Mom & Auntie's Whipping Boy
by Joyce Morrisey


FOREWORD 

Mythology from widely diverse cultures repeatedly tells of incestual sexual 
relations, frequently between father and daughter, more often between mother 
and son. Most if not all mythology has some basis in fact. Incest does 
occur, if not in reality, then most certainly in the fantasies of the human 
mind. This is borne out by the public's reaction to Freud's early work, the 
quick leap to the conclusion that the psychiatrist was inferring that all 
boys crave sexual intercourse with their mothers, and vice versa. 

Sibling rivalry is another subject occurring regularly in mythology and one 
which has been studied extensively by psychiatrists and psychologists. 
Jealousy between brother and brother, sister and sister. Along with this 
goes the often studied penis-envy, a yearning of a maladjusted sister, for 
instance, to have the sexual equipment of a favored brother. 

Sibling rivalry, penis-envy, and incest have been studied extensively and 
have been laid down in psychiatric journals as the root causes of 
considerable human unhappiness. But from mythological times until quite 
recently, puritanical censorship codes have kept these human behaviorisms 
out of the novelist's work. You could read about these things in dry medical 
journals--if you had access to them--and you could read about them in 
mythology books--if you could wade through the mystic symbolism in these 
volumes. But in contemporary fiction, the literature truly read by the 
public, these human behaviorisms were cautiously ignored. Until recently. 

Amid a great many admonitions, along with a huge amount of money spent on 
legal proceedings, censorship laws were changed and it became possible for 
the popular writer to include all human behavior in the books he was writing 
for the average citizen. Of course at first there was a great welter of 
quickly and poorly written books that dealt in nothing but sexual frankness, 
books that outdid each other in the number of times they could print the 
word fuck. These books sold well, for it was a novelty to be able to buy a 
book with that particular word in it. But they only sold well for a while, 
because there was very little of substance to connect the string of fucks in 
these books. Now at last the true impact of the censorship ban is emerging, 
exemplified by the book you now hold in your hands. 

This book does contain the word "fuck", and several other formerly verboten 
words. It also contains a close look at a fictitious but wholly believable 
case of double incest, of sibling rivalry, and of penis-envy. The material 
in this book is not couched in psychiatrist's terms nor is it set in the 
surreal surroundings of fabled mythology. Contemporary language is used in 
describing the confrontations between pubescent boy, widowed mother, and 
libertine aunt. Middle class suburbia is the setting for the explosive 
actions triggered by the visit of the aunt to the tensely quiet, manless 
household. Sin, punishment, and salvation is the theme of this work which 
goes far deeper than a mere showcase for the word, "fuck". 

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-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Unless Liz was badly mistaken, her nephew Paul was playing with his pecker 
as he sat across the breakfast table from her. This almost certain knowledge 
pleased her greatly, for she adored the pleasures of getting a male all hot 
and bothered and then making the most of his excitement to satisfy the warm 
desires constantly flowing in her very ripe body. The fact that Paul was a 
close relative and only fourteen years old did not detract from her pleasure 
now. Perhaps it even heightened that pleasure, because of the forbidden 
nature of his excitement, and because he was almost certainly a virgin. Ever 
since her arrival on Friday, Liz had feared she was in for a very dull two 
weeks stay with her widowed sister and her very shy nephew, but now, on 
Monday morning, Liz's panties were getting nicely wet and her whole outlook 
was brightening. Things would look brighter still once she made absolutely 
sure little Paul was masturbating while he looked at her. 

The boy was hunched over his cereal bowl, apparently intent on reading the 
message printed on the box of corn flakes that sat on the table between 
them. His thirty-six-year-old aunt was sipping her coffee as she read the 
morning paper. In addition to her tight white panties, all she had on was 
flimsy, flowered housecoat which provided ample exposure for the deep 
cleavage between her large round tits. It was her tits that inspired most of 
the lad's excitement. She had brazenly lovely features, lustrously thick 
black hair, and a creamy white complexion, but her sure knowledge of men and 
boys told her that Paul's initial excitement toward her was because of her 
nice big tits. 

In spite of himself, he'd been looking at her tits in every way he could 
ever since her arrival. The shape of them, the size, the way they softly 
jiggled when she walked, all had combined to keep his pecker so hot and hard 
and itching that he couldn't keep his hands off it. And so now, at the 
sunlit breakfast table, alone with his aunt at last, he simply couldn't keep 
from massaging his burning pecker through the faded fabric of his denim 
cut-offs. He was being so clever about it that he was sure she couldn't tell 
what he was doing. He would die of embarrassment if she caught him at it. 
And his mother would kill him. Still he couldn't stop. 

Liz could just see his right shoulder beyond her newspaper page. It was 
flexing rhythmically, and this was the clue that told her of his excitement. 
It stopped when she turned a page of the paper mi smiled at him, and it 
started up again when the newspaper was between them once more. She wondered 
if there was a picture on the back page of the paper that was arousing him 
to the point of jerking off, and then she realized it was really her who had 
him so nicely worked up, and that each time the paper came between them he 
was looking at her reflection in the window by the table. She had to give 
her only nephew more to look at than that. 

Even in the dimly reflecting window, the woman so close to Paul was a 
fantastically beautiful, wonderfully sexy one. She had knockers like you 
couldn't believe, and Paul had jerked off four or five times over the 
weekend just thinking about those. Her big, sweeping hips and her globular 
big butt had forced him to jerk off some more times. He hated himself for 
doing it, but since her arrival he was either jerking off or raising a new 
hard-on. Now the mere closeness of her was enough to get him going. Her 
perfume, lightly tinged with sleepy perspiration, the warmth he could feel 
emanating from her under the table, even her hands that held the paper had 
him crawling all over with hot, completely forbidden desire. She was big, 
almost fat, and even older than his skinny mother, and he was miserably 
ashamed of himself for his terrifically evil feelings toward her. He decided 
he'd jerk himself off one more time after breakfast, then never do it again 
for as long as he lived. 

Liz set the paper down and stretched, smiling at Paul with her full red lips 
and her long-lashed, bedroom eyes. Her heavy bosom swelled with her 
stretching and he bit his lip to keep from staring at her there. "What are 
you up to today?" she said, and Paul's hot hand trembled on his hotter prick 
and he mumbled, "Aw, nothing." 

"Such a beautiful day," she said, looking out the window to the back yard, 
"I suppose you'll find a place to go skinny-dipping." 

His shorts and tee-shirt were binding to him, all hot and sticky to his 
body. The thought of being naked made him pant through his open mouth, and 
he panted again as he looked straight at her luscious big tits while she 
continued to gaze out the window. 

"I used to love to take off all my clothes and go swimming with your mother 
when we were just girls. It felt so good on a hot day," she said, sensuously 
hugging herself, lifting her creamy white tit mounds to even more prominent 
display. "Sometimes the boys would sneak up and watch us through the 
bushes." He squirmed and she giggled and went on. "One day one of the boys 
couldn't stand it any more and jumped in with us. Your mother screamed and 
ran. I stayed, the rest of the boys jumped in, too, and we really had a time 
for ourselves till your mother came back with our dad. "Whew!" Liz squirmed 
and rubbed her bottom. "Did he ever blister me when we got home. Ah, the 
good old days," she said, and lit up a cigarette and gazed on out the window 
while Paul kept his hot red face turned toward her tits. She didn't need his 
reflection in the window pane to tell her he was masturbating under the 
table again--now she could smell it, and it set her mouth as well as her 
pussy to watering. 

Paul's prick was so hard it hurt, and his Aunt Liz looked so soft that he 
wanted to moan. He was sure somebody had fucked her at some time in her 
life--maybe one of those boys naked swimming with her?--and the thought of 
that made him mad. He longed with all his heart to be grown up, but he knew 
that when he did grow up, his aunt would be an old, old lady. All he could 
ever do about her was look and jerk off and be in love with her forever. She 
stirred and brushed his foot with hers and he almost creamed in his shorts. 
It was agony being so close to her, but it would be torture to leave. 

"Excuse me, Paul," she purred. "I didn't mean to kick you." 

"It's okay," he squeaked, ready to be trampled upon if that's what it took 
to stay close to her. 

"You don't look well," she said with some concern. "You look as if you might 
be running a fever," said she, and he shivered hotly all over as she reached 
out a cool, soft hand and touched his brow, letting her robe fall farther 
open, exposing still more of the shadowy white velvet globes of her tits. 

