panties bunched
around his knees. She kept up the same steady rhythm
for a minute after the last spasm, knowing that Bobby
would be especially tender then.
Pamela released Bobby's cock and slipped her
fingers out of his ass. She reached down and pulled the
panties up around Bobby's hips, reaching between his
legs and rubbing his come into his crotch.
Pamela prompted, "What do you say, Bobby?"
"Thank you, Aunt Pamela."
"That's right. Next time I want you to thank me as
you ejaculate. Thank me once each time you spurt. Do
you think you can remember that?"
Also Bobby was thoroughly satiated for the moment,
he was thrilled by the implication that there would be
a next time. Eagerly, he answered, "Oh yes, Aunt
Pamela, I'll remember."
"That's good. Run along to your room now. By the
way, don't sit down until your semen dries. I don't
want to get the furniture dirty."
"Does that mean I can't change clothes?"
"Yes, Bobby. I want you to wear those panties all
day. Each day, I want you to put on a new pair when you
get up in the morning. You can change into your regular
clothes when you go to school, but I want you to change
back into your panties as soon as you get home. I don't
want you to wear anything else around the house, and I
want you to wear the same pair all day. Is that clear?"
Bobby didn't like the sound of this, but he was
still coming down from the state of intense sexual
excitement that Pamela had caused, and he didn't want
to disagree with her, so he answered simply, "Yes'm."
Bobby went off to his room to finish unpacking and
to do his homework standing up. Pamela took a bath.
After locking the door carefully, she lay in the warm
soapy water and caressed her clitoris with her index
finger until she came violently. Her stomach muscles
contracted in spasms as she struggled to keep from
crying out in her ecstasy. Afterwards, she relaxed and
marveled at her good fortune.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 7
"I don't know about this, Ginny," Jack whined as the
teenager walked in circles around the tree, wrapping
the rope tight around his body. She moved slowing
downwards, pinning his hands to his sides, trapping his
erection against his belly, forcing his thighs and
knees together, and ending with a square knot at his
ankles. Johnny, also naked and already similarly bound,
watched from several feet away.
"Then why are you so hard, Jackie?" mocked the
slim brunette. She reached out and fingered the boy's
equipment, then pulled the rope out with one hand and
freed his cock with the other. "You got a rod just
thinking about it, didn't you? You like being helpless
while I make you do things. Dirty things. Nasty things.
You can't wait to find out what's going on in my filthy
little mind." The girl smirked into the hulking boy's
face as she masturbated him slowly, squeezing him a
little harder than necessary. This was the big one; if
things worked out, she'd have both boys in the palm of
her hand. She gave Jack a few quick jerks, then spun
away.
"How 'bout a little show, boys?" Ginny asked in a
theatrically throaty voice. She put her hands behind
her head and lifted her hair to the top of her head,
then let it fall about her shoulders. "You wanna see
this body?" The girl teasingly unbuttoned her blouse as
she undulated her hips. The blouse hit the ground,
followed by Ginny's shorts and her thin white
brassiere. She pulled down her panties and posed
provocatively as they bunched around her knees, then
she kicked them up in the air, caught them with one
hand, sauntered over to Jack and slapped him gently
across the face with them. Over and over the soft
material bounced silkily against the boy's cheeks,
bringing hints of Ginny's aromas to Jack's nostrils.
His excitement shone in his eyes, and Ginny smiled at
the effect her teasing humiliation was having. She
turned her underwear inside out, put her hand behind
the crotch, and rubbed the damp spot against Jack's
nose and lips. Looking suddenly bored, Ginny hung her
underwear on Jack's stiff prick; it trembled as the
twitchings of his cock bounced it around.
Ginny shifted her attention to Johnny. "He looks
pretty silly, doesn't he?" she smirked as she put her
hand on his shoulder and gave him an insolent look.
"Well, so do you, kid. You may not have my underwear
dangling from your cock..." She reached down to stroke
Johnny's half-hard prick. "But you're a sorry case,
just the same." Ginny put her tongue in the boys ear,
then whispered, "You want to put this thing somewhere
where it's warm and slippery?"
"Yeah, baby. I want to shove it up your hot cunt."
"I'm the one that'll do the shoving; you're the
one that's all tied up." Her fingers flew up and down
Johnny's now-stiff shaft, fluttering delicately like
butterfly wings.
"Whatever you say, Ginny. I just want to be inside
your pussy."
"You're gonna have to promise me something,
though. You're gonna have to do whatever I say
afterward."
"Don't I always?"
"I guess so, but tell me now." She tweaked the tip
of Johnny's prick with her fingers.
"Fuck me baby, and I'll do whatever you say."
Ginny turned and rubbed against the boy like a big
cat, wriggling her hips up and down as she twisted,
finally feeling his rod between her buttocks. She bent
at the waist and reached between her legs, manipulating
Bobby's stiff member and tugging it downward, feeling
it catch against the tight, recessed ring of her
asshole before she worked it loose, and, still pressing
backwards with her hips, dipped the head into her hot,
wet, sticky honey pot. "That feel good, big boy?" she
breathed softly as she wiggled his shaft up and down
with her fingertips.
"Ungh." Bobby's incoherence was caused by his
urgent desire to bury his dick in Ginny's tight pussy
and his frustration that all his pushing against the
ropes was getting him no nearer to his goal. He kept
flexing his hips back and forth anyway.
Ginny pushed his cock down far enough so she could
rub her clitoris with it. "Want more, Johnny?"
"Lemme fuck you. Please."
"Like this?" Ginny thrust her hips back against
the boy. Her warm slickness was delicious. She
tightened her vaginal muscles on him, and he thought
he'd die with pleasure. "Oops!" Ginny let out a
playful, teasing cry as she pulled away from him. She
twined her arms around Johnny as she kissed his ear and
whispered: "Now you know what it'll be like, Johnny.
I'll fuck you just like that. I'll fuck you 'til you
shoot in my hot cunt. But promise me again, Johnny:
you'll do just what I say afterwards."
"Sure, Ginny. You know I will."
Ginny danced away from the tree and found her
purse, then sashayed back tearing open a square foil
packet.
"Aw c'mon Gin, lemme fuck you bareback."
"No way, kid. You already got more than you
should've." She rolled the sheath down Johnny's rod,
and held him as she turned her back, bent over, and
pressed herself onto him. "How's that, Johnny?" she
asked as she began thrusting backwards sharply and
pulling forward leisurely with a little hip-wiggle.
"Shit, Ginny. You feel fucking fantastic."
"I knew you'd like it," Ginny purred. She rode the
boy to his orgasm while looking deeply into Jack's
eyes.
* * *
"Before I untie you, I'm gonna tell you what you have
to do." Ginny whispered for a few seconds in Johnny's
ear, and Jack saw his eyes widen.
"I can't do that..." Johnny started to protest,
but Ginny cut him off.
"Of course you can. You might even like it. "You'd
never admit it, though..." The girl stood in front of
Johnny with her hands on her slim hips. "Promise me,
now, or you'll spend the rest of the day tied up."
"OK, Gin... But what's Jack gonna..."
"Let me worry about Jack," said Ginny crispy as
she began to fumble with the knots.
Soon Johnny was free; he stripped off the used
rubber as the pair advanced on Jack. Ginny stood behind
Johnny and pushed down on his shoulders until he knelt
at Jack's feet. Ginny pulled her panties off Jack's
still-stiff prick, scissored one leg over Johnny and
wrapped her arms around Jack's bound body. The ropes
felt strange against her skin; she rubbed her body up
and down, savoring the feel of Jack's smooth skin and
the roughness of his fetters. She trapped his dick
between his body and hers and rubbed against it,
rotating her pubic mound in little circles as she
pressed against him. Johnny looked up at Ginny's
buttocks, flexing and squirming just inches from his
face. He saw the shiny slickness between her legs, and
peered into the dark, hairy forest of her pussy. A drop
of oily, clear fluid dripped down the girl's leg, and
Jack leaned forward to lick it off. He followed the
spicy odor in the direction of Ginny's cunt, and
plunged his tongue into its hot, wet interior as the
girl began to pump her hips back and forth. His nose
slipped between her buttocks and slid over her greasy
asshole. A few weeks ago, Jack had been repelled when
Ginny made him lick her there, but something had
changed: Ginny's tight brown ring turned him on now. He
worked his nose into its recesses.
Ginny's motions were beginning to chafe Jack where
she rubbed his cock against the rope that crossed his
belly; he was relieved when she pulled back a bit,
reached down with one hand, and pushed his cock between
her legs. She was shorter that he, so her crotch forced
his cock uncomfortably downward, even though Ginny
stood on tiptoes. "Do your stuff, Johnny," the girl
mumbled, to Jack's confusion.
Johnny knew the time had come, and he steeled
himself as Ginny pressed her hips forward, causing
Jack's cock to slide past her vagina and into Johnny's
open mouth. The kneeling boy tentatively licked the
head, then pressed forward, plunging his nose into
Ginny's brown rosebud as he sucked his friend's cock.
It felt soft and warm in his mouth. He repressed the
urge to gag.
Jack didn't know what was happening until he felt
the light sharp nips of Johnny's teeth. He tried to
twist away, but could only move an inch or two. Ginny
whispered as she licked his face: "How's your dick
feel, Jackie-boy? You like the way Johnny sucks your
cock? He's not as good at it as I am, is he? He'll get
better if he gets lots of practice, though."
"That's disgusting! Let me go!"
"Disgusting, huh? Then how come you're still hard?
If it's really disgusting, then you won't come in his
mouth, will you. That'll be the proof, Jackie. Can
Johnny get you off? I'll bet he can. See if you can
keep from coming, but I think you will."
Meanwhile, Johnny was doing his best to turn Jack
on, but he wasn't getting very far, because Ginny's
squirmy ass kept him from getting much of Jack's cock
into his mouth. That was actually fine with Johnny, who
has made his piece with sucking just the end of his
friend's dick, as long as he got to bury his face in
Ginny's delicious ass while he was doing it, but was
worried about going much farther. Ginny hadn't thought
much about the problems Johnny would have in this
position, but she wanted a change for reasons of her
own: she wanted to watch Johnny as he sucked his friend
off. The thought of seeing the head of Jack's big dick
rippling under Johnny's hollowed cheeks turned the girl
on, and she scissored one leg back over Johnny and
knelt beside him.
"Hey, there, boy. Yeah, you with the dick in your
mouth. Are you a good little cocksucker? Go ahead, you
can get more meat in." Ginny pressed on the back of
Johnny's head and he obediently let Jack further
inside, then began to move his head up and down on the
boy's penis. Ginny slid her hand down Johnny's back and
stroked his buttocks. What the hell, might as well give
him a thrill, thought the girl as she trailed the
fingernails of her other hand down Johnny's chest
before wrapping her fingers around his cock. She pumped
him gently and probed between his asscheeks for his
tight little hole. With Ginny's middle finger up his
butt, her strong hand fisting his dick, and his mouth
full of Jack's warm prick, Johnny was drowning in
sensation. He moaned and pressed forward until he felt
Jack against the back of his throat.
Ginny looked up at Jack. His eyes were slits, and
his face was contorted. Johnny's mouth felt great, but
he was revolted by what was happening. Gradually the
good feeling grew until it dominated his squeamishness.
He grunted.
Ginny picked right up on it. "Turns you on,
doesn't it, Jackie-boy. You gave me all that shit about
how disgusting it all was, but look at you now. Pretty
close to dropping your load?" She turned to Johnny.
"Suck him faster now. Move your mouth up and down on
his hot, stiff prick. Yeah, that's right. Play with his
balls. Good. Yeah Johnny -- suck that cock. Make him
come in your mouth."
Johnny moved faster and faster until he felt
Jack's prick jerk in his mouth. One hot spurt hit the
back of his throat, and he pulled suddenly away and
bent down to spit out the sticky fluid. Jack shot a few
more squirts into the air before Ginny took pity on
him, reached up, and milked his dick dry.
She stood up and wiped her hands on Jack's face.
Looking at the ashamed, beaten look in his eyes, she
knew she wouldn't even have to threaten them. They'd
know that she'd tell everybody about what happened if
they crossed her. She was home free; they'd do anything
she said from now on.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 8.
When Bobby came home from school the next day, Pamela
was waiting in the hall. "Bobby," she said while
putting one hand on his shoulder, "I want you to go up
and get into your panties and come down to the living
room. Be quick about it."
Bobby ran up the stairs. Pamela sauntered into the
living room, and stood by the coffee table waiting.
There was a clatter on the stairs and Bobby darted
round the corner and braked to a halt. He looked
confused and vulnerable in the underwear. Pamela
watched his equipment jiggle back and forth under the
thin material. She favored him with a thin smile. "It
is time for your next lesson in humility. Lie down on
the floor on your back."
Bobby complied. Pamela walked over to him and
stood over his head facing his feet. Bobby tried vainly
to look up her skirt, but it was too dark. "Bobby," she
began, "I am now going to sit on your face. You will
find that your nose and mouth will be pressed up
against my anus. Again, I don't want you to move your
mouth at all, and I want you to make sure that you keep
your tongue inside your lips. Do you understand?"
Bobby wasn't the quickest kid around, but he knew
his lines: "Yes, Aunt Pamela."
Pamela lowered herself onto Bobby's face. She
leaned forward and balanced herself on her hands, and
pressed her asshole against Bobby's nose. She smiled as
she watched his cock start to twitch. She sat down a
little harder and felt his nose pressing firmly against
her opening. She momentarily regretted that she was
wearing panties, but reminded herself that she had lots
of time, and in the end she would be even more
satisfied if she brought him along slowly. She noted
that his cock was already hard. It lay flat against his
belly, making a ridge in the white briefs. She moved
forward and brushed his lips with her bottomhole, then
gradually increased the pressure. Bobby's cock strained
against the panties as it tried to rise from his
stomach.
Pamela talked to Bobby in an even voice. "It may
be difficult for someone with a big male ego to press
his nose and lips against a woman's anus, but that's
precisely why it's good for you. It may be hard for you
to be completely passive while a woman decides just
where on your face to sit, and while she sits on you
just as hard or as gently as she wants, but it will do
you good. I'm going to sit here a while and let you get
used to the feeling."
After ten or fifteen minutes, Pamela arose. She
stood over him again, then moved over to the couch and
sat down. She spoke softly: "Bobby, you may get up
now."
Bobby rose unsteadily to his feet.
"Come over here." She pointed at the floor just in
front of where she sat.
Bobby shuffled over and stood in front of her. His
erection jutted out against the panties. Pamela looked
at it with a feigned expression of irritation. "Would
you like me to relieve you?"
"Please, ma'am."
"You know how to ask."
"Would you please masturbate me, Aunt Pamela?"
"Yes, Bobby, I will. Take your panties off and
hold them so they will catch your emissions."
Bobby awkwardly extricated himself from the
underclothes. Pamela assumed what she hoped was a bored
expression as she fisted Bobby's cock back and forth.
Bobby came as quickly as before, and held the panties
up to catch his semen. After one or two spurts it
seemed to Pamela that he had forgotten her
instructions, and she remonstrated, "Remember how to
thank me, Bobby."
"Thank you...thank you...thank you," Bobby intoned
in time with his squirts, which were in turn timed to
her strokes. After the panties were soaked, Pamela
instructed Bobby to put them on and go up to his room
to study.
* * *
For the rest of the week, Pamela performed variations
on the theme. She always met Bobby as he came home, and
she always made him worship her asshole while she sat
on his face wearing her soiled panties. Sometimes she
would jack him off afterwards as he stood in front of
her, all the while looking at him in the same way that
a milkmaid looks at a cow. Sometimes she would finger-
fuck his asshole while she made him come. Sometimes she
wouldn't let him come at all. Bobby got to the point
where he had a hard-on when he came down the stairs
with his panties on, then he began to get hard on the
way home from school. Pamela spent a lot of time in the
bathtub with her hands between her legs.
On Friday night, Pamela came into Bobby's room as
he was getting ready for bed. He stood uneasily beside
his desk, and his prick began to harden. Pamela noticed
and smiled to herself. She went to his bed, turned down
the covers, and picked up the pillow. She took
something out of her pocket and stuffed it into the
pillowcase. Turning back to Bobby, she announced
firmly: "I've put a pair of my panties in your pillow.
I've worn them a long time and they smell like me. I
want your head to be full of a woman's essence while
you sleep. I don't want you to remove them, move them,
or turn the pillow over." She turned on her heel and
left abruptly.
After a while, Bobby went to bed. At first he
found the intoxicating aromas that came up from his
pillow to be pleasant. He thought of his time between
Pamela's thighs and got hard. He thought of the way she
sat on his face, and he remembered her stroking his
cock. His excitement kept him awake, and when he
finally fell into a shallow sleep, he dreamed fitfully
of Pamela. It was a very long night.
The next morning, Pamela awakened Bobby at about
eight, and invited him to come down for breakfast. It
was a special treat for Bobby: waffles, blueberries,
and real maple syrup. He stuffed himself under Pamela's
watchful gaze.
After they cleaned up, Pamela invited Bobby into
the living room. She sat on the couch and he stood in
front of her. She fingered his cock through his
panties, and he stiffened immediately. She looked up at
him. "Today you're going to learn something new, Bobby.
You have already acquired some abilities in passive
discipline; now I'll get you started on active
discipline. In active discipline, you have to do more
than just take what someone else dishes out -- you have
to control yourself to achieve a result that part of
you doesn't want. Do you understand?"
"I'm not sure, Aunt Pamela."
"I'm sure it will be clear as we get into it. Now
take your panties to your knees."
Bobby pushed his underwear off his hips and down
his thighs. His prick sprang to attention.
Pamela continued. "Now masturbate slowly."
Tentatively, Bobby put his hand to his cock. He
gripped it nervously and took a couple of strokes.
Pamela encouraged him: "That's right Bobby, do it some
more. Now stop for a minute. Here's what I want you to
do: I want you to masturbate until you almost
ejaculate, but I want you to stop just before you do.
You'll know when you do it right because a little clear
fluid will well up from the tip of your penis. If you
go too far the fluid will be cloudy. I'll let you get
away with that much, but if you squirt I shall punish
you. It will be hard for you, because part of you will
want to come, but you will have to be strong. Begin
now."
Concentrating hard, Bobby began to move his hand
back and forth. After a minute, his hips started
twitching. Pamela watched him as if she were
administering an English test, but inwardly she was
filled with a heady excitement. Bobby felt that he was
getting close, and stopped.
Pamela leaned forward and eyed Bobby's helmet.
"You stopped too soon, Bobby. There's nothing there but
the normal wetness that you get there when you get
excited. When you get as close as I want you to get,
there will be much more. Try again."
It didn't take Bobby nearly as long to feel that
tingle in his balls. He got to where he stopped last
time, took about three more strokes, and took his hand
away. Uh-oh, he thought, that's too much; I'm gonna
come. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold back. He
felt something filling his cock, and then a gentle flow
emerged to wet the tip of his cock and to drip into
Pamela's hand.
She inspected the fluid in her palm. "That's too
much, Bobby. This is all cloudy. At least you didn't
squirt. Rest a minute and try again. I'll hold you
while you get ready." She cupped his balls in one hand
and pressed with her fingertips at the place where his
sac joined his groin.
Under her control, Bobby rapidly was rejuvenated,
and began to once more fist himself. This time he was
successful, and Pamela watched with approval as clear
liquid covered the head of his cock. She picked some up
with her thumb and then licked it off as if she were
somehow conducting a taste test to see if it was the
right stuff. It was salty and viscous, and she loved
it, but she simply nodded her head, and said, "That's
good, Bobby. Now do it again."
Bobby was overconfident this time, and stopped too
late. A single jet emerged into Pamela's waiting hand.
Bobby felt his body twitching as it got ready to
deliver the rest of his load, but he managed to hold
that much back.
Pamela looked at her hand, then at Bobby. He was
worried, but she spoke mildly: "You ejaculated, Bobby.
I'll have to punish you for that, but because you're
trying so hard and doing so well, I'll be easy on you."
She stood up and rubbed his come onto Bobby's face. She
reached under her skirt and tugged at her panties,
worried that their wetness would give away her
excitement, but eager for what was to come. Standing on
one leg at a time, she removed her underwear and balled
the garment in her hand. "Open your mouth, Bobby. I'm
going to gag you with my panties."
As she stuffed his mouth, she continued: "I put
the crotch right where your tongue will be. You can
taste me and smell me while you masturbate yourself.
And don't even try to talk."
She sat back down and resumed her grip on his
balls. He was soon ready, and tried again. He was
excited by the feel and taste of her panties in his
mouth, and compensated by stopping early -- too early,
as it turned out. He tried again, but was again too
early. Pamela longed to take him in her mouth and suck
down his juices. She knew it wouldn't take more than a
few swipes with her tongue at the head of his cock to
put him well over the edge. She repressed her desires.
"Try again, Bobby. You can do it." She urged him
on.
Bobby made another run at it, but stopped too soon
again. Pre-come oozed copiously from his cock, but
Pamela knew what she wanted, and that wasn't it. "Come
on, Bobby. You're going to have to push it a little if
you're going to do it again."
Bobby's face screwed up in concentration as he
started to beat his meat one more time. He was in a
fever of excitement caused by the repeated
masturbation, the delicious stern presence of his Aunt,
and the smell and taste of her underwear in his mouth.
He felt the first surges of his ejaculation, took one
more stroke and stopped. For a moment, he thought he'd
done it. His elation turned to chagrin as he felt his
muscles start to pump out his thick white syrup. Pamela
held up her hand and caught the first heavy, viscous
spurt. Several weaker ones followed, filling her palm.
Pamela beckoned him to lower his face, smeared his
emissions all over his nose, mouth and cheeks, then
spoke harshly: "Bobby! And you were doing so well! I'm
sorry, but I really will have to punish you this time.
Go into the bathroom and get a towel."
Blushing deeply, Bobby reached down to pull up his
panties. Pamela stopped him: "Leave those around your
legs. You can walk if you take little steps." Bobby
hobbled off towards the bathroom, pausing occasionally
to reach down to reposition his panties, which worked
down his legs as he shuffled along. He soon returned
carrying a large bath towel. He paused to pull his
underwear up a bit. Pamela almost burst out laughing.
There he was, dressed only in women's underwear worn as
a hobble, his face covered with his own come, his
cheeks a full as a chipmunk's and a corner of her
panties emerging from his mouth, his cock erect and
purple from his attentions, sweating from the
excitement and from his exertions, and loving every
minute of it. Her lips quivered as she tried to keep a
straight face. She had her schoolteacher look on, and
hoped Bobby would just think that she was impatient.
Bobby made it all the way across the room and
handed Pamela the towel. She spread it primly across
her lap, then looked at Bobby significantly. "Lie
across my knees, Bobby, and put your hands on the
floor."
Bobby felt a brief impulse to rebel, but it
disappeared as fast as it came. She hadn't made him do
anything yet that didn't result in some weird and crazy
turn-on; this probably wouldn't be any different. And
besides, he was somehow in her power -- he
automatically obeyed her without even thinking about
it. He didn't know if he could not obey her. He lay in
a V across her lap, supporting himself with his hands
and feet.
He heard her voice addressing him. "Do you know
what I'm going to do, Bobby?"
Bobby bobbed his head up and down.
"I'm going to give you a mild spanking. You need
to work on controlling your impulses, don't you?"
Another nod.
"Maybe this will help." She gave him a sound slap
on one buttock with her right hand. It hurt a little,
but mostly stung. He flinched anyway. She repeated the
blow, this time on the other cheek. She caressed his
bottom with her hand, then smacked it twice more. She
ran her middle finger up and down the crack of his ass,
then probed at his asshole. As she sank it in as far as
the second knuckle, she asked, "Do you think this will
help your self-control?"
Bobby nodded. He didn't know if it would or
wouldn't, but this whole scene was getting him even
hotter. Her spanks didn't hurt much, and what pain
there was mixed with his excitement and his submissive
position in ways that aroused him.
Pamela withdrew her finger and whacked him several
more times. She found his bottom hole again, and sank
her finger to the hilt, wiggling it around for good
measure. Leaving her finger in his asshole, she spanked
him, somewhat ineffectively, with her left hand.
Looking for a better combination, she put the middle
and index fingers of her left hand into his ass while
she slapped him with her right hand. She had to reach
around the hand that was probing him to get to his
right buttock, but she was pleased with the effect. She
felt his stiff cock through the towel and her dress.
She moved her legs around to try to give it a little
stimulation. She withdrew her left hand from his
asshole, and gave him four quick, hard slaps with her
right.
She pushed him away, saying, "Stand up now,
Bobby."
Bobby pulled himself erect. His face was deep red,
and he was sweating furiously. His cock pointed at
Pamela, curving towards the ceiling. She looked at him
intently, but her words were mild: "There now. That
wasn't so bad, was it? You're doing very well, overall.
I think that you're going to be good at this."
She beckoned him closer. He leaned down and she
daintily reached for the part of her panties that
emerged from his mouth. Holding a corner between her
thumb and forefinger, she slowly extracted her garment
and laid it on the towel still covering her lap. She
smiled up at him, and said, "Kneel down, Bobby."
His face was level with hers. She took it in her
hands as she told him what was to come: "Bobby, I've
worked with you for a week now. You're doing quite
well. Part of that is because of your efforts, and part
is because I've been such a effective instructor. I'm
going to give you a chance to show me your gratitude. I
think you'll enjoy it yourself, but don't forget that
you're doing it to show me how much you appreciate what
I'm doing for you."
She removed the towel and underwear from her lap
and laid them on the floor between Bobby and the couch.
She stood up and pulled part of the towel onto the
cushion, then sat back down on it. She lifted her skirt
and beckoned him forward. He put his head between her
legs and scooted forward on the floor, wiggling his
nose into his Aunt's damp pubic hair. "You've done this
before, Bobby, but it's different this time. Part of
the difference is that I'm not wearing underwear. Do
you like that part?"
"Yes'm," Bobby mumbled as her pressed his lips to
her slippery labia. He was beside himself with
excitement.
"The other part concerns what you're going to do.
Before, you were passive, but not this time." Her tone
changed to one of command: "Lick me."
Bobby didn't need much encouragement to do what he
had been dying to do anyway. He leaned forward and
lapped at her labia. His tongue slipped easily between
them, and was quickly covered with her sticky juice.
"A little deeper. That's good."
Bobby thought that he could follow orders like
this all day.
"Now move up a bit. A little higher. No, that's
too high. There. Feel that little nubbin?"
"Mmph."
Pamela interpreted that as an affirmative. "That's
my clitoris. If you lick me there, I'll have an orgasm.
It will make me feel good, and it will be your thanks
to me. Be gentle."
Bobby licked up and down. Little tremors ran
through Pamela's guts. It was finally happening, and it
was every bit as delicious as she had hoped.
"Now make little circles around it."
As Bobby complied, Pamela reveled in being able to
teach such a young, handsome innocent to bring her
pleasure. She would turn this boy into her perfect
lover. What an opportunity!
"Now back and forth."
Pause.
"Now up and down again."
Pause.
"Circles."
Pause.
Then, in a growing frenzy: "Faster, Bobby, faster.
Press a little harder. Right there. Yes. Yes. YES."
Pamela bucked her hips against Bobby, quivered,
groaned, and went over the top, falling down in wave
after wave of ecstasy. She lifted her skirt to get a
look at her nephew. His face was slick with his come,
her come, and both their sweat. He looked at her face,
saw the look of radiant happiness there, and beamed in
satisfaction -- he made her look like that! And then he
looked down, down at what he'd been tasting, smelling,
kissing, and dreaming about all week. Her pussy was
mouth-watering: pink lips glistening with his saliva
and her juices, pouting and pulsing with tiny rhythmic
contractions; her clitoris just peaking between the
smaller lips up near the place where the larger ones
came together; and a lush covering of long, curiously
straight, dark-brown hair that filled the place between
her legs and continued up a third of the way to her
deep, narrow belly-button.
He put his face in her lap. She held his head and
stroked it gently. Presently, she pushed his face down
into her crotch. "It's time for you to get back to
work," she said softly. "I was in a hurry then, but
this time we'll take it long and slow."
Surprised, Bobby started to lick her clit again.
She remonstrated: "No, Bobby, not like that. Start out
very softly and slowly. Stretch it out. Make it take an
hour, if you can."
Bobby learned fast, and Pamela started a long,
slow climb. When she was pleasantly aroused, but still
a long way from coming, she slowed Bobby again, so she
could linger on the high plateau. She drifted along on
his tongue like a balloon on a breeze, soaking the
towel beneath her hips. "OK, Bobby," she whispered,
"Take me a little higher." Bobby moved fractionally
more quickly, and she gradually rose to a place where
she could feel a series of exquisite tiny orgasms, like
a string of firecrackers exploding at great distance in
slow motion. Her hips rocked back and forth in a
relaxed rhythm as she floated from peak to peak. Tiring
a bit, she gently pressed downwards on Bobby's head
while raising one leg and propping her ankle against
the cushion. Bobby obediently tongued the entrance of
her pussy, lapping up her free-flowing liquor. She
pushed him lower still. "My anus," she intoned. Bobby
kissed her bottom hole, feeling its furrows and
fissures with his lips. He pressed his tongue to the
opening, licking up the fluids that had dripped down
from her pussy. He tasted her dark brown flavors, and
moved his tongue faster in search for more. Pamela
relaxed her sphincter and felt his tongue invade her
softness. It was exquisite -- like velvet. She melted.
Soon she felt an urgent need for release, and she
pulled gently on Bobby's hair. He moved upwards,
pausing at the entrance to her pussy. Urged on by her
tugging, he came once more to her stiff little button.
"Be quick, Bobby," she directed. "Tight little circles.
That's right, Bobby, you're going to make me come
again. This is the big one Bobby. Take me over the top.
Make me scream. Yes. Now. Eee..." Pamela keened as
Bobby licked frantically. Her stomach muscles
contracted in great spasms, and her hips bucked so much
that Bobby had a hard time staying on target. Finally
satiated, she pushed his head away. Bobby stared up at
her, fascinated once more by the radiant look on her
face. He was suddenly conscious of how much the muscles
at the base of his tongue hurt.
Pamela roused herself. She knew what she wanted to
do, but she thought that it wouldn't be right at this
stage of Bobby's training. She decided to do it anyway.
This looked like one special kid, and she was going to
go with her gut. "Bobby," she said in a voice that
trembled just a bit, "That was wonderful. It was so
wonderful that I'm going to do something special for
you. I don't want you to get the idea that this is
going to happen very often, but it's going to happen
now. Stand up, Bobby."
Bobby rose unsteadily to his feet. His panties
fell down to lie in a soft white pile around his
ankles. His prick stood out red an angry-looking.
Pamela pulled him closer, and he took a half-step.
ending up with his legs between hers and his shins
pressed against the couch. She touched his member
lovingly, and leaned forward. Bobby thought he knew
what she was doing, but he wanted it so badly that he
was afraid to believe it for fear that he would somehow
jinx things. She looked up at him as she opened her
mouth and softly kissed the head of his cock. Slowly,
slowly, she pressed forward, opening her lips just
enough to let him in. She paused when she had engulfed
the helmet, and pulled slowly back again, licking the
heart-shaped place on the underside with the pointed
tip of her tongue. She held his gaze for a minute, then
moved swiftly forward, taking most of him in her mouth.
She stroked him with her tongue as she pulled back
again, stopping when the head began to emerge, and
rapidly swallowing him. She sucked gently on his pole,
as gradually pulled back, her cheeks hollow.
She felt the twitchings that meant he was about to
come. So soon, so quick, she thought. She was
disappointed, but took comfort that there would be many
more times. She moved her head rapidly now, sucking and
licking and stroking the base of his cock with her
hand. Bobby came in thick ropes, which Pamela swallowed
greedily. At last, she pulled back for the last time,
and smiled up at him. A drop of white liquid escaped
from the corner of her mouth and rolled down her chin.
She scooped it up with her index finger, which she held
to Bobby's lips. He licked her finger as she probed his
mouth. She took back her hand, put the finger in her
mouth, gave him a provocative look, and sent him
upstairs.
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 9. - Part 1.
Ginny's heart pounded so hard she could hear the blood
pumping in her ears. They'll kill me if they catch me
snooping in their bedroom, she thought. She tried to
settle herself down. C'mon girl, they're gone for at
least an hour. If they come back early, you'll hear
them in the driveway and be out of here and lying on
your own bed looking sweet and innocent before they get
through the front door. Reason provided only a partial
calming. The girl's hands trembled as she pawed
carefully through the dresser drawers, rearranging
things as they were after she sifted through the
contents. Lessee, this is Mom's underwear drawer...
Ooh, there's a sexy pair of black lace panties! I
wonder when she wears these? And this black pushup bra,
real low-cut on top... She closed the drawer and opened
the one above it. Dad's jockey shorts, socks... She
burrowed deeper. Ooo la, la! Feel these stretchy bikini
briefs! I wonder what Dad's meat looks like cradled in
these. She licked her lips nervously, imagining sliding
her fingers across the slippery material and feeling
her father's prick underneath, then feeling his cock
start to harden as she moved her hand faster, hearing
him sharply inhale as she gripped him hard.... She
shook her head, returning her thoughts to the present.
She was down to the paper at the bottom of the
drawer, and reluctantly pushed it closed. Ginny
shuffled through the boxes on top of the dresser,
finding jewelry, sunglasses, collar stays, safety pins,
and a pile of pennies. She looked around. The bureau
was an inch or so away from the wall. I wonder if...
she thought, disappointed that her search hadn't turned
up anything salacious. Probably not. She leaned over an
grabbed one of the back corners of the bureau, and
pulled. The dresser hung up on the rug, so the girl
lifted up and dragged the chest of drawers out about
six inches. She walked around to the side and ran her
hand up and down the back of the bureau. Paper rustled
against her fingers. She wedged her head between the
chest and the wall and peered into the gloom as she
explored, finding a manila envelope taped to the
plywood with the open end up and the flap loose.
Eagerly, Ginny dipped her fingers into the pouch, where
they encountered some paper. She pinched her fingers
together and pulled, and out came a magazine.
The young girl gaped at the cover. A naked middle-
aged man lay bound face-down across a chair, his head
bent back to look into the camera. Over him stood a
thin brunette dressed in shiny black leather, holding a
riding crop bent between her hands and looking at her
captive with malicious intent. Ginny's heart began
pounding again, and she looked around the room to
reassure herself that she was alone. The teenager
flipped quickly through the pages. Letters, pictures,
stories, ads -- all about women dominating men. And the
men seem to love it. Look at this letter! Some guy's
writing that his mistress -- mistress!-- makes him
sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed, makes him
eat her pussy until his tongue cramps up, never lets
him fuck her, jerks him off sometimes if she feels like
it, and he thanks her for it! She found a picture
story. A man knelt on the floor of a bathroom, and a
tall woman in a leather garter belt, black stockings,
and black pumps with impossibly tall heels towered over
him. He kissed her shoes. She put one foot on the
toilet and pointed at her pussy. He licked her as she
curled her lip at him. She grabbed him by the hair and
ground his face into her cunt, twisting her mouth into
grimace of grotesque ecstasy. Satisfied for the moment,
she bent him over the toilet, sat on his back, and
slapped his bottom with her bare hand. Ginny turned the
page. A hairbrush had appeared from nowhere, and the
woman pounded the man's cheeks with it until they
darkened in the grainy black-and-white photographs. The
spread finished with a shot of the woman, still sitting
on the man, looking straight into the camera with an
expression of triumph as she masturbated with her legs
spread wide. The people were not good-looking, and
their poses and expressions were short of convincing;
the tawdry feeling excited the young girl immensely.
Her mouth was dry, but her pussy was more than moist.
She rubbed herself absently between her legs as she
turned the pages.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 9 - Pt. 1 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 9. - Part 2.
Ginny heard a noise in the street, and she quickly
restored the magazine to its place in the envelope,
noting the presence of at least one more as she slipped
it in. She jiggled the dresser back into position, and
dashed into her bedroom, running to listen at the
window. A car drove off, but after that she heard
nothing. The young girl lay on her bed and hugged
herself with her arms folded across her chest. False
alarm. That's OK. Gotta think... Who put those things
there? Couldn't be Mom. Dad? But he's so tough! Wait a
minute. What about that silky underwear? That's his for
sure, even though it doesn't go with his image. That
stuff's gotta be his. That mean that he's...he's like
the guys in the pictures! He wants women to push him
around. No, wait. Maybe both of them like it that way.
Maybe Mom dresses up like in the magazine and... Ginny
got a flash of her mom, dressed in shiny black leather,
spanking her father as he leaned across her lap. If
they both like to do that stuff, they'll have some
clothes, something that would give them away. Have I
looked everywhere? I thought I had, but it took me
until today to find the magazines. Ginny's pulse headed
back towards normal. I need to keep looking, mused the
girl, her hand returning to her crotch. She undid her
shorts and pushed them down her legs. She shoved her
panties aside and slipped two fingers between her pussy
lips. They emerged covered in slippery goo. Ginny
moaned as she tossed about on the bed, thinking of the
women in the magazine and the men they controlled.
* * *
Ginny stood in the center of her parent's bedroom,
looking around as she chewed on her index finger. Two
systematic searches had turned up nothing. She was
beginning to form a theory about her parents. Dad's
hiding the magazines from Mom, not just me. Otherwise
there'd be some kind of clue, a whip, a paddle, some
leather thing... That means Mom's not into it. Did Dad
ever ask her? Maybe he's ashamed of feeling that way.
So what's he do with the magazines? Just look at them
when Mom's not home? Nah, he's probably just like the
guys with their Penthouse mags, I'll bet he beats his
meat while he flips the pages. Is that what he does
those Saturday afternoons when Mom's out shopping and
he goes in the bedroom and locks the door? Is he lying
on the bed with a big ol' boner, just whacking off to
beat the band? The thought excited her, and she went in
her bedroom and brought herself off again, this time
thinking about her father.
* * *
Ginny sat in the passenger's seat of Jack's car after
school. The day was warm, but not warm enough to
explain the perspiration beading on the girl's forehead
and the spreading wetness under the arms of her thin
white blouse. Ginny smiled and waved distractedly at
some of her friends as they spread through the parking
lot; her fingers fluttered in her lap as she picked at
the dark-brown beach towel covering her legs to her
waist. Occasionally, when nobody was close, the girl
let a discreet whimper escape her lips, and her hips
twitched irregularly under the terry cloth. In the dark
under the towel, Jack crouched in the footwell and
serviced Ginny's pussy. He was very warm in the
enclosed space, and he could no longer sort out all the
sources of wetness around his face: the copious
emissions from Ginny's excited pussy, the girl's sweat
that covered her belly and soaked her thick black bush,
Jack's own perspiration, beading on his face and
dripping down his cheeks and dripping off his nose and
jaw onto the car seat between Ginny's legs, and the
moisture from Jack's aroused breathing. The boy's head
reeled from the intoxicating smells: pencil shavings,
urine, musk, and sweat. The muscles at the base of his
tongue ached from the effects of his earnest and
persistent efforts to satisfy the teenager. She had
already come twice, and seemed to be in no hurry for
the third orgasm: she'd whispered twice for him to slow
down. Slowly, the girl climbed up to another climax;
her stomach muscles convulsed deeply and she swallowed
a gasp. As she came down she slumped further in the
seat and pressed lightly on the back of Jack's head;
the boy obediantly worked his tongue between buttocks
slick with pussy drippings and lapped at Ginny's
asshole, slack and loose after the repeated stimulation
of her clitoris. The boy knew what she wanted; he
worked his tongue deep inside.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 9.
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 10. - Part 1.
On Monday, Bobby came straight home from school, went
upstairs, and came down dressed in panties greatly
distorted by his anticipatory arousal. Pamela met him
in the living room and pointed at the floor. Bobby
knelt, looking confused. Pamela put both hands at her
waist, flat, palms down. Bobby lay on his back. She
stood over his shoulders and prepared him: "There are
two things that are different today, Bobby. First, I'm
not wearing any panties. Second, I want you to be more
active than before. In a minute, I'll sit on your face
and press my anus against your lips. I want you to open
them and lick me as deeply and as thoroughly as you
can. I've been running around all day and I feel dirty,
especially there. I want you to clean me up with your
tongue. Do you understand?"
Bobby replied in the affirmative as his prick
twitched in anticipation. Pamela noted both answers as
she squatted over her nephew's face. She put her hands
on his chest for balance, and lowered herself until her
asshole just grazed his lips. Bobby took in her sharp,
dark odor, then tentatively licked just outside her
brown ring. She was a little greasy there, and moist
with perspiration. He lapped in decreasing circles
until he was licking at the center of Pamela's bottom
hole. She pressed downwards slightly, and Bobby tried
to push his tongue inside. He felt her springy ridges
pulsating gently, now opening to admit him, now closing
and squeezing his tongue back out. Pamela relaxed her
sphincter as she applied more pressure. Soon she had
most of her weight on Bobby's face except when she let
up so he could breathe. When she sat down on him, she
relaxed completely, and Bobby could push his tongue
into her serrated channel and lick at the soft, slick
walls. The darkness made it easier for Bobby to
concentrate on the way she smelled, tasted, and felt.
She made him lick her for a long time; the muscles at
the base of Bobby's tongue ached.
Pamela reached forward and held Bobby's prick
through his panties. She spoke slowly, sternly: "Bobby,
usually I'm very careful to use the right words. I'm
going to be careful now, but the right words for what's
about to happen are different from the words I usually
use with you. The words I need now are the words that
will help your humility."
Pamela paused, then continued in a hard,
commanding voice: "Bobby, lick my ass. Get that tongue
up my asshole." She began to slap his prick lightly
through the cloth, forcing it first to one side, then
the other. "Lick me where I shit, Bobby. Put your
tongue up in that dirty, slimy place. Lick it clean,
Bobby, and swallow it down." She saw him begin to
tremble, and she returned to stroking him. "Lick my
brown hole, Bobby. You love it. You love to lick my
tight little asshole, don't you? You like to get your
tongue up where my shit comes down. I'll bet you'd like
me to fill your mouth right now." Bobby lost in the
heady combination of humiliation and stimulation,
spasmed and squirted, covering his belly with hot jism
that soaked through the panties. Pamela rubbed Bobby's
cock through the newly-slick cloth as it softened, then
shifted her position so her pussy was over Bobby's
mouth. She whispered urgently, "It's time to thank me
for being so nice to you."
Ignoring the discomfort of his throbbing tongue,
Bobby licked his aunt's clitoris until she enjoyed
several powerful orgasms.
With some effort, Pamela restrained herself from
allowing a breakdown like Saturday's. She groaned and
grunted as she came, but merely patted Bobby's head
afterwards, treating him like a particularly obedient
dog.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch.10 - Pt. 1 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 10. - Part 2.
For the rest of the week, right after school Bobby
licked Pamela's asshole until his tongue was sore.
After that, she would sometimes make him stand in front
of her and would pat his cock first from one side and
then the other, gradually increasing the strength of
the blows until his stiff prick bounced violently back
and forth. She would keep up the slapping until he came
in his panties. Sometimes she would make him lower his
panties to his knees and would fist his cock back and
forth until he filled her hand with his juices, which
she then transferred to his face. Once, she ignored his
need for release and sent him off to do his homework.
Each day, Bobby finished his time with her in adoration
of her pussy. She grew greedier each time, forcing him
to suck her for longer and longer. Bobby gloried in
being the instrument of her satisfaction.
* * *
The next Monday, Pamela wasn't in the house when Bobby
came home from school. Bobby called for her several
times, then went up to his room, changed into his
panties, and began to do his homework. After about half
an hour, he heard the front door open. He started down
the stairs, meeting Pamela on the landing.
"Sorry I'm late, Bobby," she said breathlessly.
"I'm still trying to sell that industrial tract north
of town and we had these bigwigs in from Detroit. God,
what turkeys. One of them actually tried to make a pass
at me. He got into the car and sat with his leg pressed
up against mine. I just looked at him hard until he
blushed and moved away. He looked like a little kid
caught with his hand in the cookie jar! Sometimes men
are just boys..." She paused to rub Bobby's half-hard
prick. "...but some boys are men."
She collected herself and continued in a less-
conspiratorial, more cool and distant tone. "Bobby, I
need to change out of these clothes. I think that you
should be my chambermaid this afternoon. I'll bet
you'll like that, and you may learn something. Follow
me."
Pamela led the way to her bedroom. She opened the
closet door, and turned her back on Bobby, saying,
"Take off my jacket and hang it up." Bobby pulled her
suit jacket over her shoulders and down her arms,
revealing a medium-weight white silk blouse, damp with
perspiration down the middle of her back. He noticed
rings of moisture, faintly tinged with yellow, around
her armpits.
She turned around and pointed at the floor. Bobby
knelt, and she stood on one leg, holding her foot out
to him. He carefully removed one pump, then the other.
She turned to one side and indicated the buttons on her
skirt. Bobby undid them, then lowered the zipper,
catching Pamela's skirt before it hit the floor. She
stepped out of the garment and Bobby went to hang it in
the closet. When he returned, she pushed him to his
knees again, and pointed at the waistband of her white
half-slip. Bobby deliberately tugged the garment across
her belly and down her legs. She moved out of the cloud
of white nylon, and told Bobby to go to the bathroom
and put it in the hamper. Bobby had never been in her
bathroom before, and he sniffed the air and looked
around as he crossed the threshold. There were many
strange-looking bottles and jars on the counter, but
aside from that it seemed pretty normal to him. Vaguely
disappointed that her private room hadn't been more
exotic, he returned to the bedroom, where Pamela was
still standing.
She smiled at him ruefully. "Now we have to get
rid of these awful pantyhose. I really don't know why I
wear these things -- that's not true, I wear them
because they're quick and easy, but they're even worse
than stockings of a hot day like this. No, wait a
minute -- before you take them off, there's one think I
want to do... Bobby, sit down here with your back to
the bed. That's good, now slouch down a bit and rest
your head on the mattress. Now just stay there."
Pamela knelt on the bed with one leg on either
side of Bobby, and lowered her doubly-covered pussy to
Bobby's face. Pumping her hips and bearing down, she
slid the slick material back and forth across his nose
and lips. "Lick me, Bobby," she urged, "See if you can
make a dent in these things."
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 10. - Part 3.
Bobby was intoxicated by the scent of Pamela's
sweaty, smelly pussy, and he tried manfully to lick it,
but the taut nylon mesh frustrated him. Pamela let him
work at it for a few minutes before she pulled away to
stand over him. "I think you'd better get these off
now, Bobby, " she directed. Bobby raised his arms to
her waist, pushing his hands under her blouse. He
dragged her pantyhose down her legs, knocking her
bikini panties slightly askew in the process so a tuft
of dark brown pubic hair was visible at the waistline.
He lay back and pulled as she lifted one leg at a time.
She held out her arms and Bobby unbuttoned the sleeves
of her blouse.
Pamela pulled Bobby to his feet and stood before
him expectantly. He raised his hands to her throat and
began to unbutton her blouse. She stared at him
solemnly as he worked his way down her belly. The
garment hung from her shoulders and Bobby gazed at as
much of her light nylon brassiere as he could see. She
shrugged her way out of her shirt and caught it as it
fell from her arms. She fumbled with the blouse for a
moment, found one armpit, and rubbed Bobby's face with
the slick damp cloth. Her acrid aroma clung to his
lips.
And now," she said with an arch expression, "I
want you to take off my brassiere."
Bobby was acutely conscious of the fact that he'd
never seen his aunt's breasts in the flesh, although
he'd certainly spent a lot of time imagining what
they'd look like. His hands trembled as he reached for
the clasp in the valley between them. Awkwardly, he
freed the catch and pushed the cloth to the side.
Pamela's breasts were everything he hoped: full, with
just enough sag to be sensual, large brown aureola
topped with stiff nipples, and a few blue veins running
back and forth. His hands trembled even more as they
resisted the urge to cradle his aunt's warm, soft
boobs.
Pamela saw the look of hunger in her nephew's
eyes, and it quickened her already-rapid heartbeat. She
took a half-step backward. "There's just one thing,"
she purred, "that keeps me from being naked." Bobby
knelt before her and reached for the waistband. She
gently slapped his hands away. "Put your face right
here," she said as she moved his head so that his nose
hovered over her pubic mound, "And take them off
slowly."
Bobby pulled down Pamela's panties, watching her
public hair spring up as the waistband uncovered it. As
he pulled the elastic past his nose, her hair leapt up
to tickle it. Her smells were intoxicating. He didn't
move his face even when Pamela's pants were at her
ankles. She stood there for several minutes, loving the
feeling of having Bobby on his knees with his nose in
her pubic hair. She knew he urgently wanted to kiss and
lick her, but that he was too well trained. She took
pride in knowing that the training was all her doing,
that she had created this delicious situation.
At last, she stepped back, kicking her panties
into Bobby's stomach. "Hang the clothes up," she said
languidly as she lay down on the bed, "Then come back
here."
After a minute, Bobby returned from the bathroom,
his prick making its usual immense protuberance in his
panties. Pamela never grew tired of looking at him this
way. I wonder why men's fashion designers don't make
their clothes with something limp and frilly over their
cocks, she thought. Probably because all the big-time
designers are men. They stick us women with all that
junk; I'd like to see what would happen if the shoe
were on the other foot.
Bobby paused at the end of the bed. Pamela eyed
him contentedly from her reclining position. "You know,
Bobby," she began, "Some chambermaids stop after
undressing their mistresses."
"But sometimes their mistress wants a little extra
personal attention. When that happens, the best
chambermaids give extra service. I'd like some extra
service right now. I feel hot and sweaty, and I'd like
you to soothe me with your tongue. You can start with
my feet."
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch.10 - Pt. 3 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 10. - Part 4.
Bobby knelt at the foot of the bed, and laid his
upper body down on the spread. Pamela moved one of her
feet close to his head. He held her ankle gently in
both hands, paused in momentary confusion, then pressed
his lips to the ball of her foot. What a natural,
thought Pamela; sometimes he needs hardly any direction
at all.
Bobby kissed Pamela's foot softly. She smelled of
leather and perspiration; the combination was
delightful. He licked at the sole of her feet. His
tongue tickled Pamela a bit; she clenched and
unclenched her toes and bit her lip at the intensity of
the delicious feeling. "The toes, Bobby, " she prompted
after a minute or so.
He paused with his lips pressed against the tips
of her toes. Pamela instructed him: "Take each toe in
your mouth and suck on it. Lick me between my toes."
She basked in satisfaction as he obeyed. She pushed her
other foot at him, and he treated it as well as he had
the first one.
"Now lick up my legs," she sighed. Bobby worked
his way slowly and thoroughly over her ankles, calves,
and knees. He licked her thighs, and after a while she
spread her legs, allowing him access to the tender skin
at the very top of her inner thighs. He started to lick
her cunt. "Uh-uh," she demurred, "Skip that part and
start again just below my navel." Bobby reluctantly
moved away from her pussy and scooted up on the bed so
he could kiss the delicate skin between her belly
button and her pubic hair. He worked his way up her
ribcage, and licked the damp, yielding place on the
underside of her breast where it curled under to meet
her ribs. He started to kiss the breast itself, but she
stopped him and rolled on her side so he could lick
under her arm. She was slick and spicy there, with a
faint bitter taste. "Sorry about the deodorant," she
apologized, "I have to wear it when I go out on
business."
"One Saturday when I don't have to work I won't
put any of that stuff on, then I'll go play tennis or
work in the yard until I'm real smelly, then I'll make
you lick me clean. Would you like that, Bobby? Would
you like me to hold your face in my armpit until I'm
bored with you?"
"Mmm-uh," Bobby replied in the affirmative as best
he could while still lapping away. Pamela rolled over
and presented Bobby with her other armpit, which he
attacked enthusiastically.
Pamela lay back as Bobby kissed her neck, ears,
and forehead. He was now lying fully on top of his
aunt. Her legs were slightly spread, and he could feel
her pubic mound against his belly, just below his
navel. He wriggled up a little more, and felt his cock
pressing against her cunt, restrained only by his
panties. Pamela recognized the possibility for things
to get out of hand, but was confident that she could
control her nephew. In fact, she was eager to put Bobby
to this kind of test. She knew that he would like more
than anything in the world to fuck her, and she knew
that he was probably thinking that he might get his
chance now. She let him think about it as he kissed her
cheek.
When he paused with his mouth inches from hers,
she stopped him by saying softly, "Bobby, would you
like to kiss me?"
What a question! Bobby stuttered as he replied,
"Y...yes ma'am."
"Well you can't. At least not now. But I like
knowing that you want to." A pause, lips still poised,
but apart, then, even more softly and seductively:
"Bobby, would you like to make love to me?"
"Oh yes, Aunt Pamela, yes!"
"You can't do that either. Maybe someday, but not
today." She spread her legs wider, raised her knees,
and hooked her ankles over Bobby's calves. She tensed
her muscles, pressing her cunt against Bobby's groin,
and said fiercely, "But I love knowing that you want to
put your big, stiff penis inside my warm, wet vagina."
She pushed Bobby abruptly away from her and rolled
onto her stomach. "Start on my back," she said in a
distant tone, "And work down."
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 10. - Part 5.
Bobby was flabbergasted by the transition. His
hormones were raging, and he wanted desperately to pull
his cock out of the silly panties and shove it between
his aunt's gorgeous, sexy legs. But she had too much
power over him. He didn't think in terms of the long-
term consequences, he just knew that he had to do what
she said. Numbly, he bent over her and kissed and
licked his way down her back. When he arrived at her
buttocks, he got on all fours and buried his face in
her firm, springy pillows, kissing and biting her
gently. She spread her legs to allow him access to the
crack of her ass. He licked a path down her fragrant
valley; her aroma grew stronger as he progressed. As he
tasted her damp, oily asshole, she thrust her hips
backwards toward him. "Yes, Bobby," She hissed through
her teeth, "Lick me there, right there!" Bobby feasted
on her dark, sweet essence.
After a long time, she rolled over away from
Bobby, and lay on her back with her arms crossed behind
her head. Bobby stayed frozen on his hands and knees,
wondering what was coming now.
"Bobby," she said calmly, "A chambermaid helps
her, uh, his mistress with whatever she needs, not just
in the bedroom, but in the bathroom, too."
"Yes'm?"
"I need to urinate now, and you can help me."
"Yes'm."
"Follow me."
Pamela led Bobby into the bathroom, and pointed at
the commode. "Raise the seat, Bobby."
Bobby complied, then stood back waiting.
"On your knees."
Bobby knelt in front of the toilet.
"Is it clean?"
"Um, I think so, ma'am."
"Put your nose in there and find out."
Bobby leaned his face over the toilet bowl and
inhaled, then said, "It's clean, Aunt Pamela."
Bobby straightened up and Pamela scissored her
legs over Bobby, seating herself on the seat facing
him. She spread her knees about a foot. "Take a good
look, Bobby," she told him. She inhaled deeply, waited
for a few seconds, then her yellow piss gushed into the
bowl, filling Bobby's nostrils with its delicate
pungency. Her stream became intermittent, and she
finished up with two short spurts.
"One of the most important duties of the
chambermaid," she said seriously, "Is to handle the
toilet paper." She glanced over at the roll, and Bobby
hesitantly tore off a few sheets. She spread her legs
fractionally, and Bobby reached between them and patted
her pussy perhaps a little longer than absolutely
necessary.
Pamela put her hand on his wrist. "Smell it," she
said, "That's a part of me too." Bobby brought the
small white bundle to his face and sniffed. He thought
that any part of Aunt Pamela smelled wonderful, and
this was no exception. He smiled and returned the paper
to the toilet bowl.
Pamela stood up and stepped over him, flinging,
"Flush it," over her shoulder as she left.
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 10. - Part 6.
When Bobby came back to the bedroom, Pamela was once
again lying on her bed. "I want you between my legs,"
she said simply, counting on him to carry out her
wishes.
Bobby knelt at the end of the bed and lay his body
on the covers, moving his face between Pamela's thighs
as she spread her knees to accommodate him. He found
her sweet, hairy cunt; it was dripping with honey.
Bobby lapped up as much as he could, then played gently
with his aunt's clitoris. She closed her legs around
his head, shutting off the light. Bobby labored in his
dark, perfumed prison for an hour, giving Pamela
several intense orgasms.
Afterwards, she made him get on the bed on all
fours, and pulled his panties down to his knees. She
licked her fingers, and put two of them up her nephew's
pink asshole, finding him more open than usual. She
added a third, and started to stroke his cock gently.
Bobby moaned with pleasure. Wanting to see how far she
could go, Pamela put the tips of all four fingers of
her right hand together, and pressed them against
Bobby's rosebud. They slipped in an inch or so, and
Bobby groaned with a different inflection. Pamela bore
down harder, and drove her fingers in up to the second
knuckles. Bobby's moans took on a slight whimpering
quality. She fucked his asshole with her right hand and
pulled on his cock with her left until he shot his come
into the crotch of his panties. Pamela gave her fingers
a nasty little twist and withdrew them. Bobby's asshole
closed slowly. She pulled his panties up over his hips
and slapped them gently where they were wet with his
come, then dismissed him.
* * *
On a trip to Cedar Rapids for a track meet, Ginny saw a
charity-run second-hand clothing store that looked
promising. Pleading illness, she ducked out of the meet
and drove back to the store, where a smiling, grand
motherly lady helped her pick out a tight, short, black
leather skirt, a black lace garter belt, and a pair of
black patent-leather pumps with nice high heels. Ginny
stuffed the shopping bag in the trunk behind the spare
tire, intending to retrieve it when she got home. As
she drove back to the track, she marveled at how easy
it had been. The saleswoman hadn't even raised an
eyebrow.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 10. Continued soon!!
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 1.
"Can you factor that, Bobby?"
"Lemme see... Yeah, is that right?"
"Exactly. Has your teacher said anything since I
started to help you with math?"
"No, but she doesn't call on me in class anymore
unless I have my hand up. I guess I've gotten off her
hit list. She's like a wolf -- as soon as she smells
blood, she's all over you. I guess she doesn't smell
any blood on me now."
Pamela leaned over Bobby's shoulder and pointed at
the book. "Do that one," she said and rested her hand
on his arm.
Bobby started to work the problem, but he was
distracted by Pamela's soft touch. He looked confused.
"What's wrong, Bobby," Pamela asked, "You've done
that kind of problem before."
"I know, Aunt Pamela, but I can't think very well
when you touch me like that."
"You mean that just my hand on your biceps keeps
you from thinking about your homework?"
Bobby, slightly abashed, merely replied, "Yes'm."
Pamela's tone became a little colder. "Well,
Bobby, I think there's another kind on discipline that
we need to work on. I want you to do that problem right
there, and I don't want you to be distracted by
anything I do."
Bobby bent to his paper. He wrote:
8x=x^2+x-228
Pamela stood behind Bobby and unbuttoned her
blouse. She dangled it over Bobby's shoulders,
caressing him lightly with the silky material, which
had captured the scent of her perfume. Bobby wrenched
his mind back to his task. Lemme see, he thought, first
let's get everything on one side...
0=x^2+7x-228
"Wrong sign," Pamela chided him as she unhooked
her brassiere and threw it on Bobby's bed where he
could see it.
"Oh, yeah," Bobby said dully as he struggled for
comprehension, "How's this?"
0=x^2-7x-228
"That's better," Pamela whispered as she touched
the nipple of her left breast to Bobby's right
shoulder. Bobby jerked slightly at the contact, then
returned to his original position and moved his
shoulder up and down fractionally. He stared at the
equation. Can I factor that? Shit, I can't think
straight enough for that. Gotta do something simple. He
wrote:
x=(-b+/-sqrt(b^2-4ac))/2a
Pamela leaned over the back of Bobby's chair,
pressing both of her breasts against him. He smelled
the tang of her perspiration. He was acutely aware that
he had never seem her breasts, had dreamed of them
night after night, and now they were pressing against
him and he didn't dare turn around to look. He went
blank. Pamela moved slowly against him. He fought for
the thread, found it, and laboriously made the
substitutions:
x=(-(-7)+/-sqrt(7^2-4(1)(-228))/(2(1))
Bobby reached for his calculator while Pamela
contented herself with resting one hand on Bobby's
neck. He looked off into space. Pamela prompted him
with an insistent, "Bobby...". He worked through the
rest:
x=(7+/-31)/2=38/2,-24/2=19,12
"You could have factored that," Pamela pointed out
in a flat voice. "Now that one."
It was a long evening for Bobby. When he was done
with his drill, Pamela put her clothes back on while he
faced his desk. When she let him turn around, she
looked at him critically. She touched the head of his
cock through his panties, commenting, "You're very wet
there, Bobby. I think this will be a hard lesson for
you, but a good one. You need to thank me."
Pamela removed her panties and placed them in
Bobby's pillowcase with the other pair. She sat on the
bed, spread her legs slightly beneath her skirt, and
pointed to the floor in front of her. When Bobby knelt
in the appointed place, she lifted her skirt slightly.
Bobby put his head underneath, moving eagerly towards
her hot, dark, wetness. She put her hands on the back
of his head through her skirt, and pressed downwards
firmly, Bobby suckled and lapped in aromatic blackness
until Pamela achieved several orgasms. Feeling
contented and powerful, she put him to bed unsatisfied.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 1 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 2.
Pamela lay on her back on her bed, her legs spread wide
and her feet braced against the covers. Bobby stood
above her, watching as her pussy oozed sticky juices.
"Come on, Bobby," Pamela pleaded, "You know I need it."
"You know how much I want you to fuck me with that big
cock of yours. Please, stretch me out, fill me up. My
cunt is aching for your prick."
Bobby stroked his staff and smiled down at her.
"Don't worry, Aunt Pamela, I'll fuck you real good.
You'll walk funny for the rest of the day."
"Fuck me now, Bobby. I can't wait any longer."
Bobby knelt between Pamela's legs and rubbed his
cock against her clitoris. She moaned and pleaded with
him. Taking his time, he pushed down on his cock until
the head slipped inside her pussy, then he slowly drove
it in all the way. Pamela gasped, and wrapped her legs
around him so she could pull him closer. Bobby pumped
his hips back and forth roughly as Pamela groaned and
whimpered underneath him. She came almost immediately,
clinging to him and screaming. Bobby fucked her like a
machine, forcing her to orgasm after orgasm. She was
drenched in her own sweat -- it formed beads on her
face and pooled between her breasts and on her belly --
but Bobby stayed cool and calm. Finally, when Pamela
was exhausted, and could barely hold on to Bobby's
muscular arms, he shot great gobs of come into her,
filling up her cunt and giving her one last orgasm. She
fainted...
...And Bobby woke up. He found himself lying on
his stomach with his face in the pillow, Pamela's scent
in his nostrils, and a sticky pool of jism under his
hips. Shit! Just a dream. It had seemed so real...
* * *
The light snapped on, temporarily blinding Bobby.
Pamela walked quickly to his bedside, pulled the covers
down, and sat beside him. Bobby lay on his back and
rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His aunt's fingers
fumbled with the waistband of his panties, pulled them
down and tucked them beneath his balls. The waistband
didn't want to stretch that far, and the band felt
constraining. "I'm getting you up early this morning,
Bobby," said Pamela calmly. "I think you need to do an
extra hour of homework before breakfast."