"I feel okay," he managed to say, as her wonderful hand crept over his 
forehead and down to his cheeks, over his burning ear and round the sweating 
nape of his neck. 

His eyes were all glazed and his tongue was almost hanging out in his raging 
desire, and Liz was loving every moment of the torment she was putting him 
through. She'd love it even more when she'd finished teasing him half to 
death and started screwing him good and proper. 

"You might be getting a summer cold," she told him, as her caressing hand 
kept his fever raging and her decolletage kept moving before him. "You 
probably need a tonic, or a nice cool enema." 

"It's awful... warm this morning," Paul muttered, squirming his tingling 
balls in a pool of sweat. 

"Would you like your auntie to give you an enema, dear? Would you hold still 
for that?" she said, eliciting new shivers from him by tracing the outline 
of his jaw and lips with her fingertip. 

"Wh--whatever you say, Auntie Liz," said the lovesick boy, and glanced 
directly at her tits for a moment, and felt faint from doing so. 

She had him stammering and blushing and about to burst with longing for her, 
but that wasn't quite enough. Smiling warmly, she silently coaxed his hands 
up on the table and grasped them in hers. She could smell the young cock 
they'd been fondling under the table and she hoped that cock was itching 
like fire right now. She felt a sympathy for this bashful virgin boy for he 
was her sister's son, but she also felt a delightful little cruel streak 
toward him in the remembrance of all the slights and hurts she'd felt at the 
hands of males not too much older than he. She also felt her panties getting 
wetter and wetter as she actually had her hands on him now. 

"All right," she said, "we have a date for an enema. I give very good ones." 

"Oh? Yuh do?" 

"Mm--hm--m--m. Do you like getting an enema, Paul?" 

"I guess so. I. . . sure," said the boy, hands in the soft prison of hers, 
yearning to leap out at the much larger softness of the big bosoms that swam 
in his misted vision. 

"Paulie?" she said. 

"Huh?" said he, hating her use of the diminutive of his name. 

"You don't even know what an enema is, do you?" 

He colored anew, hung his head miserably and slowly shook it, staring 
straight at her tits now and wishing he could die. 

She patted his hands. "You'll find out. It's just what you need to get you 
out of your mopiness. I never saw such a mopey, star-gazing boy in my life. 
You'd think you've never even seen a woman before in your life, and I know 
very well you've looked at your mother when she was undressing and things." 

"I didn't!" he weakly protested, and just as weakly tried to pull away from 
her, but her hands wouldn't let him. "Besides," he mumbled, "she isn't like 
you." 

"Helen's a very good-looking woman. Not exactly built like me, perhaps, 
but...." She took a hand from his to slip it inside her housecoat and quite 
brazenly fondle one of her big warm jugs, making her nephew frankly gape. 
"But then few women are built as well as I am. Would you like to see?" she 
said, with her lightly veiled hand moving everywhere on her velvety smooth 
tit, and on the generously big nipple that was already stiffened to a softly 
rigid point. 

"I... could I?" he implored. "Would you ... let me look at 'em ... at you?" 

Liz drew her other hand back and poised it at the closure of her robe. She 
hesitated, relishing the fearful pleading in his eyes. She laughed and shook 
her head. "Better not. You'd tell your mother and she wouldn't understand." 

"But I wouldn't! Oh, please, Aunt Liz! Please, I'd do anything, just to ... 
just to LOOK at you!" 

"You'd always be a good and obedient boy, and do everything and anything I 
ask of you without any complaining?" 

"Yes! Oh, yes, Aunt Liz!" 

"And you'd promise not to breathe a word of it to your mother or to anyone 
at all?" 

"I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die!" 

"And you'd take your enema and like it?" 

"Yes! Yes!" 

"And you'd show me what your prickie looks like?" 

"I believe I'll go take my shower," Liz said, and bundling her robe around 
her bounteous breasts, started to rise from the table. 

"Wait!" he blurted. "Don't go yet! I'll. .. I'll show you anything you want! 
I'll do anything you want me to! If you'll just... let me ... 
lookatcherboobs!" 

"Beautiful big things," she purred, already baring them as she sank back 
into her seat. "Lovely big tits that women are all jealous of and that men 
adore to get their hands on," she said, lifting and fondling the big 
beauties in the most sensuous manner for the further excitement of the 
gape-jawed, goggling boy. "Yes, I'm so proud of these beauties of mine, and 
I love to touch them and play with them and kiss them almost as much as a 
man does," she said, and amply demonstrated this by lifting a heavy globe 
and capturing a turgid brown nipple between her ruby lips. 

She winked at him as she sucked sensually on it, smiling, feeling the 
sensation down to her increasingly raging pussy, and now he moaned aloud and 
twisted his face up and dropped his hands into his lap. At once she let her 
kiss-wet nipple pop from her lips and beckoned to him with a red, 
lacquer-tipped finger, saying, "Hands on the table, Paul. No more jacking 
off, and that's an order." 

"I didn't! I WASN'T!" he said with all righteousness, eyes never leaving her 
bare tits for a moment. 

"And no lying," she sternly said, and began to cover up her breasts. 

"I won't do it any more!" he promised. 

She smiled as his hands returned to the tabletop and resumed the heavy 
fondling of her breasts. She looked down with him at the movements of her 
hands, saying, "Women's tits are so lovely. I can understand mens' 
fascination with them. They fascinate me, too. I enjoy looking at a pair of 
well-shaped tits. Like Racquel Welch's. Like your mother's. But I have my 
very own set of well-shaped tits to look at any time I want to, and I can 
play with 'em, too. Mm--m--m--m. They feel so good. And they're big enough 
for me to suck on, too," she said, demonstrating this briefly once again. "I 
just love my big old titties," she said, milling and squeezing them before 
his bulging eyes. "I'm so glad I have such big ones," she proudly reported, 
and took her hands away to shake them back and forth like water-filled 
balloons. 

"Ah--h--h, they're bee--yootiful!" he moaned, and slumped down in his 
hard-backed chair. 

"Hands on the table," she reminded him, and pulled her nipples to sharper, 
more sensitive points. 

"If I could only touch 'em once," he murmured, pleading with his moist brown 
eyes while his hands twitched helplessly on the table. 

"You can if you're good, Paulie. But first come around here on my side of 
the table and show me what you've got." 

He slumped farther in his chair. "I don't think I can get up." 

She looked away from him, down to her big white tits, and murmured, "I think 
you'd better, dear." 

"Jeezus--Peezus," he mumbled, rasping back his chair and swaying to his 
feet. "I don't know what I'm doin', he said, weak fingers fumbling at the 
buttons of his cut-off denims. 

When it came to men's flies, Liz knew what she was doing. Her hand snaked 
out and grasped his wrist to pull him stumbling around the table to her 
side. She'd seen a lot of men's pricks, and she'd used most of the ones 
she'd seen, but the prospect of each new one still excited her deeply and 
this one was no exception, even though it did belong to a beardless boy. 
"Don't. I don't know if I can stand it," he said, swaying and sweating, in 
such a torment of embarrassment that he even looked away from her heavily 
hanging tits. 

"You'll stand it and you'll like it," said Liz, working the top two buttons 
open, then ripping open the rest as the prominent bulge in his thin little 
shorts proved itself to be a fine little pink-headed prick, untouched by the 
cruel knife of the circumcising doctor. 

"Oh, Paul! Oh, just look what you've got!" she excitedly exclaimed, softness 
of tit fully forgotten now in the glorious hot hardness of young cock. 

She had one hand curled around it at once. "Please! Don't!" he babbled, 
reaching for his shorts. 

She jerked them out of his hand, letting them fall to his ankles, never 
letting go of his wonderful hard young prick for a moment. Even though she'd 
had a rousing good screwing just a few days before, Liz felt as horny as she 
ever had in her life before. She knew she should linger over this first 
meeting with his cock, make the most of it and of his embarrassment, but she 
also knew he was young and strong enough to be rejuvenated quickly, and so 
she didn't hold back at all. 

"Hold still, darling. I'm going to make you feel good," she breathlessly 
promised, moving her soft hand quickly up and down his hard cock. "Darling 
little balls and a perfectly beautiful little ass," she excitedly said, 
feeling quickly of each of these erotic portions of the man-child's body 
with her free hand while she rapidly jerked him off. "Don't move, and don't 
hold back," she commanded, and he uttered a thin, whining wail and began to 
shoot and spurt through her loving hand. 