Bobby protested weakly, but Pamela put her finger
to her lips and he lapsed into silence as she
continued. "I also think that you've been too sexually
excited for your own good." Pamela fingered Bobby's
semi-hard cock evaluatively. "Perhaps I've made a
mistake in that regard, and it's made it harder for you
to concentrate. In any event, I've decided to relieve
your sexual tensions more often." Bobby's dick hardened
rapidly under Pamela's cool touch; she began to stroke
him smoothly and rhythmically. "You will continue to
refrain from touching yourself, of course." Her hand
gripped Bobby's prick firmly as she fisted him. "Maybe
you'll be able to concentrate better. What do you
think?"
"I dunno, Aunt Pamela," the boy replied vaguely.
He felt pressure at the root of his cock, and wasn't
thinking clearly about anything.
"Well, we'll give it a try," his aunt said as she
lengthened her strokes, squeezing the head a bit harder
and twisting her hand over it. That was all it took to
put Bobby over the edge. He filled Pamela's palm with
cream as she twirled her fingers around the crown of
his cock. She wiped her hand on his chest and left the
room without a further word.
* * *
When Bobby came home from school, Pamela invited him
into her bedroom. There, amidst the smells of her
perfume and the sight of her silky underwear scattered
about, she sat fully clothed on the bed and jerked him
off while asking him about his classes. She showed no
interest in his obvious excitement. When Bobby came
with a groan, Pamela cupped her free hand over his cock
to contain the emission, and sent him off to study.
* * *
Before dinner, Pamela called to Bobby from the hall. He
appeared at the door of his room, eyes slightly
unfocused from staring at his work. His aunt crooked
her finger and stepped into the bathroom. Bobby
shuffled after her.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 2 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 3.
Pamela positioned Bobby in front of the sink, and
stood behind him as she tugged his panties to his
knees. She groped through one of the drawers, found
some lotion, and spread it on her hand. She pressed her
lightweight wool skirt against his bare backside,
reached around, and slipped her slick fingers up and
down his limp dick. It didn't stay limp for long.
Pamela quizzed Bobby on geography until he shot his
load in the sink.
* * *
At bedtime, Pamela made Bobby pull his panties down and
stand by the bed as she sat on his desk chair and
silently manipulated his now-red cock. He took longer
to come this time. Pamela caught his semen in her hand
and examined it critically. There wasn't much, and it
seemed lumpy. She nodded to herself, wiped her hands on
Bobby's panties, and sent him to bed.
* * *
And so it went. For the next week Pamela masturbated
Bobby four times a day, never showing any emotion other
than a cool, distant, solicitude. She took to using a
thick lubricant mixed with various things she found
around the house: dry tea, ground coffee, black pepper
corns, Grape-nuts, uncooked rice, and unpopped popcorn.
Nothing was wholly satisfactory: the cereal got too
soggy; the popcorn and the rice weren't quite sharp
enough; the coffee was messy. The dry tea worked the
best. Pamela particularly liked Formosan Oolong -- the
little leaves twisted themselves into tight curls with
nice sharp edges -- but even they softened unacceptably
during the prolonged sessions that the woman forced on
her nephew. And she was always finding a stray piece of
something around, even though she made Bobby clean up
after she finished him off. She had a hard time
correlating the feeling of the abrasives against her
fingers with what Bobby felt, and she couldn't ask him
without destroying the wall that she had temporarily
built between them: he had to believe that she was a
cold, superior being, who knew his every emotion and
sensation before he did, who toyed with him and used
him expertly for her own satisfaction. Pamela continued
her experiments with hard, sharp bits while jerking her
nephew off, varying her approach so Bobby would never
know quite what to expect. The little grains dug into
the boy's cock, giving him acutely exciting feelings,
but leaving him raw and sore.
* * *
Bobby had rammed his desk chair into the wall, leaving
an ugly scrape. Pamela was cross: she thought the boy
had been careless, and showed a lack of respect. He'd
have to repaint it, but that wouldn't be enough;
somehow she'd make him pay, and pay dearly, for his
heedless ways. The older woman was in the garage
looking for paint that matched the bedroom latex, and
her eye fell on a box of rock salt. Suddenly excited,
she pulled it down from the shelf and sifted the coarse
grains through her fingers. The box was huge, so she
went into the house, got a one-quart measuring cup, and
filled it halfway with the milky-white crystals. It
took her a while longer to find the paint; still, she
felt the search a success -- she had a nasty little
smile on her face as she re-entered the house.
Bobby had become acutely attuned to his aunt's
mood, and he was worried. The anger he could deal with,
but that look on her face nearly always meant trouble
for him.
Pamela hovered over her nephew as he repaired the
damage, keeping up a constant, crabby stream of
suggestions and advice. She was feeling bitchy, and
knowing what she was going to do about it didn't seem
to take the edge off. "Don't get any paint on your
panties, young man, if you know what's good for you,"
she nagged. "And clean those brushes real good, you
hear?"
When Bobby returned to his room after cleaning up
and putting everything away, his aunt was sitting on
his bed, a tube of gel at her side, sifting her fingers
through the rock salt. Bobby recognized the lubricant,
so he knew the rough outlines of what was about to
happen to him. He figured that the whitish substance in
the measuring cup was going to play a prominent role in
his fate, but he had no idea what the stuff was or what
it would feel like.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 3 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 4.
"On the bed, Robert," the older woman said evenly.
Robert! This had to be serious. In spite of his
trepidation, his cock reach full-stand. It had started
to stiffen the minute he'd seen the lotion, much to the
boy's embarrassment. It was demeaning how much at least
part of him looked forward to the sweet torture that
his aunt visited upon him.
Pamela didn't move from her position on the bed,
forcing the boy to crawl awkwardly around her. She
leaned over him as he lay flat on his back. "Panties at
mid-thigh," she ordered. Bobby raised his hips and
pushed his underwear part way down his legs. His
erection was a humiliating confession of how he felt
about his punishment. "A little higher," she corrected.
He pulled the garment up an inch or so. For some
reason, he got turned on by his aunt's prissy little
corrections, and when she feeling picky it could take a
long time before he was in just the right state to
receive his castigation. "Hands at your sides," she
instructed.
Bobby examined her stern face as he complied. No,
he wasn't going to get off easy this time. He wished he
knew what was in the measuring cup.
"Feet together, Bobby," she said in an aggrieved
tone. "Do I have to go through the whole thing every
time?"
Bobby pressed his ankles tightly against each
other. Some perverse instinct wanted to provoke his
aunt. He let his knees fall about an inch apart.
"Knees, too." This was too much. "You know better
than this." Pamela got up, went to Bobby's desk, and
tore a sheet of paper off his tablet. Returning to her
precious place, she put just the bottom inch or so of
the paper between the boy's knees. "Now clamp that
sheet tight, Bobby. If I see it fall, you're going to
be even sorrier."
Pamela ran her hand over the boy's rigid body,
checking to make sure he was in the precise posture for
her to work her ways on him. "Now remember, Bobby, keep
your eyes on my face the whole time," she said as she
picked up the tube.
Bobby watched as his aunt squeezed a generous
amount of the clear gel into one palm. She rubbed her
hands together to distribute the lotion evenly, then
she gently gripped his prick in both hands. "Are you
sorry?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am."
She moved her hands slowly up and down, squeezing
and releasing. "Sorry isn't good enough, Bobby. You
have to have discipline. It has to be important to
you."
"Yes ma'am." Her chastising words combined with
her erotic touch to send him a wonderfully mixed
message.
"I want you to think of how you can be more
careful in the future, Bobby." She was now masturbating
him smoothly and deftly with her right hand while she
dipped the other into the measuring cup.
"What's that, Aunt Pamela?" asked the boy.
"You'll like it, Bobby," she purred. "It'll feel
real good." She held her nephew's prick lightly between
the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, keeping him
engaged while she covered the right one with hard
little crystals. She wrapped both hands around his
stiff cock, and looked at him significantly. He still
didn't know what the white stuff was, but he could see
the grains clinging to his aunt's hands, and he knew he
was in for something special. She held her pose for a
long time...
...then squeezed her hands together and slid them
roughly down the length of her nephew's helpless
member. The sharp edges of the salt crystals bit into
the soft flesh. Bobby let out a little squeal. "Shut
up, Bobby," Pamela commanded. "I'm not impressed with
your whimperings, do you understand? A little pain will
be good for you. Maybe you won't be so slovenly after
this." The older woman began to work on the boy's glans
as he bit his lower lip. She gauged the effect from the
depth of the furrows on his brow, moderating her
friction so she kept the boy right at the edge between
painful pleasure and just plain pain.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 4 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 5.
As the punishment wore on, Pamela began to realize
that Bobby was flinching whenever her hands flicked
over the very end of his cock, whether or not there was
any real friction involved. Puzzled, the woman paused
with her forefinger right on the little slit. "Does
this hurt?" she asked.
"Oh yes, Aunt Pamela. It burns."
"Where?"
"Just inside the little hole."
"In your urethra?"
"Uh, I guess so."
Of course! The salt dissolves in the lubricant,
gets inside, and irritates the tissues. This was an
unexpected bonus. "Oh poor baby," Pamela cooed
sarcastically. She removed one hand long enough to spit
in the palm, then rubbed some salt into the wet place
from the heel of her other hand. With a nasty smirk,
she applied the wet, salty palm to the head of her
nephew's dick. Bobby stiffened satisfyingly. "Oh, oh,"
she mocked. "Is his little pee-pee tender? Does it
twinge and burn? I'm so sorry. Maybe he'll be a good
little boy next time." The woman began to stroke the
shaft regularly with her right hand while she used the
left to made sure the slit stayed wet. "You can
ejaculate now, Bobby," she announced. She turned the
sarcasm back on. "Of course, this probably hurts you so
much that you don't even want to. No, sir. This doesn't
excite you at all. Just your aunt being mean to you." A
fountain of semen exploded from the boy's cock; each
spurt burned. "I guess I was wrong," said Pamela,
picking up her things and leaving Bobby lying in his
come.
* * *
Bobby walked into the kitchen, where Pamela was busy at
the counter. "Want some walnuts?" she asked, "I've just
shelled a few."
"Please," replied the boy.
Pamela put a small pile of nut meats on a salad
plate and gave it to Bobby.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said with confused
surprise. Pamela never let him snack in the afternoon.
He stood at her side and watched her take a piece of
cheese cloth and wrap it around the walnut shells. She
set the cloth bundle on the chopping block and hit it
once with the meat tenderizing mallet. Bobby recoiled
slightly at the cracking sound. Pamela hummed to
herself as she hammered on the walnut shells, opening
the cloth from time to time to check on the consistency
of the fragments. The humming worried Bobby. His aunt
had never had a sunny personality, and here she was
acting like Doris Day in some old movie. Oh, well, he
thought as he ate the last walnut, I'll probably find
out soon enough why she's so bubbly.
Right after dinner, he did.
* * *
When Pamela was at the supermarket, she got the idea:
Gloves! How perfect! The selection on the rack wasn't
quite what she wanted, so she visited several hardware
and grocery stores until she found a pair of thin
yellow dishwashing gloves with prominent gripping bumps
on the fingers and the heel of the hand, and a black
sandpaper-like area in the palm for scouring pans. Once
she bought them, she couldn't wait until she got home,
so, as she sat in her car in the parking lot, she
pulled the gloves out of their plastic wrapping and
touched the palms. The coarse abrasive felt rough,
sharp, and rubbery all at the same time. The little
bumps felt like hundreds of tiny fingers, on close
inspection, they were rectangular, about a quarter as
wide as they were long, with edges which, while still
rubbery, bit into her cheek as she rubbed the glove
against it. Aren't those bumps just perfect! Just the
thing for keeping the soapy glass from slipping out of
your hands. Just the thing for Bobby's helpless penis.
To turn him on, and to make him all red and sore at the
same time. What nice little nubbins! She wondered how
they'd feel on her clit (why should the boy have all
the attention?) but pushed the urge aside. Reluctantly,
she started the car and drove home.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 5 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 6.
In spite of her good intentions, Pamela couldn't wait.
She lay on her bed with her dress around her waist and
her panties pulled aside, running her gloved middle
finger slowly up and down her crotch. She perfected a
long stroke that started with a full insertion of her
digit in her sloppy-wet vagina. Her oily secretions
clung to the nubs so when she slowly pulled her finger
out and ran the length of it over her sensitive inner
lips and her stiff clit the little knobs flicked
against her flesh, then quickly slipped on, only to be
replaced by the next set of nodules. Pamela sucked in
her breath sharply. She was sure that the same
instrument of her pleasure could, with much heavier
pressure, provide hours of sweet torture to her young
charge.
She heard the door open. At last! She'd give Bobby
a few minutes to get changed into his panties, then
she'd give him the first of his new treatments.
Luckily, she had something agreeable to do in the
meantime. The tiny nubs rubbed her secret places...
* * *
Bobby jumped as his door opened. He could tell
something was different from the expression of savage
anticipation on his aunt's face, even before he saw
what she had on her hands. She pointed at the bed, and
Bobby wordlessly assumed the proper position: flat on
his back, arms tightly against his ribs, hands flat on
the coverlet, legs and feet together. Pamela sat next
to him, and carefully laid her soiled panties and the
tube of lubricant on the spread. A grim little smile
played about her mouth as she pulled at the wristbands
of the gloves, unnecessarily making sure there were
absolutely no wrinkles, and letting them go so they
snapped back with an impressive pop. She leaned forward
and ran her knobbed fingers over her nephew's face,
squeezing and sliding so he'd know just what was in
store for him. He caught a whiff of her musk from when
she had been pleasuring herself.
She was pretty sure he hadn't noticed the palms
when she put the gloves on -- she'd kept them away from
his sight as much as she could -- so she used just the
little rubber knobs as she slipped her hands over his
face and neck. Then, watching carefully for the boy's
reaction, she placed her palm flat against Bobby's
cheek, pressed, and pulled her hand down his jaw line.
He jumped at the raw, scraping sensation. Pamela
inspected his cheek; it was slightly, but noticeably,
reddened.
While her nephew was still dealing with the
implications of what had happened to his face, Pamela
squeezed a generous helping of gel into one palm and
rubbed her hands together, spreading the slippery goo
evenly. Bobby's eyes widened as she flipped down his
panties and reached for his stiff dick. She manipulated
him with her fingers, then wrapped her hand around his
shaft, pressing the palm against the loose skin so it
wouldn't abrade him before she was ready. Using fairly
light pressure, she stroked him up and down, letting
the rubber protuberances slid easily up the shaft, then
sweeping her bumpy fingers over Bobby's velvety crown.
Pamela judged her grip mostly by the look on her
nephew's face, but as time went by, she found that she
could get enough information just by feel. When the
little nubbins slipped over the boy's skin, there was
just the slightest vibration as the lumps bit into the
flesh, bent sideways, and finally slipped. She glanced
down: Bobby's fingers dug deeply into the coverlet .
It was time to find out how well the gloves' other
feature worked. With no warning, Pamela changed her
stroke so her palm slipped over her nephew's soft
helmet. His reaction was instantaneous: a sharply drawn
breath and a crimped, constricted look about his mouth.
It was exactly what she wanted. Wanting to keep the
boy's feelings sharp, she was careful not to overuse
the rough black palms; maybe one stroke in a hundred,
at random times, and once, when he was close to coming,
three times in a row to keep him on his toes.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 6 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 7.
Pamela played her nephew like a violin, taking him
up and letting him fall back, squeezing harder with her
fingers, then giving him a respite, swiping her palm
over his tender skin, then working the base while he
rested. After half an hour, she let him come, treating
him more and more roughly as she brought him higher and
higher. A thin film covered his chest, and she could
smell the sharp secretions from his armpits. She
squeezed even harder and a shot of white jism rose high
up and splattered against the boy's forehead. When she
finally released Bobby's tormented member, his face and
hair were covered in his own come. Pursing her lips in
concentration, she picked up her panties, arranged her
fingers behind the stained, funky crotch, and wiped his
face with cold efficiency.
* * *
Pamela, inspired by finding the perfect instruments for
her nephew's torment, redoubled her efforts, if not in
frequency, at least in intensity and duration. The
sessions continued four times a day, but they grew
longer and longer, until Bobby was spending most of his
waking hours at home with his cock gripped in his
aunt's gloved hand. His abused penis was tender and
painful all the time, especially when he got an
erection -- which, amazingly, happened regularly,
sometimes in the oddest places. He'd be sitting in
class, and a girl sitting next to him would raise her
arm, pressing her breast against her blouse. At
sixteen, this was not a minor enticement. His cock
would twitch and grow a bit. Before, his erection would
go away as rapidly as it came, but now the slightest
rush of blood into his dick made it itch, and the
itching made him conscious of it, and thinking about it
made him think of his aunt, and that made him rock-
hard, and his stiff prick would ache like crazy. If he
finally got himself under control, he'd be in the
cafeteria and a girl would bend over to pick something
up, Bobby would see the outline of the seams of her
panties through her slacks -- the line that marked the
beginning of the gusset in the crotch particularly
turned him on -- and the whole process would start over
again. He got used to carrying something in front of
his belly to keep people from seeing his rod.
Pamela, in search of a lubricant that wouldn't
moderate the sharpness of the little nubs so much,
began to mix the KY with thinners. Water helped.
Rubbing alcohol was even better: it cooled the boy's
dick as well as providing a clinical aroma completely
appropriate to the detached, distant mood that the
woman strove for most of the time. Then she tried witch
hazel, and she knew she was onto something good. When
combined with a tiny bit of gel, the thin stuff gave
just the right amount of friction, and the intensity of
the mixed feelings of coolness and warmth the lotion
brought to Bobby's sensitive tissues showed in his wide
eyes as she squeezed his shaft mercilessly through the
ribbed rubber.
Bobby's dick grew so sensitive that Pamela's touch
was exquisitely intense even on the rare occasions when
she just used her hands. His aunt always remained fully
clothed during her masturbation sessions, undressing
only when it was time for him to service her, which
wasn't always often enough; sometimes when Bobby was in
class she fingered herself furiously while she reveled
in the images of her practiced, detached, heartless,
unrelenting fingers on his weak, defenseless dick.
* * *
Ginny shoved more newspaper into the door-latch, then
closed the door again. She pushed hard on the knob with
one hand. Nothing. She turned the knob and opened the
door so she could put more paper in, then she shut the
door and leaned on it again. She felt resistance, then
heard a click, and the door swung open. She closed the
door and tried again. The paper had compressed a bit,
so she had to push really hard before it swung open.
She added one more wad, and forced it open several
times. The girl smiled thinly to herself as she dug the
paper back out, keeping the shreds so she'd know how
much to use next time. This was gonna work.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 7 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 8.
Just as suddenly as she had started, Pamela
discontinued Bobby's regular masturbation; in fact, she
allowed him no release whatsoever, although he
continued to serve her needs daily. The shy boy didn't
know what to make of it, but he was afraid to ask her
about it. After two days, he was horny all the time;
after four, he couldn't think about anything but sex;
after a week, he was jumpy as a colt. Pamela observed
the signs with increasing satisfaction.
* * *
Bobby sat at his desk, studying without enthusiasm. His
interest in the girls at school had plummeted since he
moved in with his aunt, but the idea of being alone on
a Saturday night seemed depressing. He was starting to
feel a little sorry for himself when he heard a sound
in the hallway. His aunt opened the door -- she never
knocked -- and stepped across the threshold. The young
boy turned around, not believing his eyes as Pamela
posed in the doorway. She wore a translucent baby doll
negligee, and her breasts swayed back and forth, making
slow waves in the filmy material. The top hung only
slightly below her waist, and her dark bush was plainly
visible through the lace-trimmed panties. She wore more
rouge and eye makeup than usual: the effect was a
little tarty, but extremely erotic.
Pamela ran her tongue slowly over her heavily-
lipsticked mouth, and said in a sultry voice, "Would
you like some company?"
"I'll say. Jeeze, you look sexy tonight, Aunt
Pamela."
She crossed to his chair, and ran both hands over
his shoulders and down his chest, her filmy gown
touching lightly against his back. "It's been hard on
you this week, hasn't it?"
"You mean, not..." Bobby was at a loss for words.
The older woman pinched the boy's nipples with her
fingernails. "Yes, that's what I mean. You've done very
well -- no whining, no complaining." One hand drifted
down to his lap and brushed his erection through his
panties; Bobby bit his lip, but didn't move. Pamela
continued in a soft, tender voice. "I can see you're in
need. Would you like me to take care of you?"
"Yes, Ma'am." His voice cracked.
"Then follow me." She turned and left the room.
Bobby pulled himself to his feet and padded along
behind his aunt, watching her creamy white ass roll
liquidly inside the sheer panties. She led him to her
bedroom. The lights had been turned low, and perfume
scented the air. Pamela sat on the edge of the bed, and
favored her nephew with a smoldering look. His head
swam. His aunt raised her hand, and slowly crooked her
finger at him. Eager, but somehow fearful at the same
time, the young boy advanced towards his waiting aunt.
He stopped a few feet away, but she beckoned again,
spreading her legs to make room for him. Finally he
stood with his swollen dick just inches from Pamela's
full, red lips. She brought her hands up to the
waistband of his panties, and eased the garment over
his slim hips, slowly unveiling her nephew's bulging
tool. Leaving his underwear halfway down his thighs,
Pamela sought the boy's genitals with both hands,
squeezing his balls with her fingernails while she
pulled the loose skin around his cock slowly up and
down. After a minute, a clear drop emerged at the tip;
using her thumb in a less-than-gentle fashion, the
woman spread the liquid evenly over the crown as
Bobby's knees sagged. Pamela kept rubbing long after
the fluid had ceased to provide any lubrication; the
friction caused a mixture of sharp pleasure and
discomfort that made Bobby shift his weight from foot
to foot.
The older woman opened her mouth wide, and drew it
close to Bobby's engorged prick. Without actually
touching the angry purple head she put her lips around
it, drew away, looked up at Bobby's face, and tried
again from a slightly different angle. After the forth
or fifth time, just when Bobby began to realize that
his aunt was just playing with him, Pamela drew away.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 8 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 9.
"Bobby, I know that you're very excited, and that
you want very much to ejaculate. I promise you that you
will. But first, you must pleasure me." She put out her
hands to Bobby, gripped his wrists, and pulled herself
to her feet, then pushed significantly on his
shoulders. The young boy sank to his knees in front of
his aunt. She grabbed him by the hair, and held his
head still while she rubbed her silk-covered pussy
against his face. Bobby, entranced by his aunt's strong
woman-scent, meekly let her control him.
"Take them off," she said huskily, releasing him.
He reached for her panties, but she held up her hand.
"With your mouth," she admonished. Careful to avoid
biting her, Bobby tugged at his aunt's underwear with
his lips and teeth. The older woman didn't make it easy
on him; she moved about frequently, preventing the boy
from getting good purchase. It took him a long time to
pull her thin black panties down far enough to expose
her dark brown bush.
Tiring of the game, Pamela pushed the boy away,
shucked her drawers down her legs and tossed them away.
She sank down onto the bed, wriggling back until her
head rested on the pillow, and drew her legs up and
apart. The older woman's puffy pussy lips, wet with her
secretions underneath her dark hair, glistened in the
dim light. Bobby, drawn as if by a magnet, prostrated
himself between his aunt's legs and reached out his
tongue to her pungent, sticky core. She grabbed the boy
by the ears and held him in place as he gave her two
shuddering orgasms.
After Pamela came down, she lifted one leg and
rolled Bobby over on his back. She walked sideways and
forward on her knees, pinning her nephew's shoulders
under her calves. As he looked up, he saw his world
eclipsed as his aunt covered his face with her ass. The
boy sought his aunt's furrowed opening with his tongue,
while she spat on the palm of her right hand, and
wrapped it around his throbbing member. Bobby gasped in
relief, but his aunt smothered his outburst by sitting
on him harder. She gripped his cock tightly, and fisted
it smoothly, forcing an almost-immediate ejaculation.
Bobby, who was having trouble breathing, expected
his aunt to move away, but she scooped up his semen and
used it on her hand as she kept up the friction on his
dick, which softened slightly, but quickly regained its
stiffness. As she bore down hard enough to drive the
boy's head back into the mattress, she jerked him
roughly to another orgasm.
The boy's spunk covered his stomach and chest, and
his aunt slithered through it as she worked her way
down his body. She sat on his lower belly, reached
between her legs, and dug around in her nephew's slimy
genitals. His cock was soft, so she moved on to his
balls. Working mostly with her fingernails, she pinched
all around his sack. The little spikes of pain made
Bobby twitch as he lay pinned by her weight. Using the
same approach, Pamela attacked her nephew's inner
thighs. By the time she returned to his cock, it was
half-hard. She tweaked the head with her sharp nails.
Bobby squeaked in astonished distress, but his aunt
ignored his outcry, worked her way around the crown,
then started on the loose skin on the underside of his
dick. In spite of his protests, Bobby was getting stiff
again. Knowing that the boy couldn't see what was going
on, Pamela pulled Bobby's dick upright, pressed it
against her clitoris, and worked her hips back and
forth. Delicious thrills darted through her loins.
Dipping her fingers in her pussy, she transferred the
oily fluid to her palm and began to jerk her nephew off
again. Bobby stared at his aunt's buttocks as she
brought him off one more time.
Bobby though sure his ordeal was over as his aunt
scissored her legs over him and sat on his thighs
facing the other way. A smug, contented expression
dominated Pamela's face. She was hot and sweaty and
wanted to be free of her top. She crossed her hands at
her waist, drew it off and threw it on the floor in one
smooth motion, then reached back and unhooked her black
brassiere. The woman's breasts swayed from side to side
in the dim lamplight, the globes moist with
perspiration, her nipples hard and pointed. Some of her
eye makeup ran down her cheek, giving her a demented
appearance. Bobby stared in spite of his torpor.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 9 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 10.
Slowly, triumphantly, Pamela scooped the mixture of
her oily secretions and Bobby's jism off his belly, wiped
his face with it, then ran her fingernails down his
belly and reached for his soft, pliant penis. The older
woman scooted up on her nephew's thighs until her cunt
pressed against his balls.
"My cock," she announced as she squeezed it in her
fist. It was so mushy and slick that it almost squished
out of her hand. "You want to watch me jerk off, don't
you , Bobby."
The boy was too confused to answer.
"Sure you do, Bobby. You want to watch me beat my
meat. You want to see me squirt. C'mon, say it."
"Uh, I want you to."
Pamela felt a little more resistance as she
rhythmically squeezed Bobby's prick. "You can do better
than that, boy. What do you want me to do."
"J..Jerk me, uh, you off."
"It may take a while. I don't care, though. I can
jerk off all night."
Bobby hoped it wouldn't come to that. His dick was
already sore, but it was almost hard. His aunt fisted
it with one hand while she humped her pelvis back and
forth. The boy looked hard at the place where their
bodies joined. It did look kinda like it was her cock,
not his. Now silent, Pamela expertly masturbated her
supine nephew. It did take a long time. Bobby's dick
ached. Sweat dripped down the woman's neck and onto her
breasts; their motion tossed droplets over the boy's
chest. Pamela's eyes held a demonic intensity as they
bored into Bobby's. After fifteen or twenty minutes,
Pamela felt a twitch in her palm. "I'm coming," she
announced. She leaned back enough to lift one hand free
of the bed, and, without slackening the pace, she
slapped her nephew's cheeks hard enough to sting as
intense spasms shook his body.
* * *
"C'mon, Bobby, we'll get you cleaned up," said Pamela
softly.
The boy stirred from his leaden reverie and
followed his aunt into the bathroom, standing dully by
as she sat on the side of the tub and opened the taps.
Only an inch of water flowed in before she shut them
again, and motioned Bobby to get in.
"Is that enough?" he protested hesitantly.
"Just get in, Bobby." The steel in her voice made
him respond instantly, and rebuked him for questioning
her in the first place.
The boy clambered into the tub, and lay back while
his aunt reached across him for the soap. She splashed
water onto his body, worked up a good lather with her
hands and spread it over his chest, working it into the
muscles with her fingers. She worked her way down his
body to his flat stomach. It felt more like a massage
than a soaping to Bobby, but he wasn't complaining:
whatever it was, it felt great. The woman moved her
hands up to his shoulders and dug slippery tracks down
his arms, then she straightened up, splashed some water
on her breasts, and soaped them while she eyed her
nephew provocatively. She leaned over the boy and
rubbed her slick, soft globes against his chest. He
thought he'd gone to heaven. The feeling grew more
intense as his aunt twisted her body around and
patiently and thoroughly kissed him, exploring his
mouth with her tongue. He slackened his lips and let
her have her way with him, not even trying to kiss her
back. The feeling was sensuous, but Bobby's penis
remained flaccid. He wondered we he'd be able to get it
up again. Probably not for a day or two, he thought,
I've never felt as drained as this.
Pamela pulled away and stood up. Placing a hand on
the side of the tub for support and fluttering the
other one awkwardly in the air, she climbed into the
tub and knelt between Bobby's legs. She found the soap,
relathered, and covered the boy's cock and balls with
suds, squishing his limp dick rhythmically in her
hands. The warm foam and his aunt's firm touch felt so
good that Bobby's tool swelled slightly. The boy felt
the change and was amazed and confused. Pamela just
smiled to herself.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 11 - Pt. 10 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 11. - Part 11.
When the boy was half-hard, his aunt stopped. "Put
your feet up," she ordered. Bobby wedged one foot into
the corner where the top of the tub and the wall came
together, and braced the other against the far wall.
The new position gave the woman easy access to her
nephew's backside, and she was quick to take advantage.
Resoaping her hands, she plunged them between the boy's
buttocks, probing for his tender asshole. Wasting no
time, she drove the middle and ring fingers of her left
hand deep inside her nephew's rectum. The older woman
wriggled her fingers in Bobby's soft membranes as she
gripped his cock with her soapy right hand. It was hard
enough that she could jerk him off, so she ran her fist
up and down the shaft, squeezing hard as she
encountered the head.
To the boy's surprise and his aunt's satisfaction,
he soon achieved a full stand. This was the older
woman's cue to renew her assault on her nephew's
bottom. She pulled her hand most of the way out, moved
her index finger over the other two, and pressed all
three up the boy's butt. Bobby grunted at the attack.
Pressing her advantage, Pamela added her little finger
to the group, and drove forward as far as the second
knuckle. Bobby began to be concerned, but the slippery
motions of his aunt's right hand on his dick dominated
his perceptions. The dark-haired woman pulled her left
hand part way out and let go of her nephew's cock long
enough to drip soap into the palm. She extended her
thumb so that it lay between her index and little
fingers, and pressed forward again. Her fingers slipped
easily in to the second knuckle, but after that she had
to press much harder. She found that there was less
resistance if she turned her hand sideways, but the
force of her invasion still made Bobby slip several
inches up the tub. Bobby bit his lip as the pressure
built. It hurt, but he refused to cry out. Suddenly
Pamela's whole hand slipped inside her nephew's nether
passage.
In spite of his resolve, Bobby yelped briefly as
his aunt overcame his defenses, but soon regained
control. The pain was fading, but he felt impossibly
full, and they way the woman moved her fingers in his
guts made him uneasy; his sphincter clamped hard around
her wrist.
"I'm fucking you, Bobby." The words made startled
the boy. "I'm fucking you up your ass." The woman began
to push her hand in and out in time with her fist on
the boy's cock. Pamela wasn't gentle, and Bobby scooted
back and forth in the shallow water. "You like getting
fucked, don't you, boy. You like Aunt Pamela's fist up
your ass. I can tell by your dick. You're gonna come
again." It was true. Bobby could feet the pressure
build, in spite of all the previous ejaculations. "Fuck
you, Bobby," the woman taunted him, "Just fuck you."