It had been years since Liz had had a boy this young and she'd forgotten how 
forcefully they ejaculated. His lovely white semen spat out in hard jets, 
certainly in full proportion to the hard pleasures a boy of his age 
experienced in cumming. She gasped in surprise at the first of these 
arrowlike jets shooting from his bone-hard pecker, then caught herself and 
with hand still flying turned the rosy pink head of his prick so that the 
rich white goo could kiss her tingling hot tits. 

"Get it all out! Every bit of it!" she hotly whispered, wonderfully aroused, 
far more than she'd thought she would be, and demandingly pumping more and 
more of the boy-cum out of his pulsing prick and onto her tits and her robe. 

He was moaning and swaying, tight little balls exploding through his prick 
time after time, time after time, and still Liz demanded, "Does it feel 
good? Do you like it when I make you cum like this?" 

"Ah-h-h-h! Oh-h-h-h!" he replied, close to fainting, not believing the 
enormity of feeling she'd made possible for him. 

"Oh--h--h, yes, it's so good, it's so good," she purred, cumming herself in 
a way, and clutching his spare little buttocks to hug him against her so 
that his now oozing prick was embraced by those big old tits that had been 
so helpful in his seduction. "Nothing like cumming, and as long as you're a 
good boy, your Auntie Liz will make you cum all the time while I'm here, all 
the fucking time, darling!" 

CHAPTER TWO 

Paul felt ripped apart by the long, heavy ejaculation. Though his 
well-exercised prick was still good and hard, he felt completely drained and 
quite dazed and logey from the unexpected jerking-off his lovely Aunt Liz 
had given him. He sagged against her comfortingly soft bulk, feeling her 
tits with his wet prick rather than with the hands that had longed for them, 
and he was far too dazzled to realize what she was doing now. 

"Such a good boy. He had himself such a nice big cum," Liz purred, smoothing 
his hard cock deep against her soft tits, rubbing his sticky semen all over 
her big beauties and lifting her hand when she could to lick her wet palm 
and taste his rich young goodness. 

She'd gobbled down a lot of cum in her life. She enjoyed the flavor of it 
and was a believer when it came to the health-giving, sex-stimulating 
qualities of semen. A mature man's cum tasted wholesomely good to her, an 
old man's cum was quite palatable, but this young lad's cum tasted like 
nectar to her. Time and again Liz licked her palm clean, returned it for 
more of the slick goo on her tits, then milked the last thick pearly drops 
from his still-hard prick and sucked them off her fingers--all without his 
innocent knowledge. He wouldn't be so innocent for long..... 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it," Paul muttered in a 
fluttery voice, unsure of the reality of the situation but nevertheless very 
much embarrassed. "I gotta get my pants back on," he said, and tried to 
stoop and reach them. 

Liz straightened him up with a goose and said, "Nonsense. You won't be 
needing those for a while. Heavens, I've hardly even seen you, and there's 
such a lot to see. You've a darling little prick, Paulie, and with my help 
it'll grow to be a nice big one," she said squeezing it and looking at it as 
she held it in the palm of her hand. 

"I'm so glad you're not circumcised. It's fascinating the way your little 
foreskin rolls back and forth over the knob of your pricky-poo," said she, 
holding him locked in the circle of her strong right arm while she examined 
his prick at eye level. 

"Such a pretty thing, the shaft so white and slim, the knob so rosy pink, 
and still nice and hard for me. So pretty I've just got to . . . 
m-m-m-m...." 

She touched her lips to its dampened knob and he stiffened and tried to draw 
away. "Don't! That's not nice," he said, fully aware of his near total 
nudity now and quite desperate to do something about it. 

She laughed and looked up at him, stroking his prick and fondling his balls, 
and said, "What's not nice about kissing a pretty thing like a boy's prick?" 

"It's what qu-queers do," he explained, wondering for the first time just 
what sort of a situation he'd gotten himself involved in. 

She kissed his prick and sighed and said, "I guess that makes me a queer, 
whatever that is." She patted and squeezed his naked buns, wonderfully firm 
and round, and said, "You're just such a pretty boy that I can't take my 
hands off you. We're going to have such fun together. I'm so glad I decided 
to take my vacation with you and Helen. Let's see if your balls are as 
pretty as your prick, dear." 

"Don't," he asked of her again, more weakly now as her hand moved back and 
forth between his legs, first pushing his tightly sacked nuts up to his 
puckering asshole, then dragging them, forward where she could gaze at them 
while they nestled on her soft palm. 

"Why? Doesn't it feel good?" said his aunt, beaming a radiant smile up at 
him while continuing to fondle his balls in that spectacular way and brush 
his inner thighs with her hand and pet and play at his buttocks. 

Paul's prick was as hard as it had ever been in his young life. Without a 
hair around it, it stood naked up at an angle from his loins, making it 
quite impossible for him to deny the deeply sensual pleasures he was feeling 
at the knowledgeable hands of his aunt. He was tingling all over from the 
residues of his bursting orgasm and from the very erotic massaging he was 
getting but still his deeply ingrained modesty prevented him from letting 
himself go with the pleasures at hand. It all felt so very good that he knew 
there was something wrong with it. 

He gulped and said, "It feels weird. It feels ... I better go. I gotta mow 
the lawn and things or Mom'll be mad." 

"Oh, she's always mad at something or other. There's plenty of time for your 
chores. Stay with me now and we'll have some more fun," said Liz, for his 
very complete orgasm had sharply whetted her appetite for a good cum for 
herself. 

"I gotta do my work," he said, and again tried to pull away. 

Her arm locked around his hips and her nails dug into his buttflesh. Her 
smile faded and an eyebrow lifted and she said, "As I recall, you promised 
to obey me." 

He squirmed in mixed embarrassment and pain and said, "Yeah, but. .." 

"No buts," she said, digging in with her claws. Her deep blue eyes bored 
into his until his gaze wavered away into acquiescence, and then she smiled 
and patted his ass and said, "Come, let's wash up a bit, dear. Just leave 
your shorts where they've fallen." 

Liz rose from the breakfast table and strode through the little tract house 
toward the bathroom, robe trailing behind her like wings. Paul followed 
dejectedly, fearfully, too caught up in his feelings of guilt and fear to 
fully appreciate the saucy lilt of his aunt's womanly big hips and the 
provocative bobbing of her wavy black hair. If only he had something on 
besides his tee-shirt, he felt, he might be able to control his childish 
blushing and his itchingly hard prick. 

She led him on into the bathroom and he had to stand there twisting his 
hands before his naked loins while she stood in front of the sink. He 
watched with mild distaste as she smeared more ruby lipstick on her lips, 
and he managed a weak smile at her as she winked at him while rubbing her 
glossy lips together and licking them with a very pink tongue. But his smile 
grew genuine and his eyes bulged out when she shrugged off her robe and let 
it fall behind her. 

Liz understood her nephew's post-orgasmic guilt and she also understood the 
fascination of her lovely big tits. Although she was well-built all over, 
with fine tapered legs and a superbly rounded bottom and a softly slim 
waist, her tits were indeed the best part of her. At her age they were 
starting to sag a bit from their ample weight, but they still retained much 
of the shape of vibrant youth. They were big blunt cones, fully rounded on 
their undersides and creamily sloped on top, crested with coaster-sized 
aureoles around sharply protuberant brown nipples. Just a glimpse of her 
naked tits was more than enough to distract a boy from his guilt, and Liz 
was giving young Paul more than just a glimpse. 

Her tits quivered and shook in a wholly fascinating way as she lathered her 
hands with scented soap. They were bulging down right over the sink, not a 
yard away from him, while she stood there with nothing on except a pair of 
plain white panties and prepared to wash herself. He hardly noticed the 
flashing red smile she shot him now and was scarcely even aware of his 
sharply upright prick as he watched her well soaped hands fondle and caress 
her tits in spreading the lather over them. 

Her hands moved so very smoothly there. The heavy globes yielded to their 
every touch as tiny bubbles of white were spread on to help make the big 
beauties glisten and gleam with increasingly erotic beauty. He nodded mutely 
as she spoke something about cleanliness and hygiene in sex, his avid eyes 
not missing even a microsecond of the spectacular tit show that was his to 
behold. She was the most beautiful woman in the world and Paul was 
hopelessly in love with her once again. 

Sudsy water was drooling down Liz's belly to wet the front panel of panties 
whose crotch was already more than just damp, but she didn't mind a bit. As 
expected, she'd totally captivated the boy once again, just as she'd always 
be able to captivate him. The feeling of power this gave her was quite 
pleasant, though not so pleasant as the feeling of anticipation of the total 
joys she'd soon be knowing once his training was well under way. She let the 
creamy foam drip from her titties as she drew him to the sink with her. 

"We've got to wash you, too," she said, lathering her hands anew and fully 
enjoying his little gasp as she swathed his hairless loins in the creamy 
soapsuds. 

She laughed as he emitted little squeaks and went up on his toes from the 
way she was delving a soapy finger up his butt while washing his balls. She 
kept brushing her slickened tits up against his chest, knowing full well the 
added effect this had on him. She kept telling him what a beautiful boy he 
was and what fun they were going to have together and his lovesick gaze at 
her was almost as satisfying as a cum. 

"We're all nice and clean now. Ill rinse us off and then you can dry," she 
said, and splashed cool water on them until boy and woman were dripping in 
puddles on the bathroom floor. 

Paul's hands had been twitching, itching to feel of her voluptuous white 
curves. He knew he was grinning like a fool but he couldn't help that as 
over and over he 'accidentally' brushed fingers against flesh far too soft 
and smooth for the likes of an undeserving boy like himself. His prick was 
touching her tummy, too, hugely embarrassing to him, but seemingly of no 
concern at all to her. That softly rounded tummy was now covered with white 
nylon that was so soaking wet as to be very nearly transparent. He was 
afraid to look at his aunt down there, but at least he was no longer afraid 
to look at her heavily pendant but still outthrusting tits, absolutely 
gorgeous, and surely the biggest in the whole world. He didn't believe he'd 
heard her right when she'd said he could dry her off and he was too confused 
and tongue-tied at the moment to ask for confirmation of this. 

But sure enough, she turned off the water and handed him a towel, then stood 
dripping and gleaming and beautiful while he clumsily swabbed himself dry, 
looking openly at her now. 

It was hard for his gaze to get past her tits. They were so very big, their 
white texture was so flawless, their nipples and aureoles so utterly 
intriguing. He'd often looked at his mother's breasts, always when covered 
by a dress of course, and marveled at the shape and size of them. He'd 
sometimes seen pictures of naked tits and he'd certainly thought about 
seeing real ones sometime, but never had he thought he'd see such perfect 
big ones as these, right up close, completely uncovered, and seeming to be 
pulsing and throbbing with vibrant life even though their proud owner stood 
motionless. And soon--quite unbelievably--he'd be touching them through the 
towel. ... He beamed a weak smile up at her lovely, lovely face and she blew 
him a kiss from her ruby lips. He blushed anew and cast his eyes down, 
getting his first clear look at her loins, tightly sheathed in that wet 
white nylon, which very clearly showed a wide, fanlike patch of black which 
he knew to be her cunt. He was almost sick with confused longing as he 
dabbed the last of the water from his aching nuts. 

"Now dry me," she said, and languidly placed her hands behind her neck. 

"Aw-w-w-w," he moaned, and dropped the towel, bent and picked it up, coming 
intoxicatingly close to her wide white loins. He felt dizzy. His head was 
swimming as he gingerly touched the towel to her elbows, then her arms, 
whose warmth and softness could clearly be felt through the towel. 

She wiggled her torso back and forth again and said, "Dry me," and he moaned 
again in ecstasy and dropped his towel-covered hands to her tits. 

"Oh-h-h. Oh, no-o-o. Oh-h-h-h," he moaned, as his trembling hands felt the 
full weight and softness of those glorious globes. "Oh, gosh. Aw-w-w, gee," 
he muttered, as he very gently blotted liquid spheres dry and felt the 
astonishing texture of the nipples he could no longer see. 

Her hips swayed forward to brush his prick with her tummy, she raised her 
smile from her bosom to his face, and murmured, "You have nice hands. I'll 
bet the girls all love it when you feel them up." 

He shook his head slowly, hands still moving slowly, and muttered, "Uh-uh. I 
never... even touched a girl before." 

"D'you like it? D'you like playing with your auntie's big old foo-foos?" 

"Oh, yeah! Oh, it's just... They just feel so ... I just never felt anything 
so ... so GOOD!" 

"Then why don't you do it right?" she said, and drew the towel out from 
between them. 

"Oh, Aunt Liz!" he said, looking from her tits to her eyes and back again. 
"I never felt anything so ... Oh my gosh!" 

"You're a real titty-lover, aren't you?" she said, and covered his hands 
with hers to help him along. "You really enjoy a woman with big warm tits 
that love to get played with, don't you," said she, helping him more with 
her increasingly explicit language, and helping herself at the same time, 
for she loved to talk about whatever sex she was currently enjoying. She was 
well on the way toward an orgasm as she said, "You're the kind of a boy 
who'd love to kiss big titties like mine and suck on their nipples till you 
made your gal's panties all wet and hot. You are. I can tell from the feel 
of your hands on my tits and from the way you look at them so hot and 
hungry. Mm-m-m. Mm-hm-m-m. Has anyone ever taught you to French kiss?" 

"I don't know ANYTHING," he whined, almost mauling those gorgeous big tits 
now, making the very most of it while he could. 

"Then open your mouth and learn, Paulie," said this fantastic woman who was 
his aunt, and she placed her palms against his cheeks and drew his 
slack-jawed face forward toward the open red cavern of her lips, and the 
long pink beckoning tongue within. 

They were of the same height. His nose got in the way for a moment and he 
felt he might drown in the deep blue of her eyes, but then he was feeling 
the sensation of a full-blown passionate kiss and nothing else mattered for 
the moment. Her mouth was warm and wet and sweet and very soft. He could 
feel it engulfing all of him. Her tongue was tangling languorously all 
around, inviting his into motion, and as he clumsily delved in her mouth he 
tasted something beyond the perfumed sweetness of her lipstick, something 
rich and almost rank and very perversely thrilling to him. He was holding 
his breath, trembling all over, and then he began to pant rapidly through 
his flaring nostrils as she began to suck on his tongue and pull him deeper 
into the kiss, deeper into ecstasy. 

Her hands were soft yet very strong on his body, crushing him into her, it 
seemed. Her tits were now mashed flat against his chest and somehow his 
prick had gotten between her legs so that it felt the softness of her twat 
and the startling warmth there. His hands trembled lightly on her very soft 
waist while he stood there with every part of his body save his tongue in 
complete paralysis, and then he shuddered and shivered all over as she ran 
her hands up and down his back, inside his wet tee-shirt and over his tensed 
buttocks, raking him lightly with her nails. Every hair on his body seemed 
to stand on end at this, and then quite suddenly he was clutching her 
cushiony big fanny in frantic desperation and creaming heavily against her 
loins. 

"Mmf! Mmf!" He tried to tell her he was sorry, tried to hold back the 
unexpected ejaculation. But already he was shooting as heavily as before, 
and there was no turning back from that, and now her arms were truly 
crushing him into the kiss and against her body, and the bear hug seemed to 
force more and still more of his strength and his jism out of him. He 
twisted feebly in her arms while she hugged and sucked harder and he kept 
cumming harder, squirting between her legs and up her belly. His tongue felt 
as if it might be torn out by the roots, and somehow he didn't care just as 
long as the embrace endured and his prick kept squirting and helping him 
remain in that state of ecstasy. But nothing lasts forever, especially the 
good things, and when his spurtings had dribbled off to oozings she suddenly 
released him and he sagged back against the shower door, panting through 
swollen lips, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you all messy again. I'm 
sorry, Aunt Liz." 

CHAPTER THREE 

"You should be sorry, you hair-triggered little sonofa . . ." Liz controlled 
her flaming temper better than she was controlling her flaming pussy. She 
looked down at her loins, all covered with his pearly goo, and she clucked 
at the waste of it and looked up at her nephew, still sagged against the 
shower stall. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I just never got kissed like that before. I mean, 
Mom never .. . NOBODY ever kissed me like THAT before. Are you mad at me?" 