The crazy words drove him over the edge, and the boy
spasmed helplessly under his aunt's complete control.
* * *
Late that night, Bobby lay on his back in his bed, his
eyes staring blankly upwards. The night breeze rustled
the branches of the trees outside his window, and the
streetlight made intricate, shifting shadows on the
ceiling, but the images in Bobby's head were internal.
His aunt's fiery passion had affected him deeply. He
was used to her control, and he had grown to love it.
He was powerfully affected by her intense sexuality.
But he'd never imagined the frenzied, cruel, fierce
woman who took him that night. If the boy had harbored
any lingering resistance to his Pamela's domination,
they had vanished in the storm of her assault. Bobby
would do anything, anything at all, to see again that
ferocious, impassioned lust in his aunt's eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 11 Continued next time folks!
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 12. - Part 1.
Pamela noticed the change in Bobby right away. It was
subtle, but important. He was totally, completely hers.
Having achieved her goal, she felt some of the
anticipated satisfaction, but a vague, uncomfortable
sense of loss beset her. The domination games weren't
as much fun any more; not only did the boy offer no
resistance at all, he seemed to welcome whatever
privations Pamela visited upon him. The older woman
felt like a bronco buster with only a tame horse to
ride.
* * *
Pamela awoke, conscious of an urgent need to relieve
herself. She padded for the bathroom, but as she
crossed the threshold she had an idea. She had been
looking for a test of Bobby's progress, and it suddenly
came to her. She walked uncomfortably to Bobby's room
and shook him roughly. He awoke with a start, and she
tugged wordlessly on his hand. Bobby trailed sleepily
behind her as she led him into her bathroom. She slid
back the shower door and stepped inside, beckoning
Bobby. Once in the shower, she leaned against the cool
white tile and pointed to the floor. Bobby knelt
obediently. She looked down at him as he stared
blearily upwards. "Bobby," she said, "I just got up,
and my bladder is full."
"In the morning my urine is very strong and dark.
This morning, I don't want to waste my urine in the
toilet. This morning, I think there's a better place
for it." She shrugged her shoulders in a way that
pushed her away from the wall of the shower, and took a
half-step towards Bobby, spreading her legs as she did
so. Her next words were soft, but carefully phrased.
"Can you think of a better place for my urine, Bobby?"
Slowly, sleepily, Bobby opened his mouth. Pamela
felt a surge of triumphant energy followed by an urgent
need for release. She moved her hips slightly for
better aim, put the middle fingers of each hand an inch
or two outside her cunt lips, pulled them apart, and
spurted her strong morning piss between Bobby's waiting
lips. She was full, and his mouth soon brimmed over,
spilling her dark yellow urine down his cheeks. She
cocked her hips so her stream splashed against her
nephew's nose while she watched her golden liquid drip
off his chin. She finished by pressing her pussy
against his mouth as she squeezed off the last
intermittent discharges. "Swallow," she commended, and
dropped her fingers to his neck so she could feel his
Adam's apple bob.
* * *
Yes, he'd done very well. In fact, she could have hoped
for nothing better. Perfect obedience, even
anticipation of her wishes, and almost by reflex; the
boy had been too sleepy for much else. It was time for
their relationship to enter a new phase. She struggled
wistfully with her recollections of the last few weeks,
hoping that she'd enjoy the change as much as she knew
Bobby would.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 12 - Pt. 1 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 12. - Part 2.
Bobby, properly dressed, reported to his aunt as usual.
The older woman gave the teenager a long, searching
look, nodded to herself, and arose from the couch.
"Follow me, Bobby," she instructed as she crossed the
living room and started up the stairs. The boy followed
his aunt to her bedroom. "Give me your panties," she
ordered. Bobby pushed his underwear down his legs,
freeing his cock to bob up and down. Pamela took the
offered garment, and inspected it critically, even
though such small attempts at humiliation had ceased to
produce any noticeable effects. Tossing the panties
aside, she said softly, but with underlying intensity,
"Lie on the bed, Bobby."
The boy lay on his back while his aunt rooted
through a dresser drawer, finally coming up with a
tangled skein of rope. He watched in mild confusion as
she straightened one of the lengths out, and looped it
several times around his ankles. When his feet were
tightly bound, the older woman sat by his shoulders.
"Hands above your head," she ordered in a detached
manner. Pamela brought her nephew's wrists together and
tied them to each other, then she took the rest of the
rope, looped it through the headboard, and made it part
of the main knot. The older woman stood up and went to
the foot of the bed, where she tugged on the boy's feet
until he was stretched out straight and the ropes that
bound his wrists to the headboard were taught.
Satisfied, she started to undress.
Bobby watched with burning eyes as his aunt
disrobed. His mouth grew dry as he realized she was
taking everything off. When she was down to just her
panties, she teased him a little, posing with her hands
on her hips, turning around and pulling the garment up
into the crack of her ass, then lowering the waistband
slowly. Finally, she stood naked before him, the look
of distant control starting to be replaced by fire.
Pamela knelt on the bed straddling Bobby's feet.
She slowly worked her way up his body, pausing as she
spanned his loins to rub her clit with his hard dick.
Bobby moaned at the soft, slippery warmth, but his aunt
soon moved on up his body, pressing her cunt against
first his belly, then his chest. When she finally
lowered her pussy to his waiting mouth, he eagerly
applied his tongue to all her favorite places. Pamela
gripped the headboard and braced herself as she took
her first orgasm from her bound nephew. For the second,
she held his head and fucked his face as he tried to
follow with his tongue, finally coming with most of her
weight on Bobby's bruised lips.
Breathing raggedly, the older woman wriggled her
way back down her nephew's body, this time leaving a
shiny, sticky trail of her secretions on his chest and
belly. She stopped at the boy's hips, lifting her pussy
away from his body, reaching down to take his cock
delicately between her thumb and middle finger, and
bringing the head to the mouth of her dripping cunt.
She eyed Bobby significantly for a moment. The boy
stared back, his mouth slack, desperately craving, but
not daring to hope. Wordlessly, Pamela sat down,
enveloping her nephew's prick. She moved her hips in
little circles, a keening sound escaping her lips. He
felt so good, so big, so hard, so young, so... so hers.
She rode her nephew expertly, thrusting her hips back
and forth and complex, controlled patterns. This one's
for him, she thought as tightened her pussy muscles.
For his part, Bobby was immersed in an agony of
pleasure and frustration. His aunt felt wonderful:
tight, slippery, warm. The lustful look on her face
excited him immensely. He longed desperately for
release, but was sure his aunt wouldn't allow it
without her permission. He strained against the ropes.
Belatedly, Pamela recognized the signs. "It's all
right, Bobby," she said softly. "Go ahead. Fill me up."
The boy let go, pumping his hot jism into his aunt's
tight, hot cunt, twisting back and forth in his
ecstasy. His aunt met each of her trusts with one of
hers.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 12 - Pt. 2 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 12. - Part 3.
Pamela let her nephew rest for a minute or so,
moving her hips in small, slow circles, then she picked
up the pace as she rode his still-hard cock. It was so
nice to have such a young, virile stallion. She leaned
forward, pressed back with her hips, and cocked her
pussy so her clit pressed against the boy's tool. With
her hands on his chest and her fingernails tweaking his
nipples, the older woman rode her nephew to a violent
orgasm. Bobby dutifully held back, letting his aunt use
him as she wished.
Pamela was sweating heavily with the exertion and
the excitement. Rivulets ran down her breasts and over
her stomach to add to the pool of secretions collecting
on her nephew's belly. A few strands of hair had
escaped from her bun and drifted about her face. She
leaned forward and explored her nephew's mouth with her
tongue, then straightened up and got back to the
serious fucking. He filled her up so nicely. He looked
so helpless all tied up like that. He was hard and
vigorous, could fuck all day and wouldn't come until
she told him to. She could have him whenever she
wanted. It was wonderful. She felt herself climbing to
another climax. Could she share this one? Sure, she
could. "Get ready, Bobby. You can climax when I tell
you. Getting close... Almost there... NOW." The boy
spurted on command, as his aunt jerked spasmodically.
Yes, it was just perfect.
* * *
The front door closed, and Ginny heard her mother's
brisk steps down the walk. There was a click as Ellen
opened the car door; she slammed it shut and worked the
starter, which ground uselessly once, twice. The aging
engine finally caught.
Ginny returned to the kitchen, where her father
sat at the table. Butch seemed nervous, which wasn't
like him at all. He rustled his newspaper, read for a
few seconds, but seemed unable to concentrate and got
up to pour himself another cup of coffee. Ginny sat
down and idly leafed through the TV section while her
father paced back and forth. She was probably as
nervous as he, but she was doing a better job of
controlling it, but she had a good reason. Butch sat
down again, drank a few sips of coffee, fiddled some
more with the newspaper, then got up and ambled off in
the direction of his bedroom. Ginny gave him a 10
second head start, and followed. She came around the
corner into the hallway just as her father closed the
door to the bedroom. She listened critically to the
sound the latch made. Just right, she thought, Enough
to hold it closed for now, but not enough to stand up
against a good hard shove. Butch locked the door, and
Ginny turned and entered her own bedroom, closing the
door behind her.
The teenager had second thoughts as she pulled the
clothes out from under the mattress. Last chance to
back out, she thought as she undressed and shook out
the black garter belt. She secured it around her waist
and sat down on the bed to pull on the sheer black
stockings. You're working without a net now, girl. If
this doesn't come off, you'll be in real trouble. Ginny
put on a low-cut black brassiere, bent over and
wriggled from side to side, and fastened the clasp
behind her. She stepped into the black leather skirt,
tightened her stomach muscles, and drew the zipper,
then rummaged in the closet and came up with the high
heeled pumps, which she put on while she steadied
herself on the door jamb.
Ginny crossed her arms, set her jaw, and tossed a
hard look in the direction of the closet mirror. You're
a sexy little number, she thought, but that's not quite
it. She sat at her dressing table and worked on her
eyes until her eyelids were dark blue, then she put
what, under most circumstances, would have been too
much blush high on her cheekbones. Much better, she
thought. She rose, took two deep breaths, and walked
into the hallway.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 12 - Pt. 3 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 12. - Part 4.
The young girl paused outside her father's bedroom
door. She wanted to wait, she wanted to run, she wanted
to do anything but what she had promised herself she
was going to do. Conscious that if she waited another
minute, she'd get cold feet, she raised her hand to the
door, took half a step forward, and pushed hard.
The door resisted for an instant, then flew open
abruptly. Ginny's father lay naked on the bed,
balancing one of the magazines on the bed with his left
hand while stroking his angry red cock with his right.
He stared at his daughter, immobilized by shock and
horror. Ginny stalked to the bedside, aware that she
had but a few seconds to establish her dominance. She
folded her arms across her chest and stood with her
legs apart. She barked the words she'd rehearsed: "On
your knees!"
Butch dropped the magazine as if were hot.
Consumed with guilt, his mind froze, and his body took
over, rolling off the bed and kneeling head down, in
front of his daughter.
A wild surge of joy coursed through the teenager
as she gazed down at her father. She was winning! "Head
back!" she ordered.
Butch raised his eyes to his daughter's face. Her
eyes, framed dramatically in the dark eye shadow,
sparked with anger and determination. She reached down
with both hands, grasped the hem of her tight leather
skirt, and pulled it slowly upwards, stepping forward
until her black bush hovered over her father's
astonished face. "Eat it!" she growled.
Butch was beginning to come to his senses. He knew
he'd been caught, and his main concern was not that his
daughter knew, but that she'd tell Ellen. He knew he'd
made a mistake in obeying Ginny's initial orders, but
he wasn't committed yet. But now, here was someone who
was finally allowing him to fulfill his fantasy,
someone who would make him grovel, someone who would
order him around, someone who would make him do
humiliating things. That it was his own daughter struck
terror in his heart, but also made the humiliation, and
thus the attraction, more complete. The smell of
Ginny's young pussy filled his nostrils. He knew he was
weak, that this was wrong, but he was powerless before
his long-surpressed urges. With a little sob, he
pitched forward and lapped greedily at his daughter's
hairy cunt.
Ginny felt victorious and powerful as she reached
down with both hands, buried them in her father's hair,
and pulled him roughly against her. She stepped forward
and forced his head backwards until he was looking
straight up as he licked and sucked at her pink,
slippery flesh. His eyes found hers as she stared down
in triumph. She moved her hips a little and finally
allowed herself to enjoy the sensations that emanated
from her groin. Ellen loved having her cunt licked, and
Butch sometimes buried his face between her legs for
half an hour at a time, imagining all the while that
she was making him eat her. He had thus acquired a set
of oral skills far beyond anything Ginny had ever
experienced; he drove his daughter wild with his
active, supple tongue, and made her come more quickly
than she'd intended -- she'd planned to make him work
for a while before giving him the satisfaction of
seeing her come. The teenager groaned and bore down
heavily on her father's face as her stomach muscles
contracted in quick little spasms.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 12 - Pt. 4 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 12. - Part 5.
Butch's neck hurt as his daughter shifted more of
her weight onto him. Her sweet taste made him hold his
ground and ignore the pain. He kept on licking as his
daughter's juices began to flow, covering his lips and
cheeks, and even dribbling down his neck as they mixed
with his saliva. Ginny thrust with her hips, and Butch
fell backwards. She followed him down and sat on his
face as he lay on the floor, still licking. Suddenly,
Ginny reversed herself on her father, kneeling over him
as she faced his feet. She pulled herself upright and
rocked her hips back and forth over Butch's mouth. She
pushed farther forward than she had intended and felt
her father's warm, wet tongue slip between her slim
buns. She sat back on him and he eagerly probed her
asshole. It's so easy, she thought, delighting in the
delicious sensations and the feeling of power and
control. For the first time, she felt confident enough
to say things beyond simple orders. "Lick my butt,
Daddy," the young girl urged. "Get your tongue up my
asshole. Tastes good, doesn't it? You love it down
there, don't you? You're just a natural butt-licker."
Butch couldn't believe how excited he got when his
daughter talked to him like that. When she reached down
and gripped his thick penis with a hand that barely
closed around it, he moaned; when she fisted him
rapidly up and down, he soon shot white semen all over
his chest. Ginny shifted her hips so that he was once
more licking her clitoris, and made him give her two
more orgasms before she stood up and walked rapidly out
of the room, not trusting her ability to dominate her
father when he wasn't consumed by desire.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 12 Continued next time, folks!
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 1.
Bobby raised his head from the history book and
searched out the shadowed clock face. Nine-thirty. That
should just about do it. He was a couple of day's ahead
anyway. Amazing how much you can get accomplished when
you don't have any distractions. Well, make that one
distraction. He heard his aunt's footfalls in the hall,
and listened with eager anticipation as she paused
before his door. She waited a long time, turning the
latch once and then releasing it, but not entering.
Finally, she pushed the door aside and stepped across
the threshold.
Bobby's eyes widened as he saw his aunt dressed in
some floor-length pink diaphanous wrap that failed to
conceal the hazy brown-capped outlines of her breasts
and the shadowy triangle below her belly. Hair rich,
black hair, released from its usual bun, flowed
liquidly down her back. She spoke sweetly, almost
girlishly: "It's bedtime, Bobby."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm ready."
"Maybe you'd like to go to bed in a different
place tonight."
Bobby struggled with the implications of that. He
wondered what new torture she had in store for him.
"Uh, where..."
"Would you like to lie down in my bed?"
This couldn't be happening. It had to be a trick.
Nothing to do but play it straight. Don't come on to
strong, though. She's just gonna use it on you.
"Yes'm."
She held out her hand. He took it shyly. It felt
cool as she led him down the hall. Her gown billowed
out behind her, brushing against Bobby's ankles. Her
perfume made him dizzy. She paused in the dimly-lit
bedroom and turned down the coverlet, then she knelt
before her astonished nephew and gently tugged his
panties down his legs. His cock throbbed and quivered
with excitement as Pamela kissed the head delicately,
then slowly eased his member into her warm mouth, all
the time looking up into his eyes. She felt like a
miracle. She felt like a dream. She moved her mouth in
mysterious ways, making chills run up and down the
boy's back and turning his knees to water. He fought to
hold his arousal in check and his aunt sweetly, gently,
lovingly sucked his cock. Just where he began to doubt
whether he could take any more she pulled slowly back.
A long string of saliva held the connection between
them, then sagged and broke. She held up her hand. He
took it, and helped her to her feet.
With the grace of a dancer, Pamela shrugged the
wrap from her shoulders. It made a soft, pink cloud
around her feet. She came into Bobby's arms, fitting
like a key in a lock. He smelled her clean, rich hair.
She raised her head slowly and kissed him with
exquisite thoroughness, exploring his mouth deeply with
her probing, agile tongue. Bobby's hands drifted down
over her silky back and came to rest cupping her ripe,
swelling buttocks. She squirmed against his hands, and
one index finger slipped into the warm divide. He could
feel the hard points of her nipples in the center of
the pillowy masses that pressed against his upper
belly.
After what seemed an eternity, Pamela broke away.
"Get in, Bobby." she urged, gesturing at the bed. Not
trusting his voice, the boy slid between the sheets and
wriggled over so there was room for her. She slipped
under the covers beside him, reached up, and turned off
the light. Bobby was lost in a soft, perfumed blackness
as his aunt wound herself against him, feeling like she
had no bones. She kissed him again, and this time Bobby
responded more. She sucked his tongue into her mouth
and jerked back and forth as if it was a little cock.
Then she stopped. He could feel her hand on his hip,
and her breath on his face. The tension built.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 13 - Pt. 1 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 2.
"Bobby," she said. Her voice was almost a whisper,
but it seemed loud in the dark, silent room.
"Yes, ma'am." The ma'am just slipped out. He
thought it probably was the wrong thing to say, but
couldn't take it back.
"I want you to make love to me. I want to lie
under you and feel your power and your strength. I want
to feel your hard shaft deep in my most private place,
and I want to feel your essence squirting in my guts. I
want you, Bobby. Do you want me?"
"Oh, yes, Aunt Pamela. More than anything."
"Then take me, Bobby." She rolled onto her back,
dragging her nephew's body partially over her. Bobby
struggled to his hands and knees as he positioned
himself over his aunt's body. He could feel her heat on
his chest and stomach. She spread her legs so he could
fit himself between. He bent to kiss her -- the first
time he had been bold enough to initiate a kiss --
found his dick with his hand, and felt for Pamela's
pussy. It was warm, it was wet, but he didn't seem able
to find the opening. Before he became embarrassed,
Pamela brushed away his hand, and took his dick between
her thumb and middle finger. "Let me do it, Bobby." she
murmured. He felt a damp clinging hollowness, pressed
forward, and was home, buried deep inside his aunt's
warm, soft, slippery pussy. With a guttural cry, Pamela
wrapped her legs around the boy, digging her heels into
his upper buttocks. Bobby started to pump in and out.
Too fast. Well, that's to be expected. Just a few
instructions now. The fine points can wait 'til later.
"Slow down, Bobby," his aunt admonished him. "Make it
last, baby."
Bobby controlled himself.
"Don't just move in and out. Grind your pelvis
against me. That stimulates my clitoris."
The boy got the idea, but overdid it.
"Not so hard, baby. Be firm, be sure, but be
disciplined."
The thrusts moderated. That's better. She ran her
hand over her nephew's slim, athletic hips. He's
getting it. What a body. And he'll fuck me as long as I
want, and come when I say so. I'll just let him do all
the work for a while. Gradually, Pamela reduced the
thrusts of her hips until she lay still underneath his
rhythmic thrusts. She trailed her hand up the boy's
side and explored his sweaty armpit, feeling the taut
cords of muscle and tendon. She let the climax build
without any effort, taking it from him, but not working
for it herself. She groaned as he pushed her on over.
Bobby slowed not at all, and Pamela let herself
experience a string of small aftershocks, then banked
the fires.
Bobby was covered with a thin sheen of
perspiration. His breathing was deep and fast, but
regular. He had his cock under control: he could feel
the desire for release, but it was steady, and he held
it in check. The way his aunt has moaned when she'd
come had almost thrown him over the edge himself, but
he'd bit his lip and managed. He tasted a little salty
blood. He felt his aunt's hands on his chest. They
found a nipple, and tweaked it, digging in with
fingernails. Her nails moved on to his back, scratching
and biting. IT felt great to the boy, a fantastic
counterpoint to the clinging warmth of her pussy. He
could smell her now; the musky odor of Pamela's
dripping cunt wafted up from between their bodies. Her
breaths came faster again, and her hips began to pump.
She pulled down his head and mashed their mouths
together in a fierce kiss. The tigress was coming out.
"Ugh...ugh...ugh," she grunted, matching each thrust .
Pamela came again, groaning and sweating, and
scratching Bobby's back hard enough to draw blood.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 13 - Pt. 2 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 3.
Once more the older woman let herself sink back
under the machine-like pumping of her young nephew. She
wanted to feel him come now, really feel it, with no
filtering from her own needs. She lay quietly. "Bobby,"
she said softly. "I'm going to let you come soon. You
can come inside me. But wait just a minute. I'll do
something you'll like."
"Alright. God, you feel so good..."
"Are you ready?"
"I'm ready."
"Then fuck me, Bobby. Fuck my little pussy. Fuck
it just the way you want. Am I tight enough for you?
God, your prick feels big. It makes me so wet... C'mon,
fill me up with your hot come, baby. Ohh.."
Bobby didn't last long under his aunt's verbal
onslaught. She felt his cock twitch inside her. She
concentrated, and imagined that she could feel his
squirts against the walls of her womb. She felt a
change in the friction, then a coolness in the crack of
her ass as few droplets dripped down there. Suddenly
Pamela pushed her nephew to the side, rolling over so
Bobby lay on his back, with the older woman on top of
him. Pinning Bobby's hands over his head, Pamela worked
herself into a position straddling the boy's shoulders.
She shifted her grip to his head, and worked her
dripping pussy over his mouth. He tried to go for the
clit, but she held him steady as she cocked her hips so
his tongue was licking the mouth of her channel.
Bobby heard his aunt grunt as if she were on the
toilet, and he felt her muscles tense. The entrance to
her womb wrenched once, twice, and then ejected a
thick, slimy plug of semen into his mouth. The boy
gagged and tried to twist his head, but the hands on
his temples held him firmly in place. He submitted
reluctantly, swallowing his own come. He didn't know
why it was disgusting, but there it was.
Smiling in her triumph, Pamela rolled off her
nephew, curled up beside him, and explored his mouth
with her tongue. He might not like his own come, but I
sure do, she thought. They lay in silence for a few
minutes. Bobby's breathing grew slower and slower, and
she was afraid he might be falling asleep. "Time for
you to go to bed, Bobby," she prompted.
"Aw, Aunt Pamela," he whined, "Can't I stay?"
She at up, grabbed him by the ear, pulled him to
his knees, and rolled him onto the floor. "You
impertinent..." she howled, at a loss for words in her
outrage. Bobby stared up in horror, his mind reeling.
She sat on the side of the bed and put her foot on his
half-hard cock, leaning forward so she could put her
weight on him. "Have you forgotten everything I've
taught you? I thought I'd be nice to you, and this is
how you repay me!" She pulled her foot away and brought
her knees together. "Up here, Bobby," she said in a
tone that was suddenly resigned. Bobby scrambled to his
feet. "Over my knees. Buttocks in the air. Hands and
feet on the floor." His mind numb with shock, the boy
complied.
The spanking began immediately. Crack! "You will
address me respectfully., won't you?"
"Y..yes ma'am." Bobby's eyes felt watery. There
was a lump in his throat. He fought against the
feeling.
Crack! "You will not give me any back talk!"
"Yes'm" The first tear trickled from the corner of
his eye.
Crack! "You will do what I say, when I say it."
"Yes, Aunt Pamela." His voice cracked, and he
began to sob. He knew he'd screwed up. How could he
have ever thought that she'd want him as a lover? In a
flash of insight, he saw that it happened so easily
because that was what he'd wanted all along. To be her
strong man. Her partner in bed. An amorous equal.
Crack! "Why should I be nice to you, if this is
how you act?"
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 13 - Pt. 3 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 4.
Bobby just bawled. The spanking didn't hurt that
much, but it just underscored his subservient position,
and made his misunderstanding seem even more silly.
Crack! "Maybe I should go back to the glove. Is
that what you want? Just the glove four times a day?"
It was an idle threat, but he didn't know it.
"No ma'am."
Crack! "How about the salt, then. Want some more
of the salt?"
"No ma'am."
Crack! "Maybe both together, then. The salt and
the glove. That's what you need, isn't it?"
"No ma'am."
Crack! "Then you better grovel, Bobby."
"Yes'm."
Crack! "Are you sorry?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I..I just got the wrong idea."
Crack! "Will it happen again?"
"No ma'am. Never."
Pamela stopped. "I'll give you one more chance,
Bobby, but if you fail again, I won't be as merciful."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
Pamela pushed her nephew onto the floor again. She
lay back and spread her legs. "Come show me how sorry
you are, Bobby," she ordered. The older woman smiled as
Bobby's tear-stained face appeared between her legs.
Still sniffling, he parted her outer lips with his
tongue and sought the little pebble beneath. Pamela
rejoiced in her victory. She'd found the secret:
Bobby's desperate longing for a relationship that could
never be. He'd never be able to resign himself to the
crumbs she'd let him have. Her orgasm washed over her.
Bobby looked up blankly. "Again," she commended,
pulling on his hair to emphasize the point.
* * *
The family were all at the breakfast table on a sunny
Saturday morning, when Ginny decided to try a little
experiment. A little too sweetly, she announced:
"Daddy, I don't feel like mowing the lawn today. I want
to go over to Marlene's this morning."
Ginny was ready for her father's reaction, and she
wasn't disappointed. Confusion, anger, and finally
resignation flitted across his face before he shrugged
and responded, "S...sure, honey -- I'll take care of
the lawn."
Ellen's jaw dropped, but she remained silent.
Ginny got up and sauntered out, trying to keep from
smiling.
* * *
After breakfast, Ginny went back to her room to get her
schoolbooks, and met her father as he came out of his
bedroom. She stood much closer than a daughter should
and said in a low voice: "Daddy, I want you to get off
work early today and pick me up when school lets out.
Make a reservation at one of those big motels over by
the Interstate." The girl started to turn away, but
changed her mind, saying, "Oh yeah, you can spend the
day trying to imagine what I'm gonna do to you."
Butch watched open-mouthed as his daughter
disappeared down the hall.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 13 - Pt. 4 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 5.
Ginny pushed her way into the motel room and paced
back and forth, exploring. She'd been nervous and bitchy
in the car on the way over. Butch had watched her skirt
rise well above her knees as she had wriggled around in
her seat, and he already had an erection. Ginny pawed
through the plastic bottles on the counter in the
bathroom. As Butch came around the corner to see what
she was doing, she turned suddenly towards him.
"In there!" she ordered, pointing back towards the
bedroom. Butch retreated as his daughter followed. "On
the floor!" Butch cowered at her feet. "Now get
undressed," the young girl sneered. Butch awkwardly
stripped as he twisted himself back and forth on the
carpet. When he was naked, Ginny sat on the bed and
took off one shoe.
Her mood shifted suddenly. "Like it down there,
Daddy?" she asked. in a playful, teasing voice. Butch
said nothing. Ginny pulled off her sock and rested her
bare foot on her father's chest. "My feet are all hot
and sweaty," she announced as she slid her toes up to
Butch's neck. She batted him gently on his cheek with
the ball of her foot, and finally rested her toes
against his lips. Butch needed no encouragement; this
was one of the scenes in the magazines that had excited
him the most. He eagerly licked between his daughter's
toes, lapped at the ball of her foot as she moved it
higher, and sucked on her toes, starting with the
smallest and finally tonguing her big toe as she flexed
it in his mouth. Ginny removed her other shoe and sock
and made her father give both feet equal treatment.
Tiring of the game, she stood up and straddled the
prostrate man. She picked up her skirt and swished it
form side to side, giving her father occasional
glimpses of her white panties. "Like what you see,
Daddy?" she teased. "Take a good look," she said as she
crouched down over him, rubbing her cotton-covered
crotch briefly against his face before standing up
again. Her spicy odor lingered in Butch's nostrils as
she moved down to his hips and swatted his stiff prick
back and forth with one foot. She squatted again and
thrust forward with her hips, pressing his cock against
his belly. She rode him a while, tilting her hips so
she could rub her clit with her father's dick. The
friction excited her, and her eyes sparkled as she
stared into Butch's face. "I could come this way,
Daddy," she cooed. "Would that turn you on? You could
watch my face." She rose and went to the bathroom,
returning almost immediately with a small bottle, which
she held between her teeth as she stripped off her
panties. The girl knelt down and poured some white
lotion on Butch's cock before kneeling astride his hips
and pressing her pussy against the base of his thick
penis. "Ooh, Daddy," she moaned, "Your big prick feels
so good against me." She squirmed her hips around
before settling down into a steady back-and-forth
rhythm, being careful to avoid the head. "Yeah, Daddy,
this is nice." She put both hands on her father's chest
for balance. "You're gonna make your little girl very
happy. You want that, don't you? You want Ginny to feel
good." Her hips moved faster. "Almost there, Daddy.
Just a little more. Oh, yes. That's it. Ooh!" A deep
red flush covered Ginny's face as she jerked against
the recumbent figure.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 13 - Pt. 5 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 6.
Bobby lifted his aunt's ankles onto his shoulders and
pinned her thighs against her chest, flattening her
breasts and making her feel deliciously captive. He
controlled his thrusts just as she'd taught him,
pushing himself deep inside her, but not hitting
bottom. She threw her hands over her head and he
grabbed her wrists and pressed them down into the
sheets. It was wonderful to submit in this way, yet be
in complete control. "Fuck me, Bobby," she moaned.
"Take me. Use me."
"Yes ma'am."
That wasn't right. She'd have to give him limited
permission to verbally get into character. That's OK.
There's plenty of time. Her stomach muscles spasmed as
she let herself be pushed over the top.
* * *
Butch lay naked on the bed in the motel and watched
Ginny pull the pom-poms out of her gym bag. The girl
had her hair in two braids that bounced about her
shoulders and wore a light sweater, a short white
skirt, white socks, and sneakers; she looked even
younger than her years.
"Let's play a game, Daddy," Ginny said in a light
tone of voice, but one that clearly wouldn't take 'no'
for an answer. "You'll be my father, and I'll be a
cheerleader. I've just gotten my new outfit, and I'm
showing it to you. We'll ignore the way you're
dressed."
"Whatever you say, honey," Butch responded,
curious about what she had planned for him.
Ginny posed with her pom-poms on her hips and a
little-girl-saucy expression on her face. "Don't I look
nice, Daddy?" she said, coquettishly.
"Very nice, sweetheart." Butch's cock began to
twitch in anticipation.
"Watch this." Ginny kicked one leg up above her
head.
Butch made appreciative noises.
"Can you see my panties when I do that?" Ginny
kicked again.
"Just a flash of them."
"How about when I do this?" The teenager spun
around quickly.
"Yes. That makes your skirt fly up."
"That means all the boys will see my panties,"
Ginny said with a pout. She dropped her pom-poms.
pulled the front of her skirt above her waist. and
looked down at her crotch with an expression of mock
confusion.
"Just a glimpse, and they're nice panties."
Still holding the skirt up, Ginny walked around
the bed until she stood near her father's head. "You
think they're nice enough?"
Butch rolled on his side so he could inspect the
high white spandex underwear that Ginny had borrowed
from one of her cheer leading friends. The shiny
material clung tightly to the young girl's pubic mound,
its smooth surface ruffled slightly by the hair
beneath. "They're very nice, sweetheart."