She was damned mad at him, though he wasn't the first male to leave her 
jangled and frustrated. He was close to tears in his contrition, but she'd 
give him more than a premature ejaculation to cry about when it was time for 
him to cry. She smiled and tousled his brown hair and brought forth an 
immediate smile from him. "Don't worry about it," she said. "You've plenty 
more where that came from. Whew! You've got me all weak in the knees," she 
said, and backed up and sat down on the toilet seat. Looking down at her 
well-creamed loins, she added, "And you've got me all pecker-tracked, too. 
Be a dear and wipe it off with that wash cloth." 

Paul hesitated right where he was. His beautiful Aunt Liz somehow didn't 
look quite so beautiful now, seated on the crapper, leaned back against the 
commode, big tits sagging and widely opened loins all smeared with his fresh 
jism. He was appalled, repelled, and he could feel his pecker shriveling up 
to nothing. He longed to be out on a baseball field somewhere, in swimming 
at the beach, anywhere but in this fetid bathroom with this disgustingly 
wicked fat woman. But he was too much of a gentleman to leave her like this, 
especially since she was his aunt, and so at another gesture from her he 
gingerly picked up the washcloth and falteringly approached her. 

The white flesh that he daubed at with the cloth had the consistency of 
jelly. An odor emanated from her loins that was slightly sickening to him, 
then almost nauseating as he recognized it as being very similar to the 
flavor of her deep French kiss. Even her tits didn't look so good by then, 
and he wondered what the big deal had been about getting to touch them. 
Women just weren't for him, he decided. It had been a scary and interesting 
experiment, but from then on he'd confine his sexual activities to 
masturbation, if he ever decided to have anything to do with sex at all. 

But of course Liz, wise in the ways of the young male, was well ahead of 
him. His two quick spendings had certainly drained the sexual energies from 
even a body as young as his, and she was now looking forward with rather 
vengeful relish to reviving those energies in spades and then leaving him to 
wonder what was happening to him. She didn't think she'd be acting cruelly. 
If she thought anything at all in her current state of horny frustration it 
was that her actions were for Paul's good, and that by the time she got done 
with him he'd welcome any form of sexual arousement at all and make the most 
of it. 

That musky, penetrating smell of her had Paul close to nausea as he dabbed 
and swabbed his goo from her big flabby thighs and crotch. He knew by then 
it was coming from her pussy, and he wondered how any man could stand to put 
his pecker in something as rotten as that. And it looked so weird, even 
inside her semi-transparent panties, with so much hair around it that there 
were wavy strands of it poking out from between her pallid, puffy thighs and 
her tight elastic legholes. But it was the smell of it that was getting to 
him, rising like steam from a pot of boiling cabbage as he bent over her and 
did for her what she should be doing for herself. He'd have to endure it for 
a few more minutes before he could get out of there and take off for the 
rest of the day. 

She smiled like a lazy witch and ran her hand down over her bulging belly 
and crotch, fingernails looking bloodsoaked against the dull white of her 
panties. "That feels better. You got almost all of it, Paulie. Go over it 
once more now. It feels so nice to have you touch me down there between my 
fat old legs." 

Fat is right, he said to himself, and quickly rinsed the washcloth and 
brusquely slapped it on her twat, making her give a start. Getting angry now 
as well as impatient, he managed to give one of her stray hairs a sharp 
pull, which made her wince and briefly frown, and which would surely get him 
out of there all the quicker. 

He flung the cloth into the sink and started to turn out the door, but she 
stopped him with, "Wait a minute." 

"I gotta go. I got things to do," he said, still waiting while she leisurely 
toweled her gaping fat crotch dry. 

"I know you're a busy boy," she said, "but you can't leave a lady without 
kissing her good-bye." 

She dropped the towel on the floor and smiled and held out her arms to him, 
sitting there on the gosh-damned crapper, lipstick all smeared and hair 
tousled and those big old floppy tits all over her chest. But if it took a 
kiss to get out of there, he could make the sacrifice. He stepped quickly to 
her, bent with puckered lips, and placed them on hers. 

Of course she wouldn't let him get out of it that easily. Her hand curled 
creepily around his neck to hold his pure lips against her sullied ones, and 
Paul began to count from one hundred backwards, anything to distract himself 
from getting sick. 

Her mouth didn't smell so bad now. Nothing could after being as close as 
he'd been to her pussy. In fact there was more sweetness than foulness on 
her lips now. And she wasn't trying to gag him with her tongue and she 
wasn't trying to suck him down inside her. Now her lips were quite soft, 
almost silky, and she was just using the tip of her tongue to tickle across 
his firmly closed lips. Her hand tickled, too, as it moved ever so slightly 
over his nape, raising the hackles there, making him sway toward her so that 
he had to steady himself with a hand on her very soft but inwardly powerful 
shoulder. Her hand brushing lightly up the side of his thigh raised 
gooseflesh all over him. He felt his prick giving him a warning twitch and 
at this he pulled away from her lest it get hard again and give her the 
wrong idea. 

"Better get going now," he briskly said, pulling his tee-shirt down over his 
pecker and balls, still troubled by that gooseflesh. 

She sat up straighter on the toilet seat, her altered posture performing 
miracles for her bulkily drooping breasts. Her smile was wistful now as she 
cupped each of them in her hands and said, "After the lovely massage you 
gave them, my big old boo-boos will miss you, too. I think you'd better kiss 
them bye-bye, too." 

Jeezus-Peezus. Tit-kissing. He'd heard about it in rude jokes, dreamed about 
it in fevered nightmares. This might be his only chance in life to actually 
experience it, and if he was going to get by on masturbation from then on, 
he'd better give himself something to remember while he jerked off. Paul 
swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded and bent down to kiss a tit. 

"Kneel down, honey. Do it right. Here, get between my legs," she said, and 
he did with the guidance of her soft, soft hands, grateful that this 
position concealed his hard, hard prick from her. Her tits were right before 
him now, each one looking as big as his head, each with its own big brown 
nipple pointing at him as if in warning. She wasn't giving him any help, she 
was running her hands over his shoulders and nape and tousling his hair, and 
he didn't know if he wanted to go through with it, but didn't know how to 
back out now. Her inner thighs felt clammy cold against his waist and her 
waist felt too soft under his quaking hands, but it was those weirdly 
textured, accusingly pointing nipples that bothered him the most. He took a 
deep breath, his stomach gave a turn at the smell of her pussy, and then he 
darted his head forward and gave each of the rubbery-looking protuberances a 
fast peck. 

Paul leaned back breathless, licking his lips, quite surprised at how little 
her nipples actually felt like rubber. They felt like some sort of velvet. 
He licked his lips again, thinking of velvet-covered gum-drops, and his 
Auntie Liz purred and swelled her chest with a deep inhalation and said, 
"Nice, but not near enough for a real good-bye kiss. Have you got a few more 
kisses for my titties?" 

He felt of them better with his lips this time, trying to compare the 
corrugated texture of the thrusting nipples to things he was more familiar 
with, but failing. Now he could see what the fuss about tit-kissing was; it 
was because it was so unique. He pecked back and forth at them pleased for 
her as well as for himself, for it was obvious that she liked it too. When 
he went from one to the other she was there to meet him, twisting her soft 
and supple waist so that another hard nipple was there as soon as his lips 
left one. He'd have a lot to remember about this, and he'd relive every 
moment of it while he was jerking off, just as soon as he could get 
someplace by himself. That would have to be soon, because his stiff prick 
was beginning to itch pretty badly. Paul gave his favorite nipple--the left 
one--a particularly resounding kiss and sat back on his haunches and pulled 
his tee-shirt all the way down. 

"Nice," said his Aunt Liz, lightly teasing her well-stiffened nipples with 
her red-tipped fingers. 

"Women just love to have their nips kissed. They like to have them sucked, 
too. Did you know that, Paul?" 

"Huh-unh." He shook his head, staring straight ahead at the most magnificent 
pair of tits in the world, and rubbing his thighs with hands that longed to 
be on his pecker. 

"Some women can cum just from having their tits sucked on, but the man has 
to really know what he's doing. I'll bet that's something else you didn't 
know." 

His imagination swept him to the vision of swallowing one of those big 
things, stiff brown nipples, wide tan aureole, creamy white globe and all, 
and he gulped and muttered, "Gee." 

She readied forward, tugged his tee-shirt out of his hands and up over his 
head, and his eyes were still focused on her tits when again he could see 
them. He gnashed his teeth as she made a beautifully sexy mouth, lifted a 
heavy round titty to it and touched her pink tongue-tip to the nipple. A 
look of ecstatic reverie transformed her face into one of a TV star, and she 
said to the naked, kneeling boy, "You don't know much about sex yet, but one 
thing you'll learn is that the mouth is a sex organ. The tongue, the lips, 
even the teeth are almost as important to having fun as a person's hands 
are. Right now you seem to think my wanting to kiss your prick isn't nice, 
but you'll find out differently someday. Someday soon, I hope." 

He just wanted to kiss her tits one more time, feel 'em with his tongue 
maybe, and get out of there. He didn't even want to talk about kissing 
pricks, but he decided that was the price he had to pay for one more taste 
of her nipples. "Uh-huh," he said. "Can I do it now? I mean ... kiss your 
... you there one more time?" 

She smiled. "Do you remember what I taught you about French kissing?" 

"Yeah." The gooseflesh rose again at the thought of that, and he became 
quickly aware of her fetid smell again. It was close to his nostrils now, 
but it didn't seem to affect the raging hard state of his prick at all. He 
was gnashing his teeth in a conflicting desire to stay and to go, and then 
she lifted his hands and placed both of them on her creamy big left tit and 
said, "Then French me, baby, French me good." 

This was it. Those stupid little kisses of minutes ago were only 
lip-touchings. It was perfectly clear to him now, that nipples and mouths 
were made to go together and that hands were there to squeeze the big tit 
behind the nipple so that the mouth could suck it better and the tongue 
could taste more of it. Tit-sucking was the most fantastic thing in the 
world and he could never ever get enough of it. As long as he was sucking 
it, lashing nipple with tongue and digging fingers into resilient softness, 
even the rising scent of pussy was something good and exciting. Eyes closed, 
hands and mouth full, Paul inhaled deeply of his wonderful aunt's delicious 
scent, while she echoed back his deep, deep pleasures in a crooning voice. 

"God damn, you really know how to suck tit. Well then, suck 'em, baby, suck 
on both of 'em and love 'em up with your hard little tongue and make your 
horny old auntie so fucking hot she'll cream in her panties. Darling, I love 
it. Oooo, you've got a wonderful mouth. Suck, baby, suck, till momma has a 
nice hot cum. Oooo, how I'd like to feel that hot mouth of yours on my 
cunt!" she said, and grasping him by the ears, she wrenched him away from 
her tit, bored deep within him with blazing eyes, and mashed her mouth on 
his. 

Good God, her mouth tasted every bit as good as her tit had. And in the few 
minutes he'd had to kiss that tit, he'd learned a lot more about Frenching, 
which he frenziedly showed to her, sucking her tongue and mouthing her lips 
while his hands kept up the fires he'd started in her tits, her wonderful, 
wonderful tits. He knew the fires were there, that she was as excited as his 
prick was, for now she was panting through her nostrils like him and 
squeezing him hard to her, squirming up to the edge of the toilet seat and 
kissing him back with inspiring ardor. Her legs were around his waist, 
hauling him at her and mashing his naked belly against the firm big bulge of 
her twat, so wet and slick now that he knew it was from something other than 
their rinse water. He was fully engulfed in the kiss, mashing his mouth 
against hers and swapping tongues for all he was worth and suctioning as 
heavily as she was when she showed him a new sexy nuance of the fabled 
French kiss. With difficulty she pushed him back a bit until their opened 
and extended lips had parted, and there she kept his tongue in a tangle with 
hers while each panted into the other's mouth and he gulped deeply of the 
fantastically beautiful scent of woman in heat. Then with a moan of deep 
ecstasy she pushed his head down to her tits again. 

"Suck tit, baby. Bite it. Oh! No, you didn't hurt me, bite it again. OH! AH! 
Oh, you sexy little shit, am I ever going to make a man out of you. 
Nnngngngngggggg. NNNGGGGGGGGG! AH-H-H-H-H-Y-Y-Y-E-A-H-H-H!!!" she wailed, as 
if she was having some sort of epileptic seizure, but that didn't bother 
Paul a bit, for he knew she was cumming and he knew he'd done it to her, so 
he kept right on gnawing and sucking on her rubbery old nipple, wanting to 
laugh at the way he was making her squirm and jump and moan on the toilet 
seat, and doing some squirming and pushing himself with his hard young belly 
against her wet and discernibly throbbing twat. 

CHAPTER FOUR 

Paul was sure his Aunt Liz was still cumming when he tore his hot mouth from 
her tit and wrenched himself out from between her encircling legs. He'd made 
up his mind on the spur of the moment to be a complete man, and now was 
certainly the best time to go through with it. She was still moaning and 
groaning, clawing at her abandoned tits and even grabbing at her big old 
cunt as he blurted, "Take off those pants. I'm gonna screw yuh. Right now!" 

There was nothing Liz wanted more than to be screwed just then--unless it 
was the steady screwing and all that went with it that she needed so badly, 
and so she pulled her raging senses together and quelled her lovely little 
orgasm and said, "Darling, don't sweep me off my feet. I've got to rest for 
a bit after that marvelous tit-sucking you gave me. Oh, you're so wonderful, 
so forceful," she said, and clasped him hard around the neck and mashed her 
mouth on his with a lusty abandon sure to overwhelm him, which it did. He 
was panting when she leaned back against the commode, at least partially 
satisfied, legs sprawled out and lipstick smeared mouth smiling as she 
dragged him with her. 

"Honey, you're such a passionate boy I don't know if I can keep up with you. 
You've just got to let me rest now and then. I don't believe I've ever had 
my tits sucked so nice before, at least not for a long time. You made me cum 
so good, and now you want to screw me right away. Do you think that'd be 
nice?" 

"Sure! It'd be great... I guess," said Paul, with his belly up against that 
cunt he suddenly wanted so badly and with her wonderfully beautiful and 
marvelously sensitive tits right there to play with and kiss. He played with 
them, panted against them, pulling the delicious nipples to sharper points 
and licking the satiny white flesh of her globes as he said, "I'd love to 
screw you. I'd do anything to screw you. Show me how, Auntie Liz. Please 
show me how." 

She hugged his hard young torso between her quivering soft thighs, wanting 
his prick in her so badly she could taste it, but resolved to hold back 
until she could possess every bit of him. "I'm not sure, Paul," she softly 
said. "I'm not sure it would be the right thing to do, and, well... . .." 

"There wouldn't be anything wrong with it, would there?" he said, looking 
anxiously up at her wantonly lovely face. 

"Not at the time, but you might think so afterwards. And ..." 

"Who cares about afterwards?" he said, and took his hand from her tit to 
reach for her twat. 

She accommodated him, opened her legs to let his eager hand slide down over 
the juice-slickened bulge of her nylon-covered cunt, shivered with 
anticipated pleasures and closed her legs on it. And she said, "You'd care 
afterward. That's what I'm afraid of. You might not like it, or . . ." 

"I would! I would!" he declared, clutching at that weirdly mushy flesh of 
her twat in a way that made her squirm, and that made him want still more of 
it. 

"... or you might not think it's nice," she continued, with admirable 
restraint "like you don't think sucking cock or eating pussy is nice." 

That brought him up short for a moment. His hands stopped their compulsive 
movements on her body and his only caress came from his warm breath for a 
time before he said, "But screwing's different than ... than using your 
mouth. Isn't it?" 

He looked up at her to ask this question and she took the opportunity to 
merge her mouth with his in a long, sensuous kiss that surely gave him more 
to think about. His eager trembling was a delight to her as she moved her 
clinging lips from his and said, "Both fucking and sucking are just awfully 
good. At least for most people...." 

Paul buried his face against her tits and hugged her, trembling, beardless 
cheek pressed against her damp warm naked flesh. She petted his head, told 
him not to worry, that he had plenty of time left for fucking and even for 
sucking if the right girl ever came along. He felt like such a child, then 
even more like a child when his voice came out all squeaky as he said, "I'd 
do it. I'd let you do it. W-With your m-mouth, I mean." 

She rubbed his head and hugged him, reminding him for a dreadful moment of 
his mother, and she said, "Plenty of time for that later, when you're really 
ready. Tsk. What a mess we've made in this bathroom, and you've got me 
feeling too relaxed and sexy to clean it up. Be a dear and mop up with those 
towels, will you?" 