"Are they clean?" Ginny trilled girlishly. "I'd
hate for the boys to see me in dirty panties."
"They look clean to me."
"Smell them, Daddy. Smell my panties and make
sure."
Butch pulled himself closer and rested his nose
against the slick white cloth. inhaling the delicate
perfume of his daughter's pussy. "You smell fine."
Ginny stepped onto the bed with one knee, rolling
her father onto his back and planting her crotch
squarely on his face. "How about under there, Daddy,"
she said in a high teasing voice. "Are they clean under
there, too?"
Butch's reply was muffled. He began to lick at his
daughter's sweet lips.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 13 - Pt. 6 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 13. - Part 7.
"Oh, Daddy. Your tongue feels so good! You're so
nice to your little girl!" Ginny rode her father's face
for a minute or two, then pulled away. "Can I take
these off, Daddy? You're so sweet when you kiss me
there. I want you to kiss my thing without the panties
in the way." The girl stripped off her underwear and
knelt above her father. "Let me see your tongue, Daddy.
Stick it out for me. Such a nice tongue you have." She
moved down onto him "That's right, Daddy. Put you
tongue up my little tunnel. Twist it around real good."
She shifted her hips. "Now lick my little button. Your
tongue is so soft, Daddy. Lick your little girl. Oh,
don't stop. You're gonna make me go all squishy inside,
Daddy." Ginny came with a set of high squeals.
After a minute, she rolled off her father, and
gathered up her pom-poms. "Stand up, Daddy," she
giggled.
Butch stood beside the bed, and Ginny ran the pom-
poms over his chest and stomach, as he towered over
her. She ran the paper between his legs and up into his
crotch, then pretended to notice his huge erection. "Oh
Daddy," she whined. "What a big stiff thing you have.
It's so gross!" Ginny swatted Butch's cock with one of
the pom-poms. "It's so icky. Make it go down." She
batted it back and forth. The rough paper hurt a
little, but the friction and his daughter's mock
disgust turned Butch on. "What a big, dirty thing, you
have, Daddy!" The blows came faster and faster. "I'm
gonna slap your big red thing until it gets little!"
Butch felt a warmth in his loins. "Down, you big snake.
Oh, yuck. What's all this white stuff? Oh, Daddy,
you're just disgusting!" The pom-poms grew somewhat
limp as Butch wet them with his discharge.
* * *
The Saturday afternoon sunlight streamed in through
Pamela's bedroom window, revealing every line, pore and
detail in the bodies entwined on the bed. Bobby,
labored over his aunt, pumping in and out with
mechanical efficiency as she changed her pose, lifting
first one leg, then the other, now hooking both ankles
behind the boy's knees and thrusting her pelvis up
high, now running one foot up his thigh and pressing
her heel against his asshole, now stroking his cheek
with a tender hand, now scratching his back, now
grabbing a handful of hair and pulling his face
fiercely against hers, now letting her hands fall
limply above her head and luxuriating in the rhythmic
energy of the boy's thrusts. They'd been fucking for
more than an hour. Bobby was drenched in sweat.
Droplets dripped from his chin and nose; sometimes
Pamela would try to catch one in her mouth. Gracefully
as dancers -- but with the woman leading -- they rolled
onto their sides. Bobby's hand trailed down his aunt's
back, cupped one of her buttocks, and probed between
her cheeks. She nodded soundlessly, and he sank his
middle finger into her tightly-puckered ring. She lay
passively, feeling his thrusts at both portals. After a
long time, she rolled him onto his back, wrapped her
fingers around his wrists, pinned his hands over his
head, and rode him to her fourth orgasm of the
afternoon. Bobby didn't get to come; he had at least
another hour of work to do.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 13 Continued soon folks!
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 1.
Ellen lay on the bed in the dark, staring at the
ceiling. She sighed. "Is it me, honey? Is there
anything wrong?"
Butch rolled over on his side. "No, babe.
Everything's fine. I guess I'm just tired out. I've
been working too hard the last few days. I'm sorry,
hon."
Ellen kissed him gently. "You'll be all right
tomorrow, I'm sure. Don't worry about it."
Butch drifted off into a fitful sleep, but Ellen
couldn't take her own advice. She lay on her back,
clutching her shoulders with her crossed arms. Maybe I
ought to work harder at being sexy. Working full time,
and trying to keep the house going, I've kind of let
some things slide. Course, I'd help if Butch would lift
a finger to do some of the chores... Anyway, maybe I
ought to spend more time on my makeup. And I could get
to the beauty parlor a lot more often if I put my mind
to it. How about getting some sexy lingerie? Surprise
him. I dunno... Maybe he is just tired. Her whirling
thoughts finally turned to unsettling dreams.
* * *
They'd pushed two hassocks together in the middle of
the living room, and Pamela lay face-down on them, her
feet straight out behind her, her arms dangling down
bonelessly. Bobby knelt beside her, his oily hands
working their way down her spinal column. He reached
the sacral vertebrae, slid his way to her shoulder
blades, and scratched her back in long, gliding,
slippery strokes. A long sigh of contentment escaped
the woman's lips. When he'd finished with her back, he
let his hands slip lower, onto the tops of her swelling
buttocks. He got some more oil, making sure he kept his
elbow resting on his aunt so she'd know where he was,
and began to knead her globes carefully and thoroughly.
He heard the tempo of her breathing quicken slightly,
and he knew that the massage was about to take a more
sexual turn. He was more than ready; he'd had a hard-on
the whole time. He worked in way inwards, slipping his
fingers up and down the slippery crevice and spreading
the cheeks to reveal the brown, puckered rosette.
Pamela shifted her weight as she slipped one hand under
her body and fingered her moist pussy. Bobby ran his
fingertips rapidly back and forth over her asshole as
she began to moan.
Suddenly, the woman moved back and pulled her legs
up so she was kneeling with her upper body still flat
on the hassocks. "Get behind me, Bobby," she said in a
tone still dazed from the massage. Bobby obeyed,
straddling his aunt's legs and squeezing her calves
between his knees. "Now rub me with your thumbs," she
instructed. The boy splayed his hands out along his
aunt's buns, his thumbs pointing inwards. He ran each
one lightly in turn over her rubbery asshole, letting
them dig in slightly. Her fingers flashed in her dark
bush.
Presently, Pamela spoke again; "Now slip one thumb
in."
"Yes ma'am." Bobby's fingers were already oily
enough. He positioned his thumb at he center of the
crinkled target, pressed gently, and sank slowly in to
the hilt. He rotated his hand back and forth.
"Oh, God. That's so good." Bobby kept it up. He
could smell his aunt's excitement. Several minute
passed.
"Take your thumb out, Bobby."
"Yes'm." Was it over? She hadn't come yet.
"Now give me two fingers."
Bobby got a little more oil, and poised his index
and middle fingers at the now-loosened entrance to her
bottomhole. They slipped smoothly inside, not without
some resistance.
"Good boy. Now fuck me. Slow at first. Now you can
speed up. Yes, that's it. Finger-fuck me, Bobby. Fuck
my tight little asshole. Faster. You're gonna make me
come, Bobby." Her fingers were a blur. "That's it,
Bobby. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Ohhh." Pamela jerked,
clenched, jerked, and went limp. A red flush spread
downwards across her oily back.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 1. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 2.
After dinner, Ellen disappeared while Butch worked on
her car. When he came into the bedroom, dirty and
tired, Ellen was sitting at her dressing table brushing
out her hair. The room lights were dim, and her perfume
was spiced the air. She rose, brushing her hands slowly
over the sheer wrap that covered her breasts. One hand
continued on to her belly and stopped there, her
fingers pointing provocatively down towards the dark
triangle visible through the silky material. With
languid grace, the dark-haired woman untied the bow at
her neck and shrugged her way out of the gown, holding
it out with one hand for a moment before letting it
fall in a wispy pile on her chair. The naked woman
approached her fully-dressed husband. "I want you,
Butch," she said simply, putting her hands on his
shoulders and holding her face up to be kissed.
"But I'm all dirty." And tired. And limp from a
wild afternoon with Ginny.
"I like that. I want to see your dirty hands on my
soft breasts. I want to see the grease marks your
fingers make as you touch and stroke me." She placed
her husband's palms against her globes. "Pinch my
nipples, Butch. They're hard. Hard for you." It was
true. She'd been touching herself before Butch had come
in to make sure she was turned on.
Butch tweaked the stiff buds. His dirty fingertips
left oily black grime on the olive-brown flesh. He ran
his hands over the heavy white globes, leaving dark
stripes behind. Ellen looked down at herself. It did
look sexy: beauty defiled, defiled willingly, and
reveling in the marks. She looked back at Butch to see
if he was getting off on the scene. He was watching his
hands with interest, but with a kind of abstract
expression on his face instead of the lust that Ellen
expected to find there.
Worried, but game, she unbuttoned her husband's
shirt and fumbled with his belt. Letting his pants fall
to the floor, she pulled his shirt open and pressed
herself against his chest, wriggling as she slipped
slowly downwards. The woman knelt before her husband
and put her hand on his dick through his jockey briefs.
Half-hard. Well, I can fix that. She tugged down on the
waistband, exposing the semi-turgid meat. Leaving his
underwear halfway down his thighs, Ellen put one hand
on the base of his cock and directed the tip towards
her engulfing mouth. She bobbed her head slowly up and
down, sucking and working with her tongue. She had to
open her mouth wider as her efforts began to pay off.
Finally, she pulled her mouth slowly away. Time to put
that someplace else, she thought as she stood up and
helped her husband out of the rest of his clothes.
She drew him to the bed, flipping the covers back
and settling down on the sheet. She lay on her back
with her arms outstretched. "Come fuck me, Butch," she
pleaded. "I want you so bad."
Butch had no way out. He lowered himself between
Ellen's legs and inserted the tip of his prick in her
wet pussy. Trying to get into it, he looked her
straight in the eye as he drove his shaft home.
Ellen cried out her pleasure. "Oh, God. God, that
feels good."
Butch's hips kept up their beat. It didn't seem
like there was as much friction as before. When he
pushed his pelvis against hers, he couldn't feel his
cock pushing the walls apart. Something was wrong. He
slipped out, and reached down to put his cock back in.
It was almost completely flaccid. He froze.
Ellen reached her hand down to see what was the
matter, and her fingers encountered the shriveled, limp
joint. Her first reaction was anger, but she fought it
down. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked as solicitously
as she could.
"I dunno, babe," mumbled Butch. "I just don't
know."
"Are you sure it's not me?"
"No, baby. It's not you. I just haven't been
myself recently. Thinking about work too much, I
guess."
"Do you think you ought to see the doctor?"
"Let's just give it some time. It'll be OK."
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 2. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 3.
A slight quivering of the bed woke Butch in the middle
of the night. He rolled over to see what it was. Ellen
was curled in a little ball, crying softly, her body
trembling as she wept. Butch put his arm around her,
and she rolled into his embrace. "It is me, isn't it
honey," she sobbed, her arms folded up in front of her,
her fists pressed into her neck, her cheek wet and cold
against his. "I must be turning you off somehow. Is
there anything I can do different? Anything at all?
Just tell me and I'll do it. I love you, honey. I'll do
anything to make you happy."
Butch did his best to convince her that things
were fine, that he was just tired, nothing to worry
about. He had little success. Tender words had never
been his strength.
* * *
"Oh Daddy, come out here for a minute," Ginny called
from the garage.
Mindful of Ellen's presence in the kitchen, Butch
stepped warily to the door. "OK, but we don't have long
until dinner."
Ginny crooked her index finger from behind the
car. "Over here, Daddy," she called out in a singsong
voice. It sounded like a taunt.
With a sigh, Butch closed the door and worked his
way around the car.
"Down there," ordered his daughter, pointing at
the floor.
"Not now, honey. Mom could come out here any
minute," he protested nervously.
"I want you now," she said insistently, her
fingers fumbling with his fly. His cock rested half-
hard in her palm. "Get down on your knees Daddy," she
continued, "You're gonna eat me while you jerk yourself
off."
"It's not a good time, baby." Butch's palms
started to sweat.
"I need it. I'm so hot and sticky and itchy down
there." The girl pulled on her father's shoulders, and
he reluctantly sank to the floor. "That's good, Daddy,"
soothed Ginny as she pulled up her skirt. She dropped
it over Butch's head, put her hands outside, and pushed
his face against her panty-covered pussy. The older man
obediantly began to tongue the damp, slick nylon,
licking at the little ball of firmness right under the
crotch seam, and occasionally running his tongue along
the edge of the leg holes and lapping at the hairs that
had escaped their nylon prison. His hand went to his
swollen dick and began to stroke it as Ginny inflamed
him with her words: "Ooooh, yes. I've been thinking
about this all day. First I got horny in my English
class. Mr. Rudolph was wearing real loose-fitting
khakis -- the kind with a pleated front -- and I
thought I could see his dick when he moved around.
There was something that kinda of pressed against the
material every so often. I put my finger in my mouth
and started to suck on it. I'd look at him with my eyes
wide and move my finger in and out real slow, and
pretty soon I could see his cock for sure. He spent a
lot of time facing the blackboard so the class wouldn't
see, but when he'd turn around, he'd always look at me,
and I'd check him out. I started to wriggle a little
bit, and I let my dress work its way up over my knees,
then I spread my legs about a foot. I could see him
trying to glance up my skirt without making it obvious.
I kept thinking about his cock -- by then I could tell
it was pretty big -- and I got turned on. I thought
about kneeling on the floor in front of him and
unzipping his pants, then reaching in and scooping out
his dick. I thought about wrapping my lips around the
tip and hearing him suck in his breath, then playing
with his balls with both hands -- using my fingernails
to pinch and scratch them -- while I took him deep in
my mouth. My puss kept leaking juice, and I could feel
my panties getting wet. When we finally got out of
class and I started to walk down the hall I felt all
squishy between my legs -- when a breeze blew
underneath my skirt it felt cold on my pussy lips."
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 3. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 4.
Ginny broke off her story. "C'mon Daddy, I've got
to get these things off," she said urgently as she
stepped back and rolled her panties down her legs.
Butch blinked, dazed by the light. Ginny reached down
and tucked her damp panties into her father's shirt
pocket. He looked down at them numbly, and was caught
by surprise when his daughter stepped back over him and
flipped her skirt down around his shoulders. Once more
in darkness, he groped blindly for Ginny's pussy,
burying his face in her generous muff and following the
trail of scent to her core. The girl gasped as he found
her clit with his pointed tongue. "That's right,
Daddy," she cooed. "You're a good cuntlapper, aren't
you?" For an answer, Butch circled her clit rapidly
with his tongue.
"After English class we had math," Ginny
continued, beginning to breathe hard. "That was boring,
and all my juice dried on my panties. They were stiff
when I walked into Gym class. I left them on when I
changed into my shorts, and I got all sweaty when we
worked out. I wanted to get to lunch afterwards, so I
didn't take a shower -- just a little deodorant -- and
my panties were damp again as I ran over to the
cafeteria. By the time I'd finished lunch I was
starting to get itchy down there, and that made me
horny again. In geography class I wrapped my knees
around a table leg, rubbed my puss up against it, and
thought about Mr. Rudolph some more. It wasn't as good
when I couldn't look at him and try to turn him on,
though. After class I was all wet again, but when I
dried out the itch came back. I though about
scratching, but it wasn't that kind of an itch. Then I
thought of what could make it all better. Can you
guess?"
"Mmph," answered Butch in the negative.
"My daddy's sweet tongue," said the girl proudly.
"My daddy's long, wet tongue on my sweaty pussy,
reaching deep inside me to get at all the itchy parts.
And you know what, Daddy?"
"Mmm?"
"It feels even better than I thought," said Ginny,
panting. "C'mon, Daddy, make me come. I've been waiting
for this all afternoon. You know just how to do it.
Lick your little girl just the way she likes it. That's
right, Daddy, almost there. A little faster now. Oh,
yes! So good!" Ginny pressed her tender tissues hard
against her father's mouth and he drew a violent orgasm
from her as he himself shot his wad on the floor of the
garage.
Swaying a little, Ginny leaned against the car as
she uncovered her father's head. As she glanced at the
floor, her face contorted in disgust. "Oh, gross!" she
exclaimed, "You came all over my shoes!"
Butch stammered an apology and cleaned his
daughter's tennis shoes with his handkerchief. Ginny
flounced off into the house, and Butch prepared to
follow her, trying to brush the dust off his knees. In
a post-orgasmic depression, he stared at the wet
whiteness on the concrete floor. This was getting away
from him. He wanted to become his own person again, but
he knew that the next time his daughter wiggled her
sexy hips at him he'd find himself in a lather of sick
hornyness that would render him once again powerless.
Filled with self-revulsion, he started for the house.
When he was opening the door, he noticed Ginny's damp
panties still in his breast pocket. Guiltily, he balled
them up and stuffed them in his hip pocket with his
handkerchief....
* * *
...where Ellen discovered them two days later as she
was doing the wash. She was first confused, then
unbelieving, and finally furious. That son of a bitch
is fooling around with Ginny. His own flesh and blood.
He must have forced her, the bastard. She forced an icy
calm over herself. He won't get away with this. He's
gonna pay somehow.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 4. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 5.
Butch trembled before his wife. She pushed him
backwards onto the bed and held Ginny's panties in his
face. "What are these all about?" she screamed at him.
An impatient shove on the chest toppled Butch
backwards; he broke his fall with his elbows and lay
silent as his wife tossed the bit of white nylon on his
chest. "Did you fuck her, you prick?" she raged. She
put her hands on her hips and leaned over him. "You're
gonna tell me exactly what happened. The truth, you
understand. Not one little fib. I'm going to ask the
questions and you're gonna give me the answers, right?"
Butch nodded his head mutely. He was scared to
death, and he felt guilty and burdened by his secrets.
"How'd you get her drawers?" asked Ellen, her face
red with fury.
"She put them in my pocket," answered Butch in a
small voice.
"She what?"
"She took them off so I could, uh, lick her pussy
and I put them in my pocket."
"You forced her, didn't you? Did you just threaten
her, or did you hold her down? Fucking animal!"
"It wasn't like that. She made me eat her."
"Made you? Bullshit! How could that little tiny
girl make you do anything?"
"I like it when she makes me do things. It's
wrong, and I'm weak. I let her do it once, and then she
threatened to tell about the other times."
"You like what?"
"I've always liked the idea of women controlling
me. I never told you 'cause I thought it'd turn you
off, and I never did anything until Ginny got to me a
few weeks ago. Then I just couldn't stop."
Ellen was astonished. This had the ring of truth,
weird though it was. Her anger temporarily lost out to
her curiosity. "Controlling you -- what's that mean?"
Butch struggled to his feet and opened his secret
cache. His face red with shame, he thrust one of the
magazines into his wife's hands. She glanced at the
lurid cover, opened it a random, and gaped. "What are
those?" she asked.
"Nipple clamps. They hurt. She's putting them on
to teach him a lesson."
She was horrified and fascinated. "What kind of
lesson?"
"It doesn't really matter. She likes to do it, and
he likes to have it done. They just pretend that he
doesn't."
Ellen flipped the page. "What's this?"
"One of them is making him eat her while the other
one fucks him in the ass with a dildo."
"And this?"
"She's making him pull down her panties with his
teeth."
Ellen felt a little dizzy. The images in the
magazine were shocking and raw, but they stirred her in
some way. She tossed the thing aside. "Did Ginny hurt
you?" she asked, alarmed at the thought.
"Not really. She's more into degrading me and
making me serve her."
Ellen thought for a minute. "You know, it doesn't
make any difference whether it was her idea or your
idea," she said, not quite believing her words. "You're
the adult, and she's the child. You're supposed to be
man enough to do the right thing."
"I know that, and I'm not blaming her. It's all my
fault. I've been weak, and a fool, and nobody would
blame you if you threw me out of the house."
"I could do worse than that. I could turn you in
as a child molester."
The thought had done more than cross Butch's mind.
"I hope you'll forgive me. I'll do anything you say."
He sat on the bed and stared at the floor.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 5. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 6.
Ellen didn't know what to do. Her shock at the
pictures was fading into a sexy glow, but her anger was
returning. How dare he betray me? And with Ginny! And
when he couldn't get it up, he must have been fucking
her -- or whatever they did -- so much he was limp. And
then, I thought it was my fault. Shit, how could I be
so stupid! I cried and cried and he just let me go
on... She made a decision without even realizing she
had to decide anything. "Get undressed," she said in a
low, level voice, her anger in control and her ears not
believing what they heard coming from her mouth.
Butch fumbled his way out of his clothes and stood
before his wife with a stiffening cock and a servile
expression. Noticing his erection, she pulled a chair
up before him and sat down. "You let this thing run
your life," she said, giving it a little slap. Butch's
prick bobbled from side to side as he stood impassively
over his wife. Emboldened, she slapped his dick a few
more times with gradually increasing force. It rose to
full erection. Ellen marveled at the warm feeling
between her legs. She had no idea this kind of thing
could turn her on. She gripped his balls with her
fingernails. "Or maybe it's these," she growled,
twisting the sack back and forth. Butch just took it.
Ellen had another idea. "Turn sideways," she said
as she pulled on her husband's hips. She held his dick
in one hand while she ran the other over his furry
buttocks. Her gentle touch was ominous in the face of
her anger, and Butch waited nervously. The sweat
tricked out from under his arms and ran in thin
droplets down his sides as she drew out the moment. The
increased force of her grip on his cock was Butch's
first sign. that something was imminent, then Ellen
slapped him hard on the ass. The first blows hurt her
hand, but she kept at it for a minute or so. Butch's
cock jerked back and forth in Ellen's fist as he
reacted to her spanking, and the friction excited him.
The blows didn't hurt that much, and he loved the idea
of being punished by his wife.
Ellen soon realized that things weren't working
out the way she wanted. Her husband's heavily muscled
cheeks were hurting her hand. She stopped spanking, and
looked around the room. Seeing nothing obviously
useful, she stood up, stepped around Butch, and went
into the bathroom.
When she returned, Ellen's face was creased with a
thin smile. She held a long-handled hairbrush in one
hand, and tapped it lightly against the other palm,
letting Butch get a good look. The bristles felt sharp
against her flesh as she varied the force, trying to
see what effects she could get.
Ellen walked over and stood very close to her
husband and ran the brush through his matted chest
hair, then over his nipples. The coarse fibers bit into
the hard nubs. Still looking up at him, she trailed the
brush down his chest, across his belly, and finally
stroked the underside of his cock with the bristles.
Butch flinched as the sharp spines flicked against his
sensitive flesh, and Ellen's grim smile increased. She
sat back down so she could see what she was doing,
turned her husband to face her, and began an thorough
exploration of his swollen member. She couldn't get
much force from the underside, because his cock just
jumped upwards. From the top was better, and she tried
faster strokes for a while, gradually concentrating on
the head. After it was well sensitized, she started to
tap it rapidly with the ends of the coarse hairs,
moving the brush in short strokes, and moving her hand
around so she gave all parts of the helmet equal
attention. Butch gritted his teeth as the sharp
bristles bounced off his inflamed skin; it hurt, but
the drop of pre-come forming on the tip of his prick
showed Ellen how much it turned him on. She rapped the
brush against the clear fluid, splattering it around;
more welled up to take its place as Butch's fists
clenched in mixed pain and pleasure.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 6. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 7.
Looking for new territory, The grimly triumphant
woman slapped the inside of her husband's thighs with
her free hand. When he obediantly spread his legs, she
scraped the brush roughly over the interior of his
upper legs and reached between them to irritate his ass
cheeks, leaving reddened skin in her wake. His balls
were next; after a few side to side strokes, Ellen
returned to the sharp taps that had served so well on
her husband's cock. When she grew tired of that game,
she returned to the tip of his cock, but this time she
held the shaft firmly in place with one hand while she
lavished firm, short strokes on the soft flesh with
little flicks of her wrist. This new, rougher treatment
afforded Butch more pain, but he just bit his lower lip
and accepted it.
As Ellen grew more aroused, an urge to discard her
clothes developed. It had given her a feeling of power
to be fully dressed while her victim stood naked before
her, but she wanted the freedom to touch her tingling
nipples or her now-drenched pussy as well as the
ability to use her husband for her pleasure. Setting
the hairbrush aside, the dark-haired woman stood up and
put one foot on the chair. When Butch looked
inquisitively at her, she simply pointed at the ground,
and he knelt at her feet. "Take off my shoes," she said
evenly. He bent to his task, kissing her toes for good
measure before she changed feet. His willing servility
surprised and excited Ellen, and she began to think of
things that would take advantage of it. She stood
barefooted before him, and gradually pulled her skirt
up. "Kiss my knees," she breathed. "Now higher," she
whispered as she exposed another inch of leg. Butch
followed the hem of the skirt slowly upwards,
reverently pressing his lips to his wife's soft skin.
She finally exposed the small white triangle at
the crotch of her panties. He went for it, but she held
up a hand, and he pulled backwards and watched her
gradually expose the entire front of her panties. The
expanse of white nylon was shadowed by Ellen's thick,
dark bush. A few hairs peeked out of the legs. Butch
studied the way his wife's pussy lips pushed against
the tight slick cloth, forming a shallow trough. She
beckoned him with her forefinger, and he placed his
lips gently against the tender place where her labia
separated. "Just the skin," she cautioned with some
reluctance; Butch ran his lips along the hem of his
wife's panties, sniffing her spice as her neared her
core. She slowly turned around, and her followed the
elastic around her hips and along the furrow at the
bottom of her buttocks, sniffing a funky scent as he
crossed over from one cheek to the other. As Ellen
completed the circle and stood once more facing her
husband, she held the front of her skirt up with one
hand and began to unbutton her blouse with the other.
Butch kept up his respectful kisses as she tossed the
garment on the floor. The skirt dropped over his
shoulders as Ellen used both hands to unbutton its side
fastening, then she flicked it away over her head and
threw it on the blouse.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 7. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
_ _
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 8.
"Kiss me here," she said, pointing to a place
between her navel and the top of her bikini panties.
The pressure of Butch's lips was just right: soft,
subservient, and deferential. Butch held his face still
as his wife presented various parts of her belly for
his obeisant adoration. While doing so, she unsnapped
her brassiere and pulled it down her arms. As the
garment landed on the growing pile of clothes, Ellen's
fingers found her stiff brown nipples, pinching them as
she watched her husband grovel. It felt right to give
herself pleasure as he attended reverently to her.
Giving each long bud a final tweak, Ellen slowly slid
her hands over her stomach to her hips. Hooking her
thumbs in the waistband of her panties, she eased them
down slowly. Butch followed the elastic down her belly,
kissing each increment of her hairy mound as she
unveiled it to him. When he reached her sticky pussy
lips, she enjoyed his attentions for a minute, then
pushed her undergarment suddenly down her legs, tossed
it aside and stepped abruptly over her servile husband.
Her momentum forced his head back. and he felt the
muscles at the back of his neck compress as she pressed
down on him, grinding her wet cunt violently against
his lips. Without a word she bore down harder and
harder, until Butch collapsed backwards onto the floor.
Even then, Ellen followed him down, and came to rest
sitting firmly on his face as he lay on his back. She
ground herself against him without mercy, inwardly
rejoicing when his tongue came out to meekly lap at her
inner folds. She put her hands on his forehead to
steady herself as she rode him, using his tongue, his
lips, and his nose for her satisfaction. She bucked
back and forth in wild abandon as her husband attempted
valiantly to lick at whatever she presented him. As her
fervor became more intense, she pressed her clit
against his mouth, rotating her hips in tiny circles.
Butch lapped the hard little button single-mindedly,
lashing it in circles until Ellen shrieked her ecstasy,
digging her fingers into his hair and pressing the back
of his head into the carpet.
Shocked by the intensity of his wife's release,
Butch lay quietly until her movements ceased. Ellen,
recovering from her passion, looked into his eyes with
an expression he didn't recognize: an intense mixture
of passion, excitement, and mastery that frightened as
much as excited him. Be careful what you wish for, a
voice repeated from the recesses of his mind. He had as
much control of the situation as a twig in the rapids,
and he hung on for the ride.
Ellen recovered and struggled to her feet,
stepping on her husband's face in the process. She sat
heavily upon the chair, casting around until she found
the hairbrush. She held it up for his inspection, and
broke the silence: "That was for me. This is for you.
Stand up. Now bend over my lap. Leave your feet on the
floor, and rest your weight on your hands." Butch's
body formed an inverted V, with his cock coming to rest
between his wife's thigh's and his ass pointing at the
ceiling. She stroked the bristles over his defenseless
buttocks and between his hairy cheeks, giving him
plenty of time to imagine the coming torment. Flipping
the hairbrush over so that the flat part faced
downwards, Ellen pulled back her hand and delivered a
solid blow to her husband's backside. The sound wasn't
as crisp as she had hoped -- the hairbrush didn't cover
enough area -- but Butch flinched satisfyingly, and a
bright red mark appeared on his buttock. "That hurt?"
she asked in a tone that indicated that she didn't care
much one way or the other.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 8. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
_ _
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 9.
"Uhh."
That sounded like an affirmative to her. More
swats followed, each delivered with persuasive
authority, and soon Butch was writhing. His ass turned
beet-red under his wife's assault; the efforts made her
breathe hard, but she kept it up until the muscles in
her arm begged for relief. As he twisted back and forth
in her lap, Ellen felt Butch's prick work its way down
between her legs; she clamped her thighs together,
trapping its warm stiff bulk. It felt good there,
jerking to and fro in time with her swings. Ellen
rested her arm for a moment, running the bristles of
the hairbrush over her husband's reddened buttocks. The
stiff fibers grated painfully on the sensitized skin,
and Butch's pitiful whining, instead of causing
sympathy in his wife, made her eager for more.. She
returned to the spanking, this time with the bristles
instead the back of the brush, experimenting with, and
finally perfecting a raking motion at the end of each
stroke. Butch yelps were gratifyingly heartfelt.
Her arm tired before Ellen felt complete. She
slumped over her husband, her heavy breasts grazing his
back, and her arm outstretched towards his feet. As she
toyed with the brush, rubbing it against the backs of
Butch's knees, a way to continue his travail with less
effort occurred to her. Pulling herself erect again,
she brought the handle of the hairbrush to her lips,
and slowly, voluptuously, sucked it into her mouth. It
felt smooth, round, and gratifyingly large as she
coated it liberally with her saliva. Ellen smiled
inwardly as she rubbed the slippery probe insistently
up and down the crack of her husband's ass. Feeling the
yielding center, she pried his cheeks apart with her
free hand so she had a nice clear view of the way his
crinkled pink rosette bend inward and dilated as she
forced the handle home. She had to press harder that
she though she would, but Butch's tense sphincter
muscles finally surrendered to her patient attack, and
the hairbrush sank suddenly in, stopping only when the
bristles poked into the inside of his buttocks. Butch's
discomfort was acute, but he only grunted -- he'd never
been as turned on in his life. Gripping the top of the
hairbrush, Ellen began to fuck Butch's ass with the
handle, twisting it back and forth as she rammed it
home, her lips a thin line as she grimly exacted her
retribution. "Like that?" she said through clenched
teeth.
Butch only moaned.
"Doesn't matter anyway. I don't care if you like
it or not. You're gonna take it either way, aren't
you?" The brush moved in and out a little faster.
Butch's hips jerked in time with the strokes, and Ellen
clenched her thighs tightly together, capturing her
husband's squirming cock in their warm embrace. She
fucked him harder and faster until Butch could take no
more: his body stiffened and his hot emissions squirted
between his wife's clasping thighs.
* * *
Ellen lay beside her sleeping husband and stared at the
ceiling. The evening had exhausted him, but her mind
swarmed with strange, terrifying, but somehow
intoxicating thoughts. The balance of power had
shifted, and she intended to see that the old order
never returned. She had to plan. The next day or so
could be crucial. The first thing was Ginny. Three was
too many for the house now; either Butch or Ginny would
have to go, and Ellen had plans for Butch. The next
thing was a new set of rules for her husband. There
would be some sweeping changes in that department.
Let's start with housework...
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 9. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 10.
Butch rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. His
wife stood naked over him, examining his sleepy face
critically with her arms crossed. He gave a little
start. "Honey..." he began blearily.
Ellen needed to make sure things got off on the
right foot. "Throw the covers on the floor," she said
icily. Might as well get him used to obeying orders.
She remembered something she'd seen in the magazine. It
seemed like a good way remind her husband of his
degraded status. She was she unsure of the extent of
her power over him. She'd have to figure out a way to
make sure he got something out if it. Then she was
pretty sure he'd go for it.
Butch threw the sheets back, exposing his hard
body and his limp dick. "Sure thing, babe..."
"On your back. Head at the foot of the bed. Arms
at your side."
Butch wriggled into position. In some ways, this
was his dream come true, but there was an element of
danger that hadn't figured in his fantasies. Thankful
that his wife wasn't going to throw him out on the
street, he didn't think much beyond the moment.
Butch looked up at his wife as she came over to
the side of the bed, spread her legs and pressed her
knees against the mattress. He couldn't see her face
very well, and that bothered him. He was a little
worried about where she was coming from. She put one
knee on the bed, and he couldn't see her face at all,
just her slightly puffy pussy lips peeking from her
hairy muff. The other knee hit the bed, and Ellen
lowered her crotch toward her husband's face. "Tongue
out," she commanded. Her clit brushed against his nose,
her labia opened and passed over his mouth, but kept on
going. Ellen rotated her hips until her brown, smelly
ring touched her husband's outstretched tongue. "Kiss
my ass, you bastard," hissed the woman, suddenly
letting Butch feel her full weight. Butch thrust his
tongue as far as he could into his wife's greasy
asshole. She was fairly relaxed, and he got deep enough
to lick against her inner walls. It took a few seconds
before he noticed that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't
speak, but he moaned in distress. Ellen,
misinterpreting his outburst, sat down even harder,
twisting her ass back and forth a little. Butch
complained more loudly, and she finally got the
message. His mouth still fully occupied, Butch, inhaled
gratefully through his nose.
Ellen reached for her husband's dick, limp no
more. She stroked it rapidly for a while, until she
recognized the signs that Butch was getting close, then
she slowed her pace to let him fall back down. As she
fisted him at a tantalizingly dawdling pace, she began
to inform her husband how things were going to be.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 14 - Pt 10. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 14 - Part 11.
"Can you hear me, Butch?"
"Uh-huh."
"Keep licking, while I talk to you."
"Mmm."
"You want to stay in this house?"
"Uh-huh."
"You want to stay out of jail?"
"Uh-huh." That seemed to be delivered with a
little extra intensity.
"Then from now on, I'm going to run things."
"Uh-huh."
"You're gonna do what I say, aren't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"No matter what?"
"Uh-huh."
"That's what I like to hear." Ellen lifted her
spongy cheeks from her husband's face, twisted around,
and sat on his chest, almost galling off in the
process. She put one foot above each of his shoulders,
grabbed her knees, and ooched her butt up until her
glistening pussy was about half a foot from his face.
"I was sure you'd see things my way," she said, fixing
Butch with her gaze.
"Whatever you say, honey," he responded, glancing
down at her cunt with a combination of apprehension and
hunger in his eyes.
Ellen reached across with her left hand and
grabbed her right knee, freeing up her right hand,
which fluttered down the back of her thigh and across
her black thatch. Smiling at her husband's evident
confusion, she worked her middle finger deep inside her
now-slippery asshole, then pulled it out and stuck it
in his mouth. "Suck on it," she ordered. Butch meekly
licked his wife's finger for a minute. It was nice and
slippery now. She slipped it back in her asshole, then
held it under his nose. "Wanna taste it some more?" she
taunted him.
Butch nodded submissively.
Now was the time for Ellen to find out how far she
could push her husband. Slipping her finger once more
into his mouth, she asked, "Taste good?"
"Mm-mmf," he answered affirmatively.
She went back for another load, and held her
finger to his nose again. "Smell my shit?" There. She
couldn't believe she'd said that.
"Uh-huh," replied Butch, staring back at her with
a puppy-dog expression.
"Now taste it," she said, sliding her finger
between her husband's slack lips.
Butch obediently sucked on her finger, running his
tongue eagerly around it. There really wasn't that much
taste, but the symbolism of the act excited Butch
immensely. His wife crooked her digit, and he tried to
lick under her nail.
Ellen was amazed. She'd thought that it would take
a lot more to bring Butch around. She was prepared to
threaten him until he gave in, and was relieved at her
early victory. What now? Should she let him come as a
reward? No, she wanted to keep him horny until she had
thoroughly established her dominance. Should she make
him get her off? Better, but only if she could do it in
a way that reinforced his subjugation. She leaned
forward, putting one foot on the floor above Butch's
head and leaving the other knee on the bed above his
shoulder. With both hands free now, she used the middle
finger of the left one to feed him little tastes of her
asshole while she stroked her clit with the index and
middle fingers of the right one. Pussy juice dripped
down onto Butch's sucked-in cheeks and Ellen pleasured
herself. She made herself take a long time to come.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 14. Continued next time, folks!
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 1.
The doorbell broke the tense silence. Bobby stood at
attention in his panties as he opened the door,
allowing Ginny access to the living room. The girl
stepped across the threshold, and stood for a moment
blinking as Bobby closed the door behind her.
Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and the girl
could see Pamela sitting on the couch wearing an off-
white linen suit, a blank expression on her face.
Pamela looked cool and relaxed to Ginny; for some
reason it made the girl angry that her aunt should look
so relaxed when she was hot and sweaty and feeling
frazzled. Her armpits were slimy with perspiration, and
her crotch felt damp where her shorts and her underwear
had bunched up between her thighs. She tugged absently
at the hems with one hand.
Bobby picked up Ginny's suitcase and started for
the stairs. The girl noticed him for the first time.
"What's he wearing?" she called out, incredulous. "He
looks so silly!" Bobby stopped and turned back towards
her, exposing the protrusion his erection made in the
thin material of his underwear. Ginny touched the
waistband of Bobby's panties, as if she needed a
tactile verification of what her eyes had told her. She
ran her hand down over his rod. "You're a horny
bastard, aren't you?" she said with a smirk. "Hung,
though," she muttered, impressed. Bobby stood
impassively as his cousin squeezed him gently through
his underwear; a slight blush formed on his cheeks.
Sensing her power over him, Ginny began to move her
hand more rapidly, fanning it lightly over Bobby's
meat. The boy groaned. His knees sagged slightly as he
let his cousin jack him off.
Ginny felt her confidence rise. She could dominate
this situation, too. All she'd have to do is keep on
top of the two of them and she'd be running the show
again. She let go of Bobby's cock long enough to pull
the waistband of his panties out and tuck the elastic
under his balls, exposing his tool. She cupped his rod
in one hand and tickled his balls with her other.
Bobby's fingers lost their grip on the suitcase, and it
fell to the floor with a thump, then toppled over on
its side.
A sharp sound split the air, and Ginny's ass
stung. Dropping Bobby's prick, she turned around just
in time to catch a slap across her face. She covered
her reddening cheek with her hand as Pamela scolded
her: "Get your hands off him! That's just what you're
going to have to learn not to do. When I get through
with you it's going to be 'Yes, Ma'am' and 'No, Ma'am'
and you're going to be the passive one. Do you
understand that?"
Ginny stammered incoherently. She couldn't believe
her aunt would treat her that way.
"Never mind," said Pamela. "You'll see. Now
undress."
Ginny's hand went automatically to the top button
of her shirt before her mind engaged. She paused.
"Wh..what?"
"You heard me. Get your clothes off, and do it
quick."
"No fucking way." The girl stood rigid, her arms
crossed on her chest.
"Bobby, grab her arms."
Bobby pinned his cousin's elbows behind her back
as Pamela began to unbutton Ginny's shirt, her face
impassive and her manner methodical. The girl struggled
a little, but gave up when she saw it wasn't getting
her anywhere. Pamela finished with the buttons, reached
inside the shirt, and unfastened the front of Ginny's
thin white bra. Pushing the material aside, the older
woman weighed one of the girl's breasts in her hand,
nodded once, and rolled Ginny's olive nipple between
her thumb and forefinger. To Ginny's embarrassment, she
was almost instantly rock-hard. Pamela trailed her hand
across the girl's stomach and unbuttoned the waistband
of her jeans, then slowly pulled down the zipper. The
metallic sound seemed loud in the room. Pamela pushed
Ginny's jeans over her hips and down her legs until the
girl stood with a pile of blue cloth at her ankles
capped with a tangle of white panties.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 1 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 2.
"Let's see what we have here," said the older
woman as she pushed Ginny's shirt and bra up on her
shoulders. Bobby tugged the material down the girl's
arms and dropped the garments on the floor. Pamela ran
a fingernail over one erect nipple, then slowly slid
her finger down the girl's belly, scratching the navel
in passing, and plunging into her niece's dark bush.
Ginny clamped her legs together and twisted to one
side, dislodging her aunt's hand.
"Insubordinate, aren't you?" Pamela muttered
coolly. "I can fix that, you know," she said, turning
and walking to the couch. "Bobby, bring her over here.
No, just pick her up by the arms and drag her over.
That's good. Down by the end. No, facing the couch. Now
bend her over the arm. Good. Now sit down. A little
closer to the arm; you can put her head in your lap.
Now just hold her right there." Ginny lay face down
over the arm of the couch, her feet enmeshed in her
pants and her face pressed into Bobby's underwear.
Remembering Ginny's teasing a few minutes earlier, the
boy tangled his fingers in her hair and rubbed her nose
against his stiff shaft as Pamela took a position at
the end of the couch.
Pamela ran her fingers gently over Ginny's ass
cheeks, cupping the girls buns in her palms, caressing
and patting, enjoying their soft warmth. One long, cool
finger insinuated itself into Ginny's cleft and probed
briefly, but insistently, at the girl's dark brown
asshole. Ginny let out a little gasp, but before she
could protest, Pamela had moved on, and her fingers
played over her niece's pussy lips. The girl clamped
her legs closed, trapping her aunt's hand.
"Open up," said Pamela in the voice of a mother
coaxing her two-year-old to eat some vegetables. Ginny
just squeezed harder. Her aunt twisted her hand free
and delivered a brisk slap to Ginny's left cheek.
Ripples spread across Ginny's buttocks, and the girl
yelped briefly. Pamela spanked the other side, then
stopped to observe the red hand prints that slowly
formed. "Now will you relax for me?' she asked in a
cool tone. Ginny said nothing, but the firm set of her
ass cheeks was answer enough.
Pamela's voice grew stern. "Around this house,
disobedient little girls are punished. Virginia, you're
going to get a spanking. It's a spanking that you
richly deserve, not only for the way you're acting, but
for what brings you to this house. Yes, I think you
have a good one coming." Pamela moved to the coffee
table and picked up the Ping-Pong paddle she had placed
there earlier. Ginny couldn't see her, but she heard
the whistle as her aunt took a swat at the air, and her
heart sank.
Pamela stood, her feet spread for balance, in
front of the arm of the couch. She braced her left hand
against the small of Ginny's back, and, leaning across
her, swung the paddle crisply into the girl's right
cheek. A satisfying crack shattered the silence. Ginny
yelped briefly, but the sound was muffled by Bobby's
belly. Pamela ignored the outburst, pursed her lips,
and began to alternate sides. She didn't hit very hard,
and there was plenty of time between the strokes, but
after a few minutes, Ginny's bottom felt quite hot. It
wasn't that it hurt so much -- though it did smart --
but that she felt so embarrassed and helpless. The girl
began to sniffle. This was so humiliating! Beyond the
degradation, there was a sexual aspect to it that
confused the teenager, and turned her on at the same
time.
"You're hurting me, Aunt Pamela," she whined.
The reply was matter-of-fact: "It's supposed to
hurt, dear. That's the whole idea." The spanks
continued at their unhurried pace.
Ginny wriggled her hips from side to side. "Oh
stop, Aunt Pamela," she sputtered through her tears.
"I'll be good. I'll be very good."
"I'll decide when your spanking is over, young
lady. Bobby, rub her mouth against the head of your
prick."
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 2 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 3.
Bobby, who had been thinking about how it would
feel to have his cousin suck his cock, tugged her head
up towards his belly button and pressed her lips to his
nylon-covered rod. The small puddle of tears felt cool
where her head had been on his belly.
Ginny relaxed her lips, and they clung limply to
the head of his prick. She liked the feel of it. She
licked slowly against the slippery cloth, becoming more
aroused. Pamela paused, and ran her hand over Ginny's
darkening buttocks; her fingers fluttered between the
girl's legs and pressed lightly against her generously-
furred pussy before Pamela resumed the spanking.
Pamela spoke again: "Now, Virginia, I'd like you
to do a little meditation on humility." The pace slowed
down even more, but the blows came harder. "Think about
obedience." Spank. "Think about temperance." Spank.
"Think about restraint." Spank. "Think about modesty."
Spank. "Think about purity." Spank. "Think about
virginity." "Too late for that, isn't it?" Spank.
Pamela laid the paddle on the arm of the couch,
and grazed her fingers lightly over her niece's bright-
red backside. Ginny whimpered softly, all the fight
gone away. Her aunt explored her private places,
including those that had previously cause rebellion. As
Pamela's fingers prized open her outer lips and stroked
the pink petals beneath, Ginny realized that she was
wet. Not just a little bit, but sopping, she thought as
another wave of embarrassment washed over her. And Aunt
Pamela knows it, too. The older woman's middle finger
carried some of Ginny's slippery juices down to her
clit and teased the hard little nubbin with leisurely
strokes. Ginny's excitement and her humiliation rose as
her aunt expertly caressed her, finally bringing her to
a shuddering climax. Her reddened cheeks quivered as
she shook in ashamed ecstasy.
Pamela motioned to Bobby, and he helped push the
girl upright. She stood at the end of the couch, her
face flushed and tear-stained, and her lips trembling.
"And now, Virginia," spoke Pamela evenly, "You will
obey me completely and willingly."
"Y..yes, ma'am," replied the girl meekly.
"You will comport yourself with humility and
discretion in my presence. You will address me politely
and respectfully, and you will willingly carry out
whatever duties I assign to you."
"Yes, Aunt Pamela." Ginny was already thinking of
how to get out of this situation, but it didn't seem as
though she had many options right then.
"Remove the remainder of your clothes." Ginny sat
on the arm of the couch and fumbled with her jeans. She
had to pull them up her legs to get at her shoelaces,
then she slipped off her shoes and socks, pushed her
pants and panties over her ankles with her feet, and
looked at her aunt with a question in her eyes. "Pick
them up," continued Pamela, "Go over there and get your
blouse and brassiere, and follow me." The three
ascended the stairs: Pamela leading, Ginny following at
a respectful distance, and Bobby bringing up the rear,
his eyes fastened on his cousin's reddened rear, which
wobbled just inches from his face. Nice buns, he
thought, as he watched them wobble up and down. It'd
feel great to sink your face in there. He wondered what
her asshole looked like; he hoped he'd find out soon.
The group gathered in Pamela's bedroom. "Put your
clothes on the chair, dear," said Pamela to Ginny as
she busied herself in the closet. The older woman
emerged unfolding a white rubber sheet, which she
spread over the bed. "Lie down on your stomach,"
ordered Pamela.
The sheet felt cool on the young girl's belly as
she wriggled into position, struggling against the
grippy surface. She crossed her hands under her chin,
and watched Pamela disappear into the bathroom. Cabinet
doors opened and closed around the corner where Ginny
couldn't see, and she heard water running in the sink.
Bobby stood impassively, his panties drooping a little.
They were damp and semi-transparent in front, and
traces of Ginny's lipstick marked the place where her
lips had been. The bedroom felt hot after the cool of
the downstairs part of the house. Ginny wondered what
was taking her aunt so long.
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End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 3 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 4.
After a few more minutes, Pamela came back into
the bedroom, carrying a jar of Vaseline and a large red
rubber bag to which was attached a thin white hose. "On
your hands and knees, Virginia," said Pamela in a voice
that brooked no nonsense. Ginny worked her way into
position. "Head back," said the woman absently, and the
teenager looked her aunt squarely in the face. Pamela
held the jar out to Bobby, and he stepped forward to
take it. "You know what to do," she said ominously.
Bobby disappeared out of Ginny's sight as she continued
to gaze into her aunt's eyes. She felt Bobby's greasy
fingers probing between her buttocks, and started to
jerk away, but thought better of it when she saw the
look on Pamela's face. Her jaw set with the effort of
holding still, she grimaced as Bobby worked two
slippery fingers deep into her anus, twisting them back
and forth for what seemed like a long time.
For his part, Bobby was thoroughly enjoying the
pasty feeling of his pretty young cousin's rectal
passage and the delightful way her sphincter squeezed
his fingers irregularly. He moved his hand back and
forth as he watched his knuckles disappear into Ginny's
brown, crinkled ring. He applied more jelly, even
though she was already quite slippery. His fingers
moved easily inside her as he began to pump in and out
more rapidly. Maybe one more finger...
"That's enough, Bobby." His aunt's command broke
his concentration. He pressed his fingers in as far as
they went and leaned against them, just to give his
cousin one last thing to think about, then slowly
pulled them out, wiping his hand on her still-red
cheeks and leaving a faint brown trail.
"Do you know what this is?" asked Pamela as she
held up the bag.
"I think so," answered her niece in a bemused
tone. "But I'm not sick."
"This is more of a treatment for your head than
your body. You will learn obedience, and you will learn
humility. You will take all the water I give you with
no complaint. You will hold it inside for as long as I
wish. You will expel it when I am ready. Do you
understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes ma'am."
"That's better." Pamela walked over to where Bobby
stood. "Hold this," she said as she handed him the bag
and bent over her niece's kneeling form. The older
woman tested the teenager's opening with her finger.
"You did a good job, Bobby," she murmured as she placed
the nozzle at the center of Ginny's brown ring and
pushed. The thin tube seemed small after the boy's
fingers, but its hardness seemed somehow foreboding.
Pamela worked the tube back and forth, then tried
several angles, muttering negatively to herself. She
didn't seem to be able to get the nozzle just where she
wanted. She pulled it out and started all over. All
this probing and waiting made Ginny nervous, and part
of her hoped that her aunt would just get on with it,
just as part of her dreaded the coming invasion of her
body. After several more trials, Pamela pronounced the
nozzle properly inserted. "Hold the bag up high,
Bobby," she prompted, "We're almost ready to start."
Turning her attention back to the girl, she asked, "Are
you ready, Virginia?"
"I..I guess so," Ginny said in a small voice.
"I think you should ask for it."
"What?" Ginny's answer conveyed shock and
confusion.
"You heard me, young lady," said Pamela in a
hardening tone.
"Uh, OK. Go ahead and give it to me," the girl
answered with resignation.
"You can be more polite than that."
"Please. Please give it to me."
"Give you what?"
"The, uh, enema. Please give me the enema."
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 4 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 5.
"Very well," said Pamela, flipping the catch on
the clamp. The water felt hot as it rushed into the
girl's ass; she hadn't expected that. The first cramps
came almost immediately, and Pamela, seemingly knowing
Ginny's sensations exactly, stopped the flow for a few
moments. When it resumed, the cramping had diminished.
Ginny tried to relax as her belly slowly expanded.
Pamela noticed that Ginny's head hung down. "Pull
your head up, young lady," she ordered. "Look straight
ahead at the wall."
The girl raised her head. The stiff posture her
aunt forced on her made the scene into more of a ritual
for her. She held the position with some difficulty.
The warmth of the water and the heat of the room made
Ginny break into a sweat; Pamela observed with
satisfaction as the girl's back became first slightly
shiny, then thoroughly wet.
Pamela stopped the flow again; the bag hung limp,
with perhaps a third of the water remaining. She
reached between Ginny's thighs and found her clit
swimming in slippery juices. The older women massaged
the little nubbin with her middle finger, adroitly
exciting the girl, but delivering all the emotional
warmth of a milkmaid at a cow. Ginny felt put down, but
started to move her hips in little circles as her aunt
got to her anyway. "How do you feel, dear?" Pamela
asked solicitously as she removed her hand.
"Cramps. Full." Ginny forced the words out with
ragged breaths. In truth, the cramps were fading, but
the young girl was beginning to enjoy the part of the
victim.
"I think you can take some more," said Pamela with
assurance, all the concern gone.
"No. Please, no."
Pamela ignore the girl's pleas, and unclamped the
tube. Ginny sighed as she felt the pressure increase.
Perspiration poured down her face and she felt droplets
running down her arms. After what seemed like a long
time, her aunt broke the silence: "That's all dear. Now
we'll take the nozzle out." She wiggled the plastic
tube experimentally. "Clamp down now, I don't want you
to make a mess." Pamela watched as her niece's
sphincter tightened, then slowly pulled out the tube. A
few drops of water ran from Ginny's asshole and
disappeared into the nest of dark hair between her
legs. Now that the tube was gone, Ginny was more
conscious of the pressure in her rectum. She squeezed
extra hard to keep from leaking.
"Can I...can I go to the bathroom now?" whimpered
the girl.
"Not just yet, dear," replied her aunt. "I'll tell
you when. Just now I have something else in mind. "Go
down to that end of the bed, Bobby," she said, pointing
to the place where Ginny's hands gripped the sheet.
Bobby looked around for some place to put the bag. "On
the sheet, there," offered Pamela. Bobby awkwardly put
the bag down and draped the hose over Ginny's ankles,
then stood facing the girl in his appointed place. The
older woman came around behind Bobby, reached around
his waist, and pulled the front of his panties down,
allowing his stiff cock to spring out. It bobbed up and
down, finally curving up towards the ceiling a few
inches from Ginny's face. She watched it avidly,
licking her lips in anticipation of what surely was
coming next. Her aunt didn't disappoint her. "Virginia,
I want you to hold the water in while you take Bobby's
prick in your mouth."
Ginny tried to keep from appearing too eager. She
made her mouth into a tight little more, and pressed
her lips to the tip of her cousin's cock, letting then
open only enough for her to lick the slit. Without
opening her mouth, she slowly pressed forward, letting
the velvety helmet force its way between her soft,
clinging lips.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 5 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 6.
Moving even more slowly, she worked her way down
the shaft, using her cheeks and tongue expertly. When
she pulled back, Bobby's rod glistened with her saliva.
She tilted her head up and gave the boy a sexy look,
then swallowed him again. His cock touched the back
of her throat, and she tilted her head back and took
it in as far as she could, coming within an inch of
pressing her lips to the curly hairs at the base of
Bobby's pole. Bobby was impressed, just as his cousin
had intended.
Pamela walked back to check on Ginny's water
retention, and to give the girl's clit another slow
massage. Bobby was getting close now, and he looked
quizzically at his aunt. She shook her head
emphatically. Her nephew sighed; he knew he could hold
on, but it looked like it would be a while before he
got to come. After a few minutes, Ginny realized that
something was wrong. Bobby's prick was, if anything,
even harder, and he was moaning a little, but he hadn't
shown any signs of coming, and Ginny was giving him the
best cock-sucking she could. She knew she was good, but
she didn't seem to be able to get her cousin off. Her
jaw muscles were beginning to ache, and the pressure in
her ass was starting to bother her. She redoubled her
efforts, sweating even more profusely. Perspiration ran
down her breasts and hung in drops from the taut brown
nipples as they danced back and forth, finally falling
onto the sheet with soft plops.
Bobby was starting to wonder how much longer he
could last. Ginny's mouth was hot and slippery, and the
way she used her tongue was incredible. Then she'd give
him one of those doe-eyed looks with her hair all
matted down with sweat, and he could hardly resist
shooting his wad down her throat. He gritted his teeth.
His whimpers had pain and longing mixed in with the
enjoyment.
Pamela had been teasing her niece's clit just hard
enough to keep her high, but after about ten minutes,
she took pity on Bobby and picked up the pace. Ginny
started to moan deep in her throat. Bobby looked at his
aunt and formed the word 'now' with his lips. She shook
her head again, and brought her niece to a shuddering
climax. Bobby pulled his cock away when he felt her
mouth tremble, and she cried aloud as she rode a long
rippling set of waves, squeezing as hard as she could
with her sphincter, which somehow enhanced the
experience. Pamela paid close attention, but her new
charge didn't lose a drop.
When her aunt joined Bobby in front of her,
Ginny's attention had focused more and more on the
pressure in her belly. While she had been occupied in
trying to get Bobby off, her concentration had been
diverted, but now the girl was acutely conscious of her
need to void the fluid that filled her. "Can I go now,
Aunt Pamela?" she pleaded.
"Soon, dear. But first I want to talk to you. Did
you enjoy Bobby's prick?"
"Uh, yes, ma'am. I'm sorry if that's the wrong
answer, but I really did."
"It's OK for you to enjoy what I make you do, but
you are not to become sexually involved in any other
circumstances. Do you understand?"
"Yes'm." That might be hard to make good on, but
what else could she say?
"What do you call what you did with Bobby?"
"You mean what do I call it when I'm talking with
my girlfriends?"
"That's right."
"I was sucking his cock."
"How crude. Well, I'll use your words. Have you
sucked other boys cocks before?"
"Y..yes'm."
"I thought you looked like you've had some
practice. Are you a good cock-sucker?"
"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that, but I
guess I am."
"When you suck a boy's cock, does he usually
ejaculate in your mouth?"
"Uh, sure."
"And then what do you do?"
"I swallow it."
"All of it?"
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 6 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 7.
"I told you I was a good cock-sucker." Ginny's
confidence was beginning to come back, but she wished
her aunt would get on with whatever this was so she
could get to the bathroom.
"But Bobby didn't ejaculate, did he?"
"No."
"Did you want to taste his semen?"
"Yeah, but I couldn't make him come."
"Bobby has learned self-control since he's been
staying with me, and I didn't want him to reach orgasm.
Can you guess why not?"
"I dunno."
"I have other plans for him. Those plans involve
you, my dear."
"They do?"
"That's right. Why don't you run along to the
bathroom, and while you're sitting on the toilet, you
might be thinking about what those plans might be."
"I can go now."
"Yes, Virginia. You've done very well so far."
Pamela stepped back and motioned towards the bathroom
door. Pamela scrambled to her feet and walked quickly
through it, taking tiny steps so she wouldn't loose
control. The door closed, and Bobby and Pamela were
alone.
Pamela wasted no time. "Take off your panties and
lie on the bed on your back," she ordered Bobby. "I'm
so horny I can't see straight." The boy shucked off his
underwear and tossed the garment on the pillow, then
rolled onto the rubber sheet from the foot of the bed,
coming to a stop with his head towards his aunt, who
pulled up her tight linen skirt, reached under it and,
wriggling with the exertion, pushed her pale peach
panties in uneven increments down her legs. Standing on
one leg at a time, she stepped out of the lacy
undergarment, then held it up and inspected it. "These
things are soaked!" she exclaimed, giving the crotch a
little sniff. "Whew." Pamela arranged her fingers along
the outside of the double-ply material between the legs
of her panties, bent over her nephew, and rubbed the
inner panel over his face, She worked methodically,
making sure that Bobby's forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw,
and lips were uniformly coasted with her essence.
Tossing her underwear aside, Pamela scissored her
legs over the boy, and sat on his chest facing his
head. She leaned forward and grabbed his hair, pulling
herself forward as she worked her knees up to his
shoulders. Soon Bobby's face was engulfed in his aunt's
hairy, wet cunt. "No finesse, kid, just get me off,"
she hissed. Bobby had already found her clit, and he
worked it rapidly back and forth with the tip on his
tongue. Pamela's hips jerked back and forth urgently.
She had no thought of anything but her coming
satisfaction. Sometimes she found herself grinding her
pussy into her nephew's face so hard that he could
barely move his tongue. Now and then her motions were
so wild that she rubbed her nubbin against his jaw or
his upper lip. That felt good, too, but she centered
herself so she could thrust her clit at the boy's eager
tongue and find the release she craved. Her motions
grew more frenetic, and finally she gave a muffled cry
and went rigid, her fingers gripping Bobby's hair
painfully as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure
flooded her body. She relaxed for only a few seconds
before she was back with her hot cunt pressed against
her nephew's mouth. "Again," she ordered fiercely.
Bobby did his best.
It was many minutes before Ginny emerged from the
bathroom. Several times she had thought she was done,
only to feel a new set of cramps that forced her to sit
back down. After several attempts, she finally walked
over to the sink without feeling the need to rush back
to the toilet. She'd stopped perspiring, and she felt
sticky where her sweat was beginning to dry. She raised
one arm and took a whiff of her armpit. Geez, she
thought, I smell like a goat. Maybe I should wash up.
But it had taken so long that she was too embarrassed
to take any more time, so she contented herself with
washing her hands.
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End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 7 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 8.
She smiled weakly as she entered the bedroom. Her
aunt was standing by the bed with her arms crossed,
looking stern. Bobby was naked, his erection as big as
ever. His lips were puffy and red, and his eyes were
just a shade unfocused. Ginny wondered what had
happened while she was occupied in the bathroom. She
glanced at the bed and saw two pairs of panties on the
pillow, and was pretty sure she knew. I'd like to sit
on that stud's face myself, she thought. I'll bet he
knows what to do with that sweet tongue. Look at her,
though. She's so cool about the whole thing. You'd
never know what happened from looking at her.
Pamela brought her out of her reverie. "Have you
thought about what I said?"
Ginny drew a blank. All the time in the bathroom
she had been thinking only of her immediate needs. "Uh,
I forgot," she mumbled.
"It was about Bobby." Pamela was annoyed; she'd
wanted her niece to worry while she was on the john.
"Oh, yeah. You've got plans for Bobby and me,"
Ginny answered nonchalantly. She knew she had screwed
up, but she didn't want to grovel.
Pamela's tone grew more conciliatory, as if she'd
decided not to make an issue of it. "Well, maybe you'll
like it. Would you like to have intercourse with
Bobby?"
"Will you punish me if I say the wrong thing?"
"No, dear. Just tell me the truth."
Ginny shot a hot glance at Bobby. "Well, yeah, I'd
like to try some of that." Bobby did look pretty good,
standing there with his muscles tautly flexed and his
enormous prick bobbing up and down.
"You're in luck, then."
This was too easy. Ginny took a few steps towards
her cousin, swinging her hips. "I guess it's you and
me, big boy."
"Just hold it right there, young lady. We're going
to do this my way."
The girl turned back to her aunt. "OK," she said
casually, holding out her hands palms up.
Pamela found the Vaseline jar. "Here," she
ordered, ""Put some of this on Bobby's cock."
Ginny's hands went automatically to the jar, but
she stopped with her eyes wide. "What's he need this
for?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
"Your rectum doesn't produce any lubrication,
dear, so we need to add some," the older woman
explained patiently, as if this were a sex-education
class.
"But he's too big!" the young girl wailed.
"Have you ever taken a boy there?"
"Never."