"Sure!" Anything to please her and to postpone the dirty talk about eating 
it now that he'd stated that he'd stand still for letting her do it to him. 
He exchanged another kiss with her and left the warmth of her encompassing 
thighs, grabbed a towel and began to swab up the puddled tile floor. 

On his hands and knees, his tremendously hard prick bobbed about under his 
belly and his balls and asshole felt uncomfortably vulnerable. He knew very 
well his Aunt Liz couldn't see his privates and that his mother would be at 
work till noon, a couple of more hours, and thus couldn't come busting in 
and finding them like this. Still he'd never felt more naked in his life as 
he crawled around at his aunt's feet, sponging up the water and wringing it 
into the bath tub. 

Of course he looked up at her while he worked. Who could resist looking at 
the most beautiful woman in the whole world, very nearly naked, and not a 
bit modest about her glorious nudity and smiling down on him as he did her 
bidding. She was all sprawled back on the toilet as before, legs open and 
out, make-up smeared, tits hanging, but looking incredibly lovely now. Her 
hands helped her erotic beauty, moving lazily over the body he'd been 
privileged to touch, to kiss, reminding him of every sensory pleasure he'd 
been lucky enough to experience with her. He could hardly pay attention to 
what he was doing as he watched those hands heft and caress the tits he'd 
come to love, move over that femininely bulging tummy, and sensuously stroke 
the big broad pussy that he had brought to a climax with his passionate 
kisses on her tits. He watched her hands, heard her voice, and fell deeper 
and deeper in love with her. 

"It's going to be a lucky girl who gets you, Paul. You'll be just screwing 
her silly all the time. Night times you'll be sleeping together with nothing 
i between you but a bit of lace, and you'll do it to her, oh yes, you'll do 
it to her. And you're such a titty lover that I'm sure you won't be able to 
get to sleep without having a nice hard nipple in your pretty mouth. You'll 
wake up every morning with a big fat hard-on. Oh, your cock will grow so 
big! And before you even get up to take a piss you'll have to fuck your wife 
till the cum juice is running down her pretty legs. Be sure you marry a gal 
who's a hot one, like me, so you can get all you want of it right from the 
start. Don't marry a girl like your mother, pretty though she might be, 
because it might take years before you can get her to open up and admit she 
likes fucking and sucking as much as you do. And believe me, you'll like 
having your cock sucked and you'll like eating hot pussy by the time you're 
a grown boy." 

He looked straight at her pussy, saw fat fat lips clearly outlined through 
slick wet nylon, and felt only a little of the nausea he'd experienced 
before. 

She saw his look and liked it, and she toyed her fingers back and forth 
under her panties' elastic waistband, ever deeper in the thin, clinging 
garment as she said, "Yes, you'll be a regular satyr, a real pussy-hound 
when you grow up. You'll be like your aunt, not like your mother." She 
sighed, hand deep in her panties, fingers brushing matted black hair, and 
continued, "I doubt if your mother ever had a really good time with sex. It 
was partly your father's fault--rest his soul--but really, your mother never 
truly did get off to a good start when it came to boys. She was always too 
afraid. I don't know why. And then of course she was always the real beauty 
in the family, slim and pretty and with those great tits of hers, while I 
was the hell-raising fatty. She had real dates to proms and things; I got 
asked out to drive-in movies, knowing damned good and well the guy just 
wanted to get in my pants." Liz got deeper inside her own pants, fingering 
her outrageously puffed and slickened cunt lips, smiling at the sensation as 
much as at the awed reaction of her fumbling nephew at her feet. He was 
wearing a circle in the tile with the towel, so caught up was he with the 
scarcely veiled movements of her hand inside her panties. 

"Who's to say which of us went the right way," she went on, Helen with her 
one marriage to an older man or me with my three marriages to rounders. Her 
with her nice little home and business and handsome son, or me with my 
kicking around and wild times. I don't know, but I wouldn't change it," she 
said, pulling softly at her fully distended clitoris, all hot and slick, and 
smiling in genuine reminiscence of good times past. 

"But we've each chosen our way and we're not going to change. But you, 
you're whole life is ahead of you, and my best advice is to get yourself a 
gal with really hot pants and settle down with her, and for good measure 
find yourself a job where there's an older woman with REALLY hot ts you can 
get into as well. Wake up every morning and fuck your darling wife good and 
proper, drive to work, call in your secretary and say, 'Mrs. Murgatroyd, get 
your pants off and your ass up on that desk right now, before I fire you.' 
Naturally, she won't be wearing any pants and she'll jump right up there and 
ah-h-h-h .. ." Liz closed her eyes while she twiddled her clit, treating 
herself to a nice little orgasm before she went on. ".. .ah-h-h-hh, you'll 
eat hot horny pussy till you have Mrs. Murgatroyd screaming and creaming all 
over the carpet, then you'll shove eight inches of hard meat into her and be 
ready for the day. 

"You'll do your work fast and at lunch you'll go to a place where they have 
cold cocktails, dim lights, and hot waitresses. You'll tongue-fuck one of 
those waitresses after lunch, a cute little trick who looks a lot like that 
Joey Heatherton, and when you get back to your office with that big stiff 
dick of yours, you'll call in Mrs. Murgatroyd and say, 'Suck that cock till 
the cream bubbles out the corners of your mouth,' and she'll do it cause she 
loves her job and she loves hot cock. Damn!" said Liz, squeezing her leaking 
cunt harder and shifting the big loaves of her butts on the toilet seat. 
"I'm getting myself all hot and bothered. I better knock this off. I better 
quit this and go out and find me somebody with a tongue that's as stiff as 
your dick and a dick that's as big as your arm. Whew! You got me really hot, 
Paulie, the way you look at me like that." 

"Don't go," he said, close to whining, hand leaving the wet towel to go to 
her soft, cool foot. "Don't go 'way." 

She leaned forward on her throne, tits swinging out at him, sinfully 
beautiful face looming closer. "But darling, I have to. I'm feeling so ... 
so sexy." 

"But you don't have to go," he murmured, sliding closer over the cold tile, 
running a hand up her warm ankle and soft calf. He didn't care that his 
prick was in her view now, for it would always be hard in her presence. And 
he found it to be the easiest thing in the world to press a warm kiss 
against her knee to aid in his pleas. "Don't go. I'll... do what you want." 

Liz's palms whispered over her big, soft, parted thighs as she gently said, 
"Do you know what I want?" 

He swallowed hard and nodded, looking straight ahead between her heavily 
sculptured, pure white legs to the big darkened bulge of her crotch, and he 
croaked, "Eat it. You want me to ... kiss it." 

She squirmed it about before his glazed over eyes. She moved her bare foot 
till it was between his legs, gently nestled against his tight little nuts 
and his hard little pecker. And she gently said, "Kiss what, Paulie?" 

Through clenched teeth, he said, "Kiss your ... t-twat. You want me to kiss 
your twat," said he, getting ever closer to it, into that oddly compelling 
stink of it, and starting to believe he really might be doing it soon. 

Liz curled a finger in his hair and purred, "But what is it YOU want to do, 
darling?" 

"Dam it, I wanna kiss your twat!" he cried, and lunged forward at it, 
pressing an angry mouth against the source of all that funkiness and wetness 
and softness and real, living sexiness. 

It jiggled through the tight nylon as she giggled and said, "Couldn't wait 
any longer for it, could you? Once you're past the smell, they say, you've 
got it licked," she went on, and even as the coarseness of her remark dawned 
upon him he kept right on kissing and mugging the bulging white slickness. 
Down on his hands and knees like a dog he was kissing it, knowing that if he 
did it good enough he'd get to screw it, but doing it just as good as he 
could for some other wild reason beyond that. 

"Oooo-o-o-o," she said, squirming it for him and closing cushiony soft 
thighs on his cheeks. "With a little practice you're going to be as good a 
cunt-lapper as you are a tit-sucker. You like it already, don't you? You 
like the smell and the taste and the feel of a big hot juicy cunt against 
your mouth." 

He looked up at her, rolled his eyes past her pendant, looming tits and 
solemnly nodded his head. She jiggled her twat again with another 
irritatingly girlish giggle and squeezed his cheeks harder with her silken 
inner thighs, and he savagely pushed them apart, the better to pelt the 
saturated crotchband of her panties with ferociously impassioned kisses. He 
was doing it, eating it, and it wasn't so bad at all! 