"That's funny, considering the range of your other
sexual appetites. Well, you'll be surprised what you
can do." Pamela stopped, then looked as if she'd had an
idea. "Never mind that right now," she said, taking
back the jar. "Lie down on the bed on your back with
your head towards me." When Ginny had complied, Pamela
beckoned Bobby over and arranged him straddling his
cousin on his hands and knees. He looked down into her
eyes, which shone with nervous anticipation. The older
woman pulled a straight chair over to the bedside, sat
in it, and ordered: "Young lady, put your hands over
your head." After untangling her arms from Bobby's,
Ginny did as she was told. She felt her aunt grip her
wrists and hold her arms in place. "Now Bobby," she
said smoothly, "Before you introduce your cousin to the
delights of anal intercourse, I think you should clean
her up." The boy looked up quizzically. "She got all
sweaty during her enema," his aunt continued. "She
really needs a bath. Maybe not a bath in a tub, but
some kind of bath. I think you should give her a bath
with your tongue. Lick all that sweat off, and get her
nice and clean before you take her up the anus. Start
with her forehead. That's a good boy."
The dried perspiration felt gritty as Bobby licked
Ginny's face. When he got to her lips he watched her
eyes. It seemed shockingly intimate to run his tongue
over his cousin's parted lips -- somehow more personal
than having her suck his cock. Bobby moved down to
Ginny's salty neck. "Lick her armpits," urged Pamela,
gripping her niece's wrists harder.
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End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 8 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 9.
Ginny though for sure that her smelly armpits would
turn Bobby off, but he lapped them avidly, working his
tongue against her short stubble until no salt taste
remained. She wished she'd shaved that day. His cock
trailed across her belly as he worked, leaving a little
trail of pre-come like a snail track. She liked the way
it felt heavy and massive as it flopped against her.
Bobby licked Ginny's ribcage and worked his way up to
her breasts, caressing her soft mounds until he took
one engorged nipple into his mouth. "Bite it," directed
his aunt. Ginny struggled a little as Bobby gripped his
cousin's hard little nub between his teeth and twisted
his head from side to side, elongating the crinkled
brown flesh and making her breast sway back and forth.
"A little harder," ordered Pamela.
"Ouch," complained Ginny as Bobby complied, "That
hurts."
"If you don't change your ways," said Pamela
evenly, "Lots of things are going to hurt. Do the other
one, Bobby."
Bobby worried his cousin's nipple while she
writhed on the bed in an agony of mixed feelings. The
idea of being controlled attracted and repelled her.
She was comfortable being the one giving the orders,
and being on the other end confused and frightened her.
But at the same time, it turned her on. She was
beginning to realize how much it excited her, and was
ashamed of it. Her aunt's hands bit into her wrists,
Bobby's teeth nipped at her sensitive flesh, and her
pussy was drenched.
"Lower now," prompted Pamela, and Bobby lapped at
Ginny's flat belly, pausing to root around in her navel
before dropping into her thick mass of pubic hair. He
skipped her pussy lips and licked at the inside of her
sticky thighs, as she spread her legs involuntarily.
The young girl's knees rose higher off the bed as Bobby
worked his way up into her dark nest. Her odor filled
his nostrils as he lapped at her lips until they
separated. She moaned as he found her clit. "Don't let
her climax," cautioned his aunt as Bobby teased the
hard little protrusion. Bobby carefully licked as
Ginny's hips thrust up and down.
"Let's turn her over," Pamela suggested, much
sooner than the girl would have liked. Bobby stood up
long enough to roll his cousin onto her face, them
knelt over her again. "Her buttocks," directed the
older woman, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders
and pressing them into the bed. Bobby lapped Ginny's
buns with broad strokes. "In the crack," came the
command, and Bobby started at the top and licked his
way down, spreading Ginny's cheeks with both hands as
the girl lifted her hips off the bed. "Now her anus,"
instructed Pamela. Bobby drove his tongue into his
cousin's tight little asshole. He couldn't get very
far, but he was having a great time trying. "Did she
clean herself well?" asked his aunt.
"Uh-huh," mumbled the boy, not pausing in his
task. There was just a little lubricant remaining.
The soft probings of Bobby's tongue delighted
Ginny; she worked her knees forward so he could go
deeper. When Pamela saw what was happening, she let go
of her niece's shoulders and helped the girl up to her
hands and knees. Bobby bore in deeper as his cousin's
tight little sphincter relaxed under his ministrations.
A low moan issued from Ginny's slack lips.
"Head up, girl," prompted Pamela, "I want to see
your face." The girl obeyed, and her aunt reached
between her legs, stroked her clit, and watched her
eyes unfocus. After a minute, Pamela backed away and
found the Vaseline jar and pushed Bobby's forehead away
from Ginny. Reluctantly, he straighten up and took the
container. He was more gentle with his cousin this time
as he coated her anal passage with grease. He put a
generous dollop on his cock and rubbed it in as he
walked forward on his knees and put one hand on Ginny's
hips.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 9 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 10.
Pamela had retaken her seat in front of Ginny when
Bobby first pressed the swollen tip of his cock to his
cousin's puckered brown ring. The girl gave a start and
twisted her head to one side, but Pamela held her
niece's cheeks between her hands and forced the girl to
look at her. Ginny's eyes grew wide as Bobby pressed
forward, holding down his prick with his thumb. The
helmet flattened against Ginny's tense sphincter. Bobby
pressed harder, but nothing happened. "She's real
tight, Aunt Pamela," he complained as he struggled.
"He's going to push his prick all the way up your
little virgin anus, young lady, whether you like it or
not," said Pamela sternly. "It'll be easier for you if
you relax, but he's going to take you either way."
Ginny let out her breath and tried to be calm.
After a few seconds, Bobby felt her opening dilate
enough to admit the head of his cock. He kept up the
pressure as he watched it slip smoothly inside, Ginny
cried out and her muscle spasmed around her cousin's
rod: it hurt, and she loosened her grip. Bobby fed her
another inch, then fastened both his hands on the bony
protuberances of his cousin's pelvis. Gripping her
there for support, he felt strong and powerful as he
forced another inch of meat up her asshole.
"That's enough for now," said Pamela as she
reached once more for her niece's clit, "Just take
short strokes there." Bobby moved his prick in and out
an inch or so at a time, enjoying the sight of it
disappearing up his cousin's rectum. Ginny moaned and
tossed her head from side to side, but her aunt
steadied it with one hand under her chin.
Ginny's initial hurt and fear gave way to a wild
excitement as her aunt teased her love button while her
cousin drilled her butt. "Oh shit, that's good," she
whimpered.
"I thought you'd learn to like it," smirked
Pamela. "Give her the rest, Bobby, but slowly."
Bobby began to move in a couple of inches, then
out one. Before long, his pubic hair was flattened
against his cousin's compact little buns and she was in
the grip of the most powerful sexual experience of her
life. Her cousin's cock felt huge; it seemed like it
filled her whole insides. She held her head still for
her aunt and looked deeply into her intense eyes. The
stern look on Pamela's face made Ginny want to show her
how disciplined she could be, and somehow that made the
feeling of being fucked in the ass even more powerful.
The feelings built on themselves, going round in a
circle until the patient, skillful fingers on her clit
drove the girl into a screaming orgasm. Even in the
midst of her ecstasy, she held her head rigid, her eyes
locked on her aunt's. Pamela kissed her full on the
mouth, her hot, slippery tongue darting possessively in
and out. Ginny hesitated, then returned the kiss
passionately as the waves of sensation flowed through
her body and drowned her qualms about lesbian behavior.
Her cousin's prick rammed up her butt, her aunt's tongue
in her mouth -- it was so nasty and hot and wild and
strong that it made her dizzy.
Ginny's orgasm triggered Bobby's and he shot thick
ropes of sperm into her clinging passage; she barely
felt his cock twitch and shoot, so overcome was she.
Ginny collapsed on the bed with Bobby still in her ass,
sweaty and satiated. Pamela stroked her matted hair as
she whimpered quietly. With a groan, Bobby pushed
himself up, gradually withdrawing his pole from his
cousin's asshole; the orifice gaped open for a few
seconds before squeezing shut slowly. Pamela rolled her
niece onto her back and motioned for Bobby to straddle
her. His half-hard cock lolled in her face, smelling
faintly of shit. Ginny looked up at Pamela with weary
alarm. Would it ever end? "Do I have to..."
"Yes, dear," instructed Pamela, quietly but
firmly.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 15 - Pt. 10 Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 15. - Part 11.
The girl meekly captured the tip in her mouth and
bobbed her head up and down. She was tired, she was
hot, she was weak, but she was beaten -- she'd do
whatever her aunt said. She took a kind of pleasure in
her degradation as her cousin's soiled cock grew and
hardened in her mouth. Bobby looked down and watched
Ginny work on his cock. She lifted her head off the bed
as she worked her mouth onto his tool, then eased back,
the strain showing in the tendons that stood out from
her neck. She tried to get a hand free so she could
guide Bobby's cock into her mouth, but his knees were
outside her arms. He felt her struggling, but didn't
move to help free her hand; it was too exciting to
watch her meekly service him. He looked at Pamela, and
she nodded her head. Bobby was glad; he had worked so
hard before to keep from shooting off in his cousin's
hot mouth, and now he'd get the chance. He felt the
pressure build as Ginny earnestly sucked him. With a
groan he gave her the first thick fountain. The girl's
eyes opened wide -- she hadn't expected him to come
again so soon -- but she dutifully swallowed it all,
and kept moving up and down until she had milked him of
the last drop.
Pamela helped Bobby up. "Take her to her room and
let her get cleaned up," she instructed. "Then come
back here. I want to use your mouth for a while."
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 15 Continued soon!
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 1.
"I want you to wear this all the time, but only on the
days when I tell you," said Pamela, holding up the slim
cream-colored object. "If you get too used to it, it
won't have the same effect."
Ginny stared at the butt plug. It wasn't very big,
only four inches long and maybe three-quarters of an
inch in diameter at the widest point. It tapered to a
blunt point on one end, and to half-inch cylinder that
flared into a flat oblong on the other. She could see
that the pressure of her sphincter on the narrow part
next to the flat end would hold the thing firmly in her
ass. "When I go out?"
"Yes," Pamela replied firmly. "You may remove it
to defecate and for sports, but I want it in place all
the rest of the time."
"All right," was the meek reply.
"I will put it in and take it out when you're
home," continued Pamela.
"As you wish."
"Now, let's get started," said Pamela, briskly
rubbing her hands together. "Stand up."
Ginny faced her aunt, her eyes wary.
"Turn around."
"Yes ma'am." Ginny faced the bed.
"Bend over. Legs straight. Grab the backs of your
calves with your hands and press your chest to your
thighs."
Ginny, proud of her flexibility, obeyed. Pamela
flicked the girl's skirt up across her back, exposing
taut young buns encased in sheer white nylon. The older
woman set down the butt plug, moved both hands to the
thin elastic waistband, and slowly rolled it downwards,
gradually revealing Ginny's tanned skin, the tops of
her white buttocks, the dark crevice, and finally her
hairy mount, a fringed clam just pouting open. Pamela
lowered the waistband to mid-thigh, but the crotch,
caught between Ginny's pressed-together legs, hung up
just below her pussy. Pamela squeezed a little gel into
her palm and worked it into the middle finger of her
right hand, then trailed the greasy digit up and down
the crack of niece's ass. Ginny gave a little start
when the older woman first scratched her sphincter with
an exploring nail, but controlled herself, breathing
more rapidly because of the tension and the effort it
took to hold herself in position. Murmuring to herself
with little expressions of minor approval or
disapproval, Pamela conducted a patient exploration of
Ginny's rectum, touching, probing, palpating until the
girl thought she'd never finish. Pamela greased up the
butt plug, and slid it back and forth over the
sensitive skin between Ginny's asshole and her cunt,
each time bringing it closer and closer to the tight
little rosette. Ginny was frantic with anticipation:
she wished her aunt would hurry up and shove the damn
thing up her ass and be done with it.
Pamela finally started to work the spongy plug up
her niece's brown bottomhole. She got it most of the
way in, then said, "Oh, that's not it," and pulled it
out. It took several more false starts before the thing
was lodged firmly up the girl's backside. Pamela
smiled, pulled Ginny's panties back into place, put her
thumb on top of the flat part of the butt plug, and
pressed hard. Ginny gave a muffled yelp, and almost
fell onto the bed. Pamela slowly worked all the
wrinkles out of the panties, lowered Ginny's skirt, and
took a minute to make sure that it was properly
arranged.
Finally, the woman stepped back. ."You may rise,"
she said tonelessly.
Ginny straightened up. Her hamstrings hurt.
"Turn around."
Ginny faced her aunt.
"Can you feel that?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Does it feel good?"
"Uh.. Do you want the truth?"
"Yes. Tell me exactly how it feels."
"I dunno. It feels weird 'cause it feels kinda
like it does when I'm about to shit. But it doesn't
hurt or anything. It makes me feel real full back
there. I..I kinda like it now, but I dunno how it'll
feel after awhile."
"That's nice. Whenever you notice it, I want you
to think of who put it there. And who's the only one
who can take it out, at least as long as you're home."
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 16 - Pt 1. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 2.
Later that evening, Ginny realized she had to move her
bowels. She started for the bathroom, but remembered
what her aunt had said. Did she really want to be
bothered for that? It didn't seem right, but she was
beginning to learn that it was best to take her aunt's
orders literally. The girl changed course, and paused
before Pamela's bedroom door, rehearsing what to say.
Please, Aunt Pamela, take out the plug? Aunt Pamela, I
need to take a shit. It was all so embarrassing. The
girl knocked softly on the door.
After a minute, Pamela pulled it ajar. "Yes?" she
said as if Ginny had interrupted something important.
"Uh, I need to, like, go to the bathroom."
"Do you need to defecate?" Pamela corrected.
"Yes'm"
"Follow me." Pamela turned on her heel and lead
her niece to her bathroom. "Assume the position," she
said curtly.
Ginny drew a blank. "Huh?"
"Bend over, girl, like you did this afternoon,"
said Pamela impatiently.
Ginny turned so her head wouldn't hit the counter
and put her it against her knees. Pamela tossed the
skirt up, pulled down the pants, and fumbled with the
plastic plug, twisting it back and forth, slowly
pulling it out and dropping it in the sink.
"Rise." instructed the older woman.
As Ginny straightened up she glanced at the plug.
The beige plastic was blotched with brown patches. The
girl blushed. She pulled up her panties and started for
the door, but Pamela held up her hand.
"Huh?" said the confused girl with more of the
scintillating repartee that she had displayed since
she'd first knock on her aunt's door.
"Over there," said Pamela, pointing at the
commode.
Ginny stumbled to the toilet. Her aunt watched her
sternly as she pushed her pants down, pulled up the
back of her skirt, and sat. Her skirt covered her
thighs, and she took a little comfort that Pamela
couldn't actually watch her shit. She strained for a
few seconds, then relaxed. The splash seemed very loud.
Ginny's blush deepened. Pamela watched
unsympathetically as the girl finished, wiped, and
stood. Then the older woman washed and greased the
plug, and made Ginny stand in the same subordinate
position while she inserted it. As usual, it took a
while to get it right. Pamela had used hot water for
the washing, and Ginny's asshole felt full and warm as
her aunt ushered her from the room. The butt plug
wobbled from side to side as she walked down the hall.
Ginny tightened her asshole so she could feel it
better. She could hardly wait to get into bed and play
with herself while she felt the delicious full feeling
in her ass.
* * *
"I'm home," called Ellen as she breezed through the
door. Something smelled good. She followed her nose to
the kitchen. Butch was peeling vegetables at the sink,
dressed in a white, frilly apron and nothing else. A
pot of spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove; Ellen was
making sure her husband had a thorough grounding in
culinary basics before she let him try out more
advanced recipes. She ran a proprietary hand over his
furry buns, then let her fingers dart between his legs
and nip at the fuzzy sack. She got no reaction, so she
switched to her fingernails, pinching the wrinkled skin
until Butch flinched. As she stepped away, Ellen looked
to see what kind of response she'd gotten. Sure enough,
the apron stood out in front as if supported by a
miniature tent pole.
"I'm going to take a bath," she said airily as she
walked away. "In about fifteen minutes, you can come in
and give me a pedicure."
Butch silently continued to peel vegetables.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 16 - Pt 2. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 3.
Acutely conscious of the intrusive, but somehow
satisfying, presence of the plug in her pert teen-aged
bottom, Ginny chatted idly with Mr. Rudolph. Class
would start soon, but she'd gotten there early to spend
a couple of minutes with the sexy English teacher. The
young girl tightened her buttocks and squeezed her
sphincter around the rubbery plastic, feeling
deliciously and secretly nasty. She leaned a little too
close and put her hand against the man's upper arm as
she joshed him about his chaperoning at the last dance.
Rudolph didn't pull away, even when the touch went on
for far too long.
The other kids started to come in, and Ginny found
her seat. All during class she fantasized about her
teacher. What if I did something wrong, so wrong that
he'd want to spank me? I'd be staying after school, the
only one, and even though I was already in detention,
I'd squirm and pout and not pay attention. He'd call me
up to his desk and give me a lecture. I'd just hit him
with some smart remark, and that would piss him off so
much he'd want to swat me. He'd say something about it
and I'd come back with, "I've been such a bad girl, I
deserve it." He'd make me bend over the desk and he'd
pull up my dress and kinda slide one hand over my ass,
just checking it out. Then he'd pull down my pants and
he'd see the butt plug. Would he know what it was?
Let's say he would. Then he'd ask me why I was wearing
it, and I'd tell him my aunt made me. He ask why, and
I'd say to keep me in line. He'd make some crack about
it not doing much good and he'd give me a few swats.
I'd cry and beg, but he'd just go on for a while, then
he'd slow down, running his hand down to wiggle the
butt plug between each stroke. Pretty soon he'd just be
wiggling the plug, and then he'd slip his hand between
my legs and I'd cover it with my love juice. He'd say
he had something else to teach me and I'd say, "Oh,
please, Mr. Rudolph, please." He'd drop his pants and
shorts and he'd fuck me right there, me bent over the
desk and him standing behind me with his pants around
his ankles. He'd slam his prick up my pussy and waggle
the plug with his thumb and I'd come, then he'd make me
kneel on the floor and suck him till he squirted in my
mouth.
The bell rang. "Thanks for the lesson," said Ginny
as she left, never noticing the change in her imagined
relationship with her teacher.
* * *
Butch lay spread-eagled on the bed, his wrists and
ankles tied to the legs. The room was dark, and he
didn't know how long he'd been there. Two or three
hours, seemed about right, but Ellen had turned the
clock so he couldn't see the face. He tried anyway,
just for something to do. The plastic sheet underneath
him crinkled as he shifted his weight, sticking
uncomfortably to his skin. He could see the faint pink
glow from the clock face shining on the wall. He tried
to swear, but he couldn't move his tongue very well
with his mouth full of his wife's dirty panties, and
his words came out as muffled grunts. Without much
hope, he tried to spit the soiled underwear out, but
the strap that bisected his mouth and went around his
neck just bit into his lips. As if all that wasn't
enough, he had to pee. He'd noticed it right after
Ellen had left the room, and it was getting worse. He
hoped that his wife wouldn't just leave him here all
night; he'd never be able to hold out that long, and
he'd be mortified if she came back and found him lying
in a pool of his own piss. She might do it, though --
there seemed to be no limit of what she'd do. Maybe
that's what the sheet was for. It had been on the bed
when she called him into the bedroom. She'd laid him
out on it, tied him up, ridden his tongue to several
orgasms, then stuffed him with the gag, turned out the
lights, and left without a word.
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 4.
The stocky man tensed his muscles at the sound of
footsteps in the hall. They approached the door -- the
sound of the heels that Ellen had been wearing lately
was unmistakable -- and paused for a minute. At last,
Butch began to hope for relief. Slowly, the steps
receded back down the hallway. Butch's need became all
the more acute since he'd allowed himself to think his
privations were almost over. Maybe I should just let
go, he thought. But she'll probably get pissed off.
Yeah, pissed off, that's the right word. What can she
do? Well, for starters, she could leave me tied up til
hell freezes over. Lessee, it's Friday night. If she
wanted to be nasty about it, she could leave me here
until Monday morning. God, I'd be pretty disgusting by
then, wouldn't I? I better keep holding out...
It was probably a hour before Ellen came back, but
it seemed like forever. Butch lay tense and hurting on
the bed as the sliver of light from the doorway grew
and spread. He blinked his eyes and peered owlishly at
his wife, silhouetted with her diaphanous wrap glowing
like a cloud at sunset. She looked like some kind of
goddess in a romantic painting, although most artists
wouldn't have allowed the light coming between her legs
to outline them so starkly.
"And how are we doing?" she asked with mock
solicitude.
"Mmph."
"Oh, yeah. You aren't going to be very talkative,
are you? I'll just ask you simple questions." She came
over and jerked the cord holding one of Butch's ankles.
"Hurt?"
"Huh-uh."
"That's good." Ellen walked to the head of the
bed, turned on the light, and reached for the rope
holding Butch's far arm. She had to lean across his
body to get to it; the gossamer fabric of her gown
slipped sensuously over his chest and face. Delicate
perfume filled his nostrils. Ellen bent lower, gripping
his wrist to keep from falling, and one heavy breast
brushed across her husband's lips. He tried to kiss it,
but he could barely move his mouth.
"Well," she said, straightening up, "You seem to
be OK."
Butch shook his head and made a negative whine.
"No? You look fine to me. Ropes tight, but no
chafing. Gag in place. Crotch against your tongue so
you get a good taste. Nice soft bed. Big hard-on. What
else could you want?" She had a pretty good idea. In
fact, she'd set things up for the purpose, but it was
fun to stretch things out.
Butch flicked his head towards his hips, his eyes
locked pleadingly on his wife's, as if somehow he could
communicate his need that way. Ellen walked to the foot
of the bed and sat down between her husband's legs.
"Something wrong?"
He nodded emphatically.
"Is it here?" she asked, running her hand lightly
over his lower belly.
"Uh-huh."
She took his pole lightly in her hand. "Here?"
Butch looked confused, paused, and finally shook
his head weakly.
"It must be here, then," she said, fondling his
balls.
"Huh-uh." The reply was delivered with a
despairing inflection.
Ellen's brow wrinkled as she faked bewilderment.
"Oh, I've got an idea!" she announced, moving up on the
bed and rising to her knees.
Butch groaned. He was sure now that his wife was
playing with him, and he figured that her lack of any
genuine sympathy meant that he wasn't going to get any
relief any time soon.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 16 - Pt 4. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 5.
Brushing her husband's cock out of the way as if
it were just a minor inconvenience, Ellen placed one
hand flat on her husband's lower belly. "This hurt?,"
she said clinically as she pressed down.
Butch groaned in pain.
"Are you sure?" said his wife, leaning harder on
his tender abdomen.
Another moan, this one louder.
"Oh, really?" she said, moving her hand in little
circles.
Butch whimpered as the weight moved back and forth
over his distended bladder.
"You know, I think I've got it," she exclaimed
with the air of a bright school girl in a science
class.
Butch's whines died down a little while his wife's
palm kept up its insistent pressure.
"Your bladder's full, isn't it?" Ellen put her
fingertips together and pressed them into her husband's
tender belly. His groan affirmed her diagnosis. "Would
you like to take a piss, honey?" she asked
solicitously.
Frenetic nods from the other end of the bed.
"That'd feel real good, huh?"
The answering motions were somewhat slower as
Butch realized that she was jerking his chain again.
"Well, I think you're gonna have to hold it for a
while longer."
A little whimper.
"Tell you what, though -- I'll take your mind off
of it." Ellen rose to her feet, shrugged her way out of
her gown, and tossed the gauzy garment in the air.
Butch saw it float over his face, filling his
field of view with white. It settled down onto his
cheeks and chest; he could see nothing but a soft glow.
The perfume clinging to the robe filled his nostrils.
He felt the bed shift; Ellen must be back between his
kegs. Her hair brushed over his hips and belly. He felt
her hands press once more on his full bladder, causing
new waves of raw sensation to wash over him.
Suddenly, her mouth was upon him, feeling
incredibly hot on his sensitive cock. She kneaded his
belly as she sucked him, and the combination of the
painful twinges from his bladder and his reaction to
Ellen's exquisite, practiced mouth reinforced each
other in some strange way. He writhed against the
restraints as his wife bobbed her head up and down,
insistently driving him towards his release. All his
senses were under his wife's control. He saw nothing
but formless white light, tasted nothing but the
slightly-salty crotch of her soiled underwear, smelled
nothing but her musk and her perfume, her nothing but
the rustle of his body on the plastic sheet, the creak
of the ropes as her pulled against them, his own ragged
breathing, and his cries and whimpers. And he felt
nothing but Ellen's rapacious mouth and her cruel
manipulations of his sore belly.
When he came, it seemed as though she tore the
orgasm from the deepest recesses of his body. Her
fingers pressed harder and harder, squeezing and
pressing, digging and massaging; her mouth sucked and
her teeth nipped until he couldn't tell the pleasure
from the pain; it all blended together into one intense
all-enveloping feeling. He screamed into his gag as his
wife sucked the ropy spurts from his cock.
She gave him no rest. He felt her slither up his
body, her heavy breasts on his belly, her legs
straddling his pelvis, and, finally, her weight
settling painfully onto his belly as she sat down hard,
squeezing his slithery cock between her buttocks. She
drew the gown aside, and leaned over her helpless
husband, her hands pressing into his shoulders. Butch
stared at his wife's face: her triumphant smile, a
little come dripping from the corner of her mouth, her
hair in tousled disarray, her eyes on fire. She
wriggled her hips and biting spasms radiated from his
groin. Reveling in his agony, Ellen bounced up and down
as Butch moaned.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 16 - Pt 5. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 6.
"How's that feel, baby?" she taunted him.
Butch shook his head from side to side, his eyes
wide. Would she ride him 'til he burst? He feared her
when she was like this, but he couldn't wait for
whatever depravity came next.
But waiting was just what Ellen had in mind. She
rolled away, retrieved her gown, slipped it on with a
sexy little wiggle, and flicked off the lights as she
disappeared out the door. Over a cup of coffee in the
kitchen, she planned her next moves. Would Butch be
able to hold out, or would she find him humiliatingly
defiled when she returned? If she did, what punishment
would she exact? And what if he managed to control
himself? Should he get a reward? Or just more
discipline? She figured she had about a hour to work it
all out, and she had a bunch of magazines full of
interesting ideas. Decisions, decisions; this mistress
stuff was hard work.
The end of the hour found Butch winning the battle
with his body. He'd told himself he'd be damned if he'd
piss all over himself, even though he had a delicious
little frisson every time he wondered what his wife
would do to him if he soiled himself. He told himself
it would be a long time and concentrated. The immediate
urge to urinate went away even as the dull ache in his
belly grew. His cock fell flaccid to his belly, filling
and twitching occasionally as the flavor of the well-
used panties in his mouth reminded him of his captor.
He was in a tumescent phase when he heard the door open
and blinked at the sudden light.
Ellen sniffed as she crossed the threshold.
Nothing. Time for Plan A. She approached the bed
carrying something. "See these?" she said playfully,
holding up some white nylon.
"Mmph?" answered her confused husband.
"Know what they are?"
A shake of the head.
"You ought to; I found them in an ad in the back
of one of your dirty magazines."
Butch stared with interest but no recognition.
"Maybe if I put them on..." she mused, tossing her
gown on a chair and stepping into what turned out to be
a garment. "Like it?" she trilled, tying the waist with
a drawstring, then turning around and stopping with her
legs apart and her hand on her hips. The white nylon
fit loosely around her hips like old-fashioned panties,
but a clump of material dangled obscenely between her
legs like a giant limp penis. "Now you know, right?"
Another shake of the head.
"Aw, come on. I thought you read those things from
cover to cover."
Just a blank look.
"Well they came with instructions. This part down
here..." She reached down and shook the long flag.
"...goes over your head. And there's an opening between
that part and my crotch. So I cover you up so you can't
see, or smell, or taste anything but me, then I feed
you whatever part of me I want. For as long as I want.
And that's your whole world." Ellen smiled slyly. "It's
supposed to last a long time." She reached down and
drew the gag from Butch's mouth, holding the soggy
panties daintily with her thumb and forefinger. Tossing
them aside, she put one knee on the bed and pivoted on
it as she swung into a crouch, facing her husband's
feet with her hips poised above his face. Ellen reached
between her legs and lifted the sack off Butch's face.
Finding the opening in the end, she walked backwards on
her knees and, using both hands, worked the sack over
the man's head. She had to scoot forward again as she
encased him, then the material at her crotch was
twisted around, preventing her from applying her crotch
where it would do the most good. She pulled and tugged
the cloth into position, and tightened the drawstring
around Butch's neck. Neatness counts, huh? How about a
nice, even bow. Too tight? No, just enough to remind
him of his place. "Pucker up, Buster," she grunted, and
wriggled until she could feel Butch's lips inside hers.
She moved from side to side, slipping easily on the
generous coating of pussy juice, then she settled into
position. It felt nice to swallow him up with her
slippery cunt.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 16 - Pt 6. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 7.
At first, Ellen's hairy brown asshole squashed her
husband's nose. He turned his head fractionally from
side to side, hoping to make it easier to breathe, but
the result was that his nose slipped inside the greasy
serrated opening. Ellen reacted by squirming a little
herself; finding her husband's proboscis fully
inserted, she squeezed it with her sphincter, enjoying
this new way to tweak his nose. All this time, Butch
wasn't getting any air. He gave out a muffled moan,
which Ellen ignored in favor of concentrating on the
feeling of her husband's nostrils deliciously embedded
in her fundament. After two or three more bleats, each
escalating in pitch and intensity, Ellen rolled forward
enough for Butch to breathe air ripened by its
proximity to her asshole. The bound man gasped and
snorted; after a while his respiration returned to
normal.
Since Ellen didn't appear to be going anywhere,
Butch took stock. Lessee, I can't see anything but this
damn white stuff. I can barely breathe. I'm trussed up
like a turkey. And I've got to piss so bad my whole
belly hurts. Then why am I stiff as a poker? Damn, that
woman's got a nice asshole. I could sniff it for hours.
Probably will, too... As the minutes dragged on,
Butch's breath warmed the small volume of air. Ellen
started to sweat, and her perspiration dripped down the
crack of her ass and gathered in the folds of her dark-
brown rosette. Her pussy started to flow, too, most of
the juices trickling into Butch's mouth, but some
oozing out onto his cheeks, making them slick. She
resisted the urge to let him at her clit; she'd have to
cock her ass away from his nose, and besides she wanted
him completely passive. Droplets dripped from Ellen's
sweaty asshole on to her husband's nose. He started to
sweat as well.
Ellen watched the beads form on Butch's chest.
Soon his belly gleamed. She felt his exhalations
against her asshole and waited. After a while the
perspiration began to form little paths. Ellen scooped
up some with her hand, reached down and wrapped her
sweaty fingers around his dick. She jerked him off
smoothly and dispassionately. Her clinical, practiced
manipulations soon produced results. Much sooner than
he would have liked, Butch spurted, and directed his
ejaculations onto his upper belly with a cruel twist of
her wrist. Then she cocked her hips and slipped her
asshole firmly over her husband's mouth. "Tongue," she
commanded coldly. When she felt it working inside her,
she sat back firmly, feeling Butch's cheeks inside
hers. She tightened her ass, squeezing his face, then
relaxed again, trying to fit her asshole over his mouth
as far as she could. She found a good position and held
it for half an hour as her husband slowly and
thoroughly licked the inside of her brown ring, pausing
occasionally as his tongue cramped, but resuming when
she pinched his balls.
Ellen scooped up a handful of the thick white
cream from Butch's earlier ejaculation, and spread it
on his cock. Once more she brought him off, squeezing
him uncomfortably hard, moving her hand relentlessly,
and bearing down so hard with her ass that Butch could
barely breathe. Before his sighs diminished, she had
rotated her hips again so she could feed him her now-
sopping clit. Butch obediantly tongued it as the pussy
juice dripped down onto his face. Ellen made herself
hold still as she took her first orgasm. "Keep going,"
she ordered coldly when Butch tried to stop. Riding her
husband's weakening tongue, she rose to a plateau
punctuated by little, quivering spasms. She let one
grow, relaxed a moment, then ground her cunt cruelly
into Butch's mouth as she rose to a thundering
crescendo.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 16 - Pt 7. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 16 - Part 8.
Nothing but Ellen's ragged breathing could be
heard as she slumped over her husband, her juices
flowing copiously onto his sodden face. She leaned
forward and jerked him off one more time. It took much
longer; Ellen had to return to Butch's belly several
times for another load of sweat and spunk so she could
grease him up. Eventually, she was rewarded with a thin
stream of watery come. She continued to pull on Butch's
cock until it softened considerably, ignoring his
indrawn hisses of complaint as her agile fingers
tortured his sensitive prick.
Finally, she untied the draw string around her
waist and stepped out of the panties, leaving them in a
heap on her husband's face as she left the room,
leaving Butch to contemplate his fate for a few more
minutes.
When she returned, she was carrying a flat baking
dish, which she positioned between the bound man's
outspread legs. She loosened the tie, pulled the
panties off his face, and inspected the fine mixture of
his sweat, her sweat, and her cunt juice. "How's your
bladder?" she asked.
"God, it hurts."
"Well, since you weren't too bad an ass-licker, I
might let you have some relief. Would you like that?"
"Oh, yes. Yes, please."
"You'll have to wait until I say it's OK," she
cautioned.
"Anything."
"Alright," she said, flopping his limp prick into
the dish, "Get ready."
"You're not gonna let me up?"
Ellen fingered her husband's limp cock. "No, Babe,
I like you all tied up like this. I might not let you
up for days. But I will let you pee. If you're good.
First, you gotta ask nice."
He didn't think twice about groveling. "Please,
Honey. Please let me piss."
Her fingers kept up their cool manipulations.
"Please, who?"
A wave of embarrassment washed over Butch as he
realized that his wife was going to hold his dick while
he pissed in the dish. Somehow it made him seem so
helpless. He had to get some relief, though. "Please,
Mistress. I need to go so bad."
"OK, you can let go..."
Butch let his muscles relax. A warm swimming
sensation filled his loins.
"...But you have to say 'Mistress Ellen.'"
Butch tried to regain control, but it was too
late. His cock bucked weakly in his wife's hand and a
thick spurt of yellow urine dampened her fingers.
"You slimeball!" she raged, her fingers working
insultingly on his limp dick. "You're gonna pay for
this."
Butch lay shame-faced on the bed as he emptied his
bladder against the palm of his wife's hand. She
berated him continually while she squished his dick
with her long fingers.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 16
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 17. - Part 1.
Bobby opened the door. "I'm home," he called as he
stepped into the living room. The lights were out and
the shades drawn. No one answered his greeting, but the
boy sensed a presence. He waited until his eyes
adjusted to the gloom. Pamela was seated on the couch,
her legs outstretched and her heels resting on Ginny's
back. Both were naked. As Bobby walked towards them, he
could see that the girl was tied to the coffee table.
She crouched on her hands and knees, not stretched
across the table as he had seen her before, but with
her wrists and elbows bound to the legs nearest her.
She had turned her head towards Pamela, and she rested
her cheek on the smooth wood of the table, her dark
hair spreading out on the side towards Bobby. Her
breasts hung down, swaying slightly as Pamela shifted
her bare feet from Ginny's shoulder blades to the small
of her back. Bobby stared curiously at the bowl of ice
cubes that perched on a towel in his aunt's lap. Pamela
reached into the bowl, slipped a cube into her mouth,
and sucked on it noisily while eyeing her nephew with a
smoldering expression. The sounds seemed to be an
obscene invitation to something, but Bobby couldn't
figure out to what.
There was no preamble. "Take off your clothes,"
ordered Pamela. "Don't bother getting your panties."
Bobby grinned at his aunt as he unbuttoned his
shirt. He wanted to make some wisecrack, but was afraid
to push it. He held the garment in his hand as he
momentarily pondered what to do with it, then finally
tossed it carelessly onto his cousin's back. Pamela
smiled conspiratorially at her nephew; he'd read the
situation right: she wanted him to be an active
participant in the girl's degradation. Bobby sat on the
floor and took off his shoes and socks. He reached over
and cupped his cousin's nearest breast in his hand. He
wished he could look into her face. As if she'd read
his mind, Pamela barked, "Head to the other side,"
punctuating the commend by slapping Ginny's buttock
with her instep.
Bobby stared into the girl's angry, rebellious
eyes as he manipulated her soft flesh. "She do
something wrong?" he asked, pinching her rock-hard
nipple.
"Of course," answered Pamela in a bored tone.
Bobby twisted the nub back and forth, pressing a
little harder each time, hoping to see some reaction in
his cousin's eyes. She gave him nothing, just the same
hard stare. The boy gave a short sharp nip with his
fingers, and was rewarded with a gasp and a sudden
widening of Ginny's eyes. Satisfied, he stood up and
began to take off his pants, all the time looking down
at her eyes. He stepped out of the legs and dropped his
jeans on her back, then slowly slipped off his briefs.
He watched his cousin's eyes drop to his stiff prick,
and saw her start to lick her lips as he dropped the
underwear on her face. The waistband fell across her
ear, and the white cotton enveloped her face. Bobby
reached down and arranged the material so the fly
covered the girl's nostrils.
Pamela watched the show raptly, an amused
expression playing about her lips. "Want an ice cube?"
she asked.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 17 - Pt 1. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 17. - Part 2.
"Yes'm." said Bobby politely. He didn't care much
one way or the other, but it seemed to be what she
wanted. He stepped over Ginny and knelt at the end of
the couch as his aunt inserted a slippery cube into his
mouth, letting her fingers remain. The cubes weren't
very big, not like the ones at his house: Pamela had an
ice-maker. Bobby sucked on Pamela's cold fingertips as
he let the ice melt in his mouth. As he bobbed back on
forth on her middle finger, the woman's jaw slackened
and her left hand stole between her legs. Bobby looked
down and saw his aunt's fingers emerge from under the
towel and disappear into her dark, hairy nest, the
knuckles moving in slow circles. It took several
minutes for the ice cube to disappear.
"Now, Bobby," said the woman as she withdrew her
hand from the boy's mouth, "Go sit on the table."
Bobby got up and walked uncertainly over.
"Straddle it," said Pamela, "And sit down facing
your cousin."
Bobby did as directed.
"Take away the underwear."
The boy plucked his briefs from Ginny's head and
laid them over her shoulders.
"Now Virginia," ordered the woman, "Look straight
ahead."
Ginny raised her head and turned it so her chin
rested on the table. The movement brought her forehead
to within inches of Bobby's stiff cock.
"That's nice," murmured Pamela, rubbing Ginny's
buttock with her instep, "Now suck his penis."
Ginny tried, but although she craned her neck, she
couldn't reach high enough.
"You'll have to help her, Bobby," Pamela said
quietly.
Bobby put his thumb on the base of his dick and
pushed down. He slipped easily between the girl's plump
red lips, then inched forward until he could feel the
pressure from the back of her throat. Ginny sucked him
eagerly, rocking her head back and forth as well as she
could. Her mouth was hot on Bobby's rod, and he soon
was thrusting his hips back and forth, ramming his cock
deep into his cousin's gullet, amazed by her ability to
absorb most of his thick tool, enjoying the grunts and
groans that greeted each stroke. I could come like
this, he thought. I could shoot my load right down her
throat. I could grab her hair and hold her in place.
Pump a little deeper every time. Listen to her strain.
Watch the sweat break out on her forehead. Look at her
eyes as I shoot off the first wad. Feel her throat work
as it goes down...
"Bobby..." His aunt's tone held a note of warning.
"Yes'm?" The boy snapped back to reality.
"That's enough."
The boy stifled his urge for release and slipped
his dick out of his cousin's mouth.
Pamela scooped a cube from the bowl in her lap,
reached over and slipped it into Ginny's mouth. "Give
her another taste of your penis, Bobby," she
instructed. "Only this time just feed her a few inches.
Ginny, roll that ice around while you work on him."
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End of Ch. 17 - Pt 2. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 17. - Part 3.
The girl looked expectantly at her cousin, her
mouth a moue as she made sure she didn't drip on the
table. Bobby pressed the head of his cock to Ginny's
puckered lips and gently forced them apart as he
slipped his meat home. He entered a dark cave even
wetter and more slippery than before, but the previous
sensation of heat was replaced by a complex mix of
temperatures that varied as the girl worked her mouth
around him. The ice kept moving, and he was surprised
that it didn't always feel cold; sometimes it felt so
hot that part of him was afraid he'd be burned. He bit
his lower lip at the intense sensations, and before
long he was chewing on it to keep from coming as Ginny,
realizing the effect she was having, and hoping she
could make they boy shoot off before Pamela had granted
him permission, tongued him even faster, moving the ice
in complex patterns against his rod. Bobby looked
entreatingly at his aunt, but she pretended not to
notice. The ice melted, and the boy breathed a little
easier.
"Another cube?" asked Pamela wickedly.
"Please, ma'am," answered Bobby before he's really
thought it through.
Brushing back a tendril of dark hair that had
escaped her bun, the woman pulled Bobby's dick aside,
and plopped two smaller pieces of ice into Ginny's
mouth. She slid her cool fingers back and forth several
times over the length of the boy's cock, then guided it
home. As his cousin began her artful stimulation,
Pamela stroked Bobby's balls. The boy knew right away
that he was in trouble. He started counting backwards
from a thousand, then he thought about the fat woman
teacher with the wispy mustache -- anything to take his
mind off the incredible feelings that poured from his
groin. It worked, but just barely; when Pamela finally
extracted his cock and squeezed it, clear fluid oozed
from the head.
"Very good, Bobby," she said as if he'd
successfully completed a challenging problem set.
"Thank you, ma'am," he answered, hoping that he
wouldn't be sent upstairs with blue balls. The room was
quiet. Bobby looked at his aunt, who had released his
sack and was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed
and an opaque expression on her face. He glanced down
at his cousin, who had laid her cheek down on the table
and was chafing slightly against her restraints. A dab
of pre-come dripped from the reddened tip of the boy's
cock onto Ginny's hair near her temple; Bobby reached
down and rubbed it in.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch. 17 - Pt 3. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 17. - Part 4.
After a minute or two, Pamela stretched out her
arm and, using just the tips of her fingers, plucked
Bobby's clothes one by one from the girl's back and
dropped them on the floor at the end of the couch.
Bobby watched her carefully, noting the stylized care
of her motions and the expression of mild disgust that
played about her lips. When she had dropped the boy's
briefs on the top of the little pile, she leaned
forward and laid her right hand carefully on Ginny's
nearest buttock. "Did you like that, Virginia?" she
asked as she slowly slipped her hand into the warm
crevice and down to the girl's pouting, dripping cunt-
lips.
"Yes'm."
"Feels like it," muttered Pamela as she found
Ginny's hard, slick clit with her middle finger and
started to massage it. "How about at the beginning,
before the ice, when Bobby rammed his penis into your
mouth?" Her voice was distant and analytical.
"It was uh, OK... Ma'am." Ginny hurriedly tacked
the honorific on the end.
"Virginia..." Pamela admonished, her inflection
rising at the end. Her finger kept up its regular
stimulation.
Shit! She always knows when I'm holding back, and
she never lets me rest until she drags it all out. "It
scared me, Aunt Pamela. I was afraid he'd gag me with
that big dick of his. But it turned me on, too."
Ginny's breathing was rapid and irregular.
"His penis, dear," corrected the woman.
"Yes'm."
"Say it."
Ginny, close to coming, struggled to get the words
out. "I was scared he'd shove the head of his
penis...ohh...his big penis...clear down my
throat...ahh...and make me... oh yes... gag."
"But it excited you."
"Ohh...yes ma'am. Yes...I loved the
way...ahh...his big thick, uh, penis filled up my
mouth. Oww...I couldn't move or anything, he
just...ohh...kept pumping in and out. Oh, yes!
Aoww...aoww." The girl stiffened, spasmed, and melted.
Ignoring her niece's paroxysms, Pamela withdrew
her hand, inspected her glistening finger, and licked
away Ginny's juices. "Bobby," she said evenly, "Come
down here." The boy crouched, swung his leg over his
cousin's head, walked to the end of the table and stood
looking down. "Kneel there," ordered Pamela, pointing,
"Between her legs."
Bobby pushed Ginny's calves apart with his knees
to make room, and put one hand on her rump to steady
himself. His nostrils pricked at the sweaty, musky
fragrance wafting up from between her legs. He looked
up at his aunt for guidance. She produced a tube of gel
from the folds of the towel, handed it to the boy, and
pointed at his cock.
Bobby, ecstatic now that the prospects for his
getting off seemed suddenly brighter, popped the top
and greased up his dick. Pamela soaked her right hand
in the icy water at the bottom of the bowl, while Bobby
waited with increasing nervousness. Was this some
trick? His cock ached with the need to plunge into his
cousin's tight young ass. He examined the crinkled
brown ring with longing.
"Kiss her," directed Pamela.
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End of Ch. 17 - Pt 4. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 17. - Part 5.
Bobby bent forward, spreading his cousin's cheeks
with both hands. There was no doubt in his mind just
where his aunt intended the kiss to land. Extending his
tongue he pressed it gently to the very center of
Ginny's dark rosebud, feeling the tight serrations,
tasting the slight saltiness, and smelling the secret,
dusky pungency. A few short laps with the tip of his
tongue preceded Bobby's fastening of his lips all
around the hole. He sucked at his cousin's greasy
asshole, feeling her relax and open up to him. His
tongue worked its way inside.
Suddenly, he felt his face being pushed to one
side. He pulled away to see Pamela plunging the middle
finger of her right hand deep into her niece's
fundament. "Yoww!" complained the girl.
"Something wrong?" asked her aunt calmly.
"It's cold!"
"So it is," agreed the woman, "So it is." She
reached into the bowl, extracted a cube, and pressed it
to Ginny's quivering ring.
"Oww."
Pamela ignored the protest, and calmly plunged the
ice up her niece's nether hole. Ginny jerked at the
assault and gave a little strangled cry. Her aunt paid
no attention, but simply inserted another cube, this
time with no delaying at the entrance. Two more
followed as Ginny twitched against the ropes that held
her fast. The coffee table moved a few inches, but her
exertions gained her nothing more. With a wave of her
hand, Pamela beckoned Bobby forward. He put his left
hand on his cousin's slim hip to steady himself, and
poised his cock at the now-glistening entrance to her
secret passage. He glance up at his aunt to make sure
that this was what she had in mind, and received a slow
nod. Working the slithery tip inside the tight opening,
he put his other hand on the girl's right hip and
forcefully slipped his tool all the way up her ass.
"Oof," exclaimed the girl. She felt impaled,
skewered. It wouldn't have been so intense if Bobby had
given me a little time to get used to his big dick in
my tight little hole, given me a chance to relax, to
open myself up, before he slid in kind of slow and
easy, but no, he had to ram that fat thing up my butt
like a freight train. God, he's trying to get in even
deeper, grinding his belly into me, pulling on my
hips... At least the ice doesn't feel so cold now that
it's inside. Now he's starting to fuck me. Jeez, his
cock feels icy in my asshole -- funny how it doesn't
feel cold all the way inside. Now he's starting to
groove, pumping out a rhythm, fucking my baby butthole
with that big cold poker. Feels weird, but it feels
pretty fucking good. Come on, cuz, fuck me. Fuck my
asshole like there's no tomorrow. That's it. Now you're
getting it. Shit, that's good. Wish he'd finger my
clit, so maybe I'd get off. Not much change of that,
though. Come on, boy, shoot your jizz up my butt...
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End of Ch. 17 - Pt 5. Continued next message...
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 17. - Part 6.
Ginny was getting off on the scene, but her cousin
thought he'd gone to heaven. The delicious hot/cold,
baked Alaska feeling of the girl's inner folds combined
with the incredibly tight grip of her sphincter drove
Bobby wild. Even when the ice cubes moved around a bit
and the warmth went away, it was a pretty fantastic
feeling, and when he looked over pleadingly at his
aunt, she nodded her head, and he knew he didn't have
to hold back any more. He snorted through clenched
nostrils as he slid his hands down and tugged
desperately on the tops of Ginny's thighs, plunging in
and out as fast as he could, and quickly, surprisingly
quickly now that he had let himself go, he shot great
gobs of white cream up his cousin's clinging hole,
where it mingled with the now-melted ice. With a groan,
he pulled his cock out, streaked with white come and
brown shit. Pamela wiped his half-hard dick with the
towel.
"Now clean her up," she ordered. Bobby reached for
the towel, but Pamela stopped him and pointed at her
mouth. Where does she get these things? Bobby wondered
as he lowered his lips to the brown and white goo that
dripped from his cousin's bottomhole. He throttled his
revulsion and made sure he worked slowly and thoroughly
as he licked it up; he knew his aunt was just waiting
for him to get rush through it. After a minute, he
pulled himself upright, licking his lips and struggling
against an urge to spit.
Pamela took great satisfaction in the subtle
twitching of her nephew's lips as he waited for the
next command. "Now Bobby," she said, "You've enjoyed
your time with your cousin this afternoon, haven't
you?"
"Yes'm."
"Since she's been so accommodating, I think it
would be appropriate if you did something nice for
her."
"Ma'am?"
"Make her feel good, Bobby. Make her feel real
good. Make her feel so good she can't hold still, so
good she squeals. Make her twitch and jump and wriggle.
Make her hot. Make her sweat and pant and drool. Touch
her where she itches. Stroke her slimy little nub.
Tease her a little. You know how to do it. You know
just the way."
Bobby put his left hand at the small of Ginny's
back and reached between her legs with the right,
dipping his fingers into the young girl's warm wet
cavern in a wholly unnecessary attempt to lubricate
them, then he slipped his middle and ring fingers
forward until he felt her button. He worked the tips of
his fingers in tight little circles.
He wasn't near as skillful as Pamela, but Ginny
wasn't complaining. He'd gotten her real hot with the
butt-fucking, and she ached for completion. If the boy
pressed a little too hard sometimes, or strayed off the
target, that was OK, she was gonna get off, and that
was what counted. She felt the familiar, dizzying
sensations of her impending orgasm. A sharp, cold
feeling in the middle of her back ripped her away from
that warm, fuzzy place. Pamela had plunked a bunch of
ice cubes right in the center, and was pressing them in
place with both hands. After a few seconds, she
regrouped and began to work once more towards her
climax. Her aunt scooped the cubes back in the bowl,
though Ginny's back still dripped cold water. She was
starting to get close again when she was startled to
feel Pamela cup hands full of ice to each breast. Damn
it, she thought, Nothing's gonna keep me from coming.
Not that clumsy kid. Not the fucking ice. This one's
mine. Go ahead, Auntie. Rub my titties with that cold
shit. Makes my nipples real hard, doesn't it? You're
gonna help get me off, ya know. Oops, where's you go?
Guess you figured it out. That's OK, I still got Bobby.
Higher. Higher. Here I go... Oh shit, not the back of
my neck! Too late, Auntie, too fucking late. Oh Christ,
that feels good!"
Ginny's groans announced her orgasm. Now everybody
had come but Pamela. And Pamela knew how to fix that.
---------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 17. Continued soon, folks!!
---------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 18. - Part 1.
Bobby had been working in the yard, and came into
the house for a drink of water. As he walked through the
kitchen, he heard a moan from the direction of the
living room. It sounded like somebody in pain. Bobby
crept down the hall, paused at the doorway, and exhaled
slowly. Nobody was hurt. The only agony was intense
frustration.
Ginny lay naked across the ottoman, bound on her
hands and knees. Pamela sat in a straight chair behind
her, the woman's hands busy at the hairy juncture of
the teenager's thighs. The coating of slime on the
backs of the girls thighs extended almost to the floor,
and it looked like it was even thicker between her
legs.
"Oh, please, Aunt Pamela," whimpered Ginny. "You
let me come once, but that must have been an hour ago.
Please, please, I need it so bad."
"You can plead all you want, Virginia," Pamela
answered in icy tones. "I like it when you beg. But
you'll come when I want you to. No sooner, no later."
Her voice took on a mocking quality. "You're a hot
little bitch, aren't you? Sopping wet from your crotch
to your knees." She wiggled her middle finger into the
girl's crinkled brown asshole. "Slippery here, too.
Want another finger?"
"Oh, yes, Aunt Pamela."
"How about two?" said the woman as she shoved her
first three fingers up her niece's clinging rectum.
"Ungh," responded the girl as her aunt pushed hard
enough to move the ottoman.
"Oh, Bobby," said Pamela over her shoulder. The
boy jumped. He had no idea that she knew he was there.
"Get undressed and come over here." Bobby lost no time,
and soon stood at his aunt's side, his erection at her
eye level. She turned to the coffee table and picked up
a leash. Bobby eyed it in surprise. It was black and
thin and round, with a silver choke collar attached.
Pamela untangled the collar and looped it over Bobby's
dick. The metal felt cold on his sensitive flesh.
Pamela pushed the collar to the base of her nephew's
cock, pushed her chair back a couple of feet, then
pulled down on the leash. Bobby just stood there. His
prick pointed lower as Pamela slowly increased the
force. When it drooped below horizontal, she reached
out and pushed the head upwards so the chain wouldn't
slip off. Under his aunt's unrelenting pressure, Bobby
sagged to his knees. Pamela pushed him into position
behind his cousin, dropped the leash on the floor, then
reached between the boy's legs and picked it up,
pulling upwards until the collar was wedged tightly
between Bobby's compact little buns.
"Now Bobby," Pamela breathed in her nephew's ear.
"I want you to put your penis in her vagina." The boy
gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, this won't be as easy as
you think," his aunt continued. "Two inches." Bobby
turned to her in puzzlement. "That's all you're
allowed. At the most. You can moved back and forth as
much as you like, but you can never go deeper than two
inches."
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End of Ch.18 - Pt 1. Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 18. - Part 2.
"And Virginia," the woman continued, bending over
her nephew and putting her hand on the teenager's soft
olive buttock. "You tell him what you want him to do.
Whatever you'd like. He'll do what I say, but I want
him to hear all the things he can't do."
"Begin, Bobby," ordered Pamela in the voice of a
school teacher, tightening the chain for emphasis. The
boy put his thumb on top of his dick and aimed it for
the glistening entrance to his cousin's cunt. He
brushed the sopping wet hair up and down with the head,
then slowly eased it into the girl's slippery channel.
Her sharp intake of breath almost made him forget
himself and plunge his tool all the way up her
delicious warm pussy, but the collar's cool pressure
against his asshole reminded him of his limits. He
watched his purple helmet disappear, and then another
half-inch of meat. Then he drew back his hips, and the
ridge at the rim of the head emerged covered in fuck-
juice. He moved faster, jogging his dick in and out as
fast as he could, but she was so wet that there was
very little friction, and his short strokes didn't give
him a chance to build up much speed. The boy could tell
that it was going to be hard to come this way, even if
his aunt would let him.
Then his cousin started to talk to him, and he
changed his mind. "Come on, Bobby," whined the girl.
"Fuck me with your big thing. Ram it all the way up my
tight little pussy. I want to feel your balls slapping
against my legs. I want to hear your belly smacking
into my ass. Fuck me so hard you knock the wind out of
me. Fuck me so fast your dick gets hot. Give it to me.
Give me every fucking inch."
Bobby tried to get away with an extra half-inch,
but Pamela was watching and tugged up on the leash when
Bobby pulled back out. The boy felt the chain press
against his crotch and slip between his buttocks as his
dick slipped out of his cousin's warm wetness. Pamela
eased up immediately so she wouldn't pull the collar
completely off.
Bobby looked at his aunt with beaten, pleading
eyes. "Put it back, Bobby," she commanded in a voice
devoid of sympathy. "Same rules." The boy obeyed, his
jaw slack. He put his hands on Ginny's hips and moved
fractionally back and forth while his aunt varied the
pressure on the leash. Sometimes when she pulled
harder, Ginny could feel her cousin's dick sliding over
her clit as he pulled back so far his cock almost
slipped out. She bit her lip to keep from letting
Pamela know what was happening; she was sure her aunt
would stop if she knew how good this felt. She might
even be able to come this way. A whole series of short
sharp strokes just hit the spot. She felt her stomach
muscles tightening, and then...Pamela eased the
pressure off completely. Bobby's cock pulled upwards,
and Ginny slumped in frustration.
Pamela leaned over Bobby, who, worried only about
his own satisfaction, had been oblivious to the little
game that she and Ginny had been playing, and whispered
in his ear. "Feel good, Bobby?" she asked.
"Yeah, Aunt Pamela," he answered, "But..."
"But what, Bobby?"
"Aw, Aunt Pamela," he whined, "I really wanna
come!"
"Well Bobby," purred Pamela, "I'm feeling generous
today..."
"Yeah?"
"Take your penis out of her vagina." Bobby pulled
back and let his glistening dick bob up and down.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Ch.18 - Pt 2. Continued next message...
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 18. - Part 3.
Pamela took a tube from the coffee table and
squeezed some clear gel onto the head of her nephew's cock.
She rubbed it in, squeezing deliciously on the soft helmet.
"Now put it in her rectum." As Bobby, eager to comply,
guided his tool into position, his aunt gave him a
warning: "You can put the head just inside her
sphincter. No farther. When you feel the ridge slip
through, when it starts to go in all by itself, pull it
out and slip it in again. Understand?"
"Yes'm," replied Bobby glumly. He didn't know if
this would be any better. He pulled gently on his
cousin's hips and felt her delightful tightness ringing
the tip of his tool. He slipped in cautiously.
Suddenly, he was through the resistance. He pulled
backwards, looking down to see his angry purple glans
emerging from Ginny's brown ring. Her asshole pulled
out in a little tent as Bobby pulled backwards, then he
slipped all the way out. He put one hand on his dick to
steady it and started to ass-fuck his cousin in the
strange way that Pamela had ordered. It wasn't too bad,
actually. Ginny was nice and tight, there wasn't too
little friction, and the teenager's grunts and moans
turned the boy on. He couldn't figure out why she was
carrying on so much, but then he realized that Ginny's
asshole was getting more of a workout than if he had
just shoved his dick straight in. He felt intermittent
pressure between his cheeks from the chain, but it
seemed like his aunt was just making sure he knew who
was in charge, and she was going to let him get off.
Bobby snorted through his nose as he felt a tightness
forming in his groin. He moved as fast as he could,
slipping the head of his dick in and out of Ginny's
clinging rosebud. She was wailing now, crying out
wordlessly for relief. He didn't know about her, but he
was going to get his. "Ungh, ungh," he grunted.
"Go ahead, Bobby," encouraged his aunt, "Come for
me."
The first jet started as he pushed inwards, and he
thrust his hips to make sure he'd squirt it right up
his cousin's butt. The second came right after he
pulled back, and covered Ginny's gaping brown ring in
sticky white slime. The boy drove his dick back through
the goo, and shot another load inside. He held his dick
there, twitching and weakly spurting, until it started
to soften.
"Good boy, Bobby," said Pamela as he slipped out.
Now let her clean you up. Ginny waited for the boy to
come around. She raised her head as he knelt in front
of her and took his semi-soft dick in her mouth. It
wasn't bad, really. He hadn't been all the way inside
her, so there wasn't any shit to deal with. Still,
there was a vague foul odor; she sucked her cousin's
cock until it went away.
Bobby arose, and his spot was taken by Pamela. She
moved her chair in close, then sat down. She spread her
legs on both sides of the ottoman. Ginny's nose pressed
against her aunt's skirt as she waited for the next
act. The material was moving. Slowly the skirt slid
higher, forcing the teenager's head back as Pamela
stretched the material with her knees. The hem passed
across Ginny's mouth and nose, until her forehead
rested on the taut cloth and her eyes peered into the
musky darkness between her aunt's legs. The girl's head
flopped forward as the skirt moved higher; she raised
it in time to see Pamela reaching down to pull off her
panties. The women fiddled with the waistband, then
realized she'd never get them off with her knees on
either side of the footstool. She turned sideways,
removed her underwear, and tossed the damp garment
casually on Ginny's back.
Then she hiked her chair even closer, and threw
one leg over Ginny's back so that she straddled the
ottoman again. But this time the skirt was well out of
the way. And this time Pamela's thick dark bush was
completely exposed. And this time the woman let her
hips slide forward on the chair until her hot, sticky,
smelly pussy was just inches from her niece's face.
Ginny twisted against her restraints. "I never..." she
began in a pleading voice.
"I know," answered her aunt, her pleasure evident.
"But now you have to."
Ginny slowly snaked her tongue out. Her aunt's
smell was strong, but not disagreeable. She took a
lick, tasting for the first time the salty, gamy,
slightly fishy taste.
Pamela twined her hand in her niece's hair and
leaned back. This was going to be all right.
--------------------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 18. Continued soon!!
--------------------------------------------------------
Aunt Pamela
by
Ken Bristol
Chapter 19.
Pamela awoke to the first coolness of fall and padded
down the stairs for a cup of coffee. The house seemed
larger now that Billy was gone. She missed his eager
obedience, his quiet half-smile, his...well, she had to
admit to herself, mostly she missed his slim young hips
between her legs.
Ginny was on bathroom duty again. Naked, she knelt on
the floor by the commode and listened for Pamela's steps
in the hall. When her aunt arrived at the doorway, the
teenager looked properly at the floor. Pamela stepped
closer and raised her skirt. Ginny obediantly tugged
the older woman's panties down her legs, picked them
up, folded them carefully and hung them on the towel
rack. Pamela dropped her skirt, took a step backwards,
turned, and stood in front of the toilet. Ginny walked
forward on her knees and lifted her aunt's skirt clear
as she sat down on the seat; she had to reach around
behind the woman to hold the skirt up in back, and the
position brought her nose almost into contact with her
aunt's hairy bush. Ginny sat on her heels to wait for
her next duty. "Eyes," Pamela said without emphasis.
Ginny raised her gaze to her aunt's face, being careful
to keep her eyes wide, her lips slack and slightly
parted, and her expression that of a supplicant as she
absorbed the hard, superior look from the older woman.
After a few seconds Pamela's stream splashed into the
water, its burbling sound echoing against the hard
porcelain. A delicate spicy aroma invaded Ginny's
nostrils; she breathed as deeply as she could without
being obvious about it. When the last trickle fell into
the bowl, Pamela spread her legs and raised one eyebrow
significantly. The teenager bent forward and lapped at
the fine droplets that clung to her aunt's pussy,
smelling the odor of urine much more intensely now that
her head was poised over the toilet bowl. When Ginny
could find no more sour liquid, she started to pull
away, but found Pamela's hand firmly against the back
of her head. She knew what this meant; the girl lapped
energetically at the older woman's clitoris for fifteen
minutes and three orgasms. Pamela's juices and Ginny's
saliva dripped into the toilet bowl, streaking the
surface of the clear yellow pool.
* * *
Lit only by the dim light on the night stand, the
couple lay in exhausted disarray amidst damp, twisted
sheets. The apartment bedroom smelled strongly of sex
and sweat. The woman stirred languidly, reached for the
man, and kissed him softly but thoroughly on the lips.
Slowly, as if it took all her strength, she put an
elbow on the bed, and propped her head up. "Bobby," she
whispered, "That was incredible." "You took me places
I've never been before. And when I thought it was over,
you just took me higher. And you're so young -- just a
freshman -- but you're so patient, so caring, so
responsive, so inventive. How'd you get to be such a
good lover?"
"It's a long story," Bobby replied. "Let's just
say I had a good teacher."
The End.
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Well, that concludes another long story, folks! I hope
you enjoyed it....
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