"Oh, wait, honey," she said. "Oh God damn!" she exclaimed, and grabbed a 
handful of his hair. "Right there," she said, infusing him anew with her 
suddenly rising excitement. "Hold your pretty mouth right there and suck, 
lover. Oh, shit! Yeah, Paulie, yeah! Feel that big bump through my panties? 
Suck it, baby, suck it, oh, ah-h-h-h-h!" she moaned, in a thrilling fashion, 
as he ardently sucked on that nylon-clad bump, sucking in the liquid essence 
of her sex scent and swallowing it as fast as he could, so fucking excited 
by it all that he didn't know if he was cumming or not. 

"That's my clit, my love-bump, my chili-pepper, and oh-h-h-h, it drives me 
nuts when you suck it and lick it and screw it and JUST TOUCH IT! Oh, SUCK 
IT!" she cried, thrashing about on the John and knocking things off the back 
of the commode, frightening Paul a little now, though not so much that he 
quit on his heavy cunt-sucking. He didn't care. He licked it and lapped it 
too, not giving one good God damn if he was dooming himself to a life as a 
cunt-sucker, not caring about anything at all in the real world he'd left 
behind him. 

She was huffing and puffing like a steam engine churning about and throwing 
her tits all around. It didn't quit when he paused to catch his breath and 
substituted his fingers for his mouth. He wondered if all women came like 
this, decided that there just wasn't another woman in the world like his 
Aunt Liz, and bent to press his wet mouth against her far wetter cunt again. 
She uttered another soul-inspiring moan and pulled his mouth harder against 
her, gasping, "One more time. Make me pop my cookies one more time and then 
we'll get rid of these fucking pants and do it right. Oh-h-h-h-h,BABY!!!" 

Her pants off? ! ? That was a different thing. All that hair he'd seen 
through them? Touching his mouth to the bare flesh that secreted that slick 
wetness? And what about germs? And--Jeezus-Peezus--what about the men's 
pricks that had certainly been inside the hole in her cunt at one time or 
another? Though Paul's prick remained as hard as could be, his enthusiasm 
waned. 

She didn't notice it, cumming again as she was. Again? How many times had 
she done it, with him down on the floor like a dumb dog, patiently waiting 
to screw her but having to do this awful thing first. Of course, it wasn't 
so awful through her panties, no not so awful at all, but the very idea of 
all that very weird female flesh squirming and writhing under his naked 
mouth had him back to those feelings of nausea again. But what could he do? 
Politely excuse himself and leave? Feign a heart attack? Simply tell her 
that the thought of kissing her naked cunt turned his stomach? It was so 
hard to think when his brain and in fact his whole body was under the 
influence of that insidiously exciting cunt-perfume of hers, but 
nevertheless he came up with a quick solution. Just when she'd passed 
another great peak in her thrashings and was frantically pushing down her 
panties, young Paul jumped up with his prick waving in front of her face and 
said, "Do it to me now, do it to me!" 

"Oh! Aunt Liz!" He was astonished at how quick she gobbled it up, and 
stunned at how good it felt for his prick to be inside her sucking mouth. 
"Oh, I never thought it would feel so good!" he said, and grasped her curly, 
bobbing head in his hands and humped his hips forward to drive his cock 
still deeper in her wetly sucking mouth. 

Liz had had every intent of giving her nephew Paul a full course of hot wet 
pussy, but the introduction of his cock to her mouth had sidetracked that 
intent. Jesus, he was delicious! His steely hardness was delightful, his 
diminutive size wholly intriguing, but it was the subtle flavor of the boy's 
prick that had the veteran cocksucker's senses reeling. She slipped off the 
toilet seat to her knees on the floor to get more of him holding him round 
the waist as if he might try to get away, and purring loudly as she sucked 
him off from the tip of his drooling pecker to the hairless base of it. Not 
for years had she tasted a cock so sweet, so exciting, and she hugged him to 
her and dug her taloned fingers in his buttocks in an effort to share her 
excitement even more with her. Her pussy was still raging, on fire, wanting 
to burst through her encumbering panties, but nothing was more important now 
than devouring every part of this delicious little boy that she possibly 
could. 

"Oh, Auntie Liz!!! Oh, Jeez!" he exclaimed, twitching and jerking all about 
in her embrace while sensation mounted upon spectacular sensation. 

"Mmf! Gimme! Ah! More!" she replied, quitting his throbbing hard prick for 
the moment to bury her mouth in his loins, then ducking down her head to 
suck every bit of his balls in her mouth and swirl her hot tongue over their 
wrinkled sac. 

"Wait! Stop!" he cried. "Stop or I'm gonna cum in your hair!" 

"In my fucking mouth or not at all," she said, and captured his rigid pecker 
again, just as it gave its first mighty throb and spurt. 

That first spurt of jism was so strong it went right down her throat. She 
smelled it in her sinuses more than she tasted it, but then there was the 
second one to savor fully as it shot and rolled across her tongue and 
palate, while the boy leaped and bounced and squealed and kept on cumming 
for her. 

It tasted so good she felt like laughing, and this she did, drawing back her 
tousled head to catch another hot jet of jism in her mouth, then sucking in 
the whole length of his cock again to coax more out of it. He was cumming 
very good. She was getting almost as much pleasure out of it than when she'd 
been cumming, just seconds before, and she lusted to extend that pleasure 
for both of them. And she knew how. 

Paul felt he might never stop cumming. Even through his wild, wild ecstasies 
he had the fleeting fear that her sucking mouth might drain him dry, or at 
least suck out several months' worth of jism from him before she'd had 
enough. It was getting almost painful, still wonderful beyond words, but 
almost painful, when he was suddenly whirled about and pushed over the sink 
to experience something wholly unbelievable. 

"NO! YOU SHOULDN'T DO THAT! WAIT-T-T-T-T!!!" he cried, but his tight little 
buns were already widely spread and the incredibly huge intrusion of 
something that had to be her tongue was up his ass. He struggled without any 
strength in his body, pleading for her to stop, and he kept cumming and 
cumming and cumming, even though no more jism was spurting from his prick. 

Liz laughed at his protests and went on rimming him. His asshole was almost 
as sweet as his prick had been, and at this point in the game, far more 
receptive to her tongueings, despite his protests. 

Her blood-red claws held his jerking buttocks wide open, stretching his pink 
asshole to the utmost for her pink pointed tongue. The base of his prick was 
against the edge of the sink, and Liz could easily reach his hot little nuts 
in their tight little sac, kissing and sucking them before she went back to 
his inspirationally tight asshole. A fever heat was upon her. She held him 
right where he was, bent double over the sink, while she gnawed on the 
tender flesh of his ass and sucked on his empty nuts and stuck her tongue up 
his spasming butthole. Never in her life had she been so needful of having a 
cock between her legs instead of a pussy, but then as she redoubled her 
efforts to butt-fuck him with her tongue, his squeals and wails reached a 
crescendo and he went suddenly limp over the sink. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

"Too much," Liz muttered, panting. "I gave him too much too soon, damn me." 
She kissed his darling little butt again and, draped over the sink, he 
didn't stir. She heaved a sigh, rested for a few moments while cursing 
herself for getting carried away, then rose heavily to her feet to make the 
best of things. 

Supported by her strong arm around his waist, Paul was stumbled along to his 
room muttering, "I'm sorry. Can't walk good." 

"Never mind. Everything's fine." Liz laid him down on his bed and he fell to 
snoring right away. Hands on hips, she looked down on his naked, supine form 
and shook her head. His little prick was still partially hard. He was 
angelically beautiful and he was still so extremely innocent that she had to 
wonder if she was doing the right thing. Perhaps he'd be better off without 
her and her lusty appetites and her very worldly ways. Perhaps she should 
quit at this point and rely on the resiliency of youth to make him think of 
what had happened so far between them as some sort of wet dream. On the 
other hand, there was no sense at all in denying him his education and in 
denying herself the pleasure of his sexual tutelage. Liz smiled and kissed 
him, gave his prick a little suck, and went to her baggage to soothe her 
tensed nerves. 

Liz slept on the convertible sofa in the living room, but her luggage was in 
her sister Helen's bedroom. It was a nice bedroom, frilly and lacy, more 
girlish than womanly. There was a ruffle-trimmed vanity table with a mirror 
in one comer of the room, well stocked with the beauty aids that Helen used 
at her successful little beauty salon, and with a white fur-covered bench 
before it. Flowered wallpaper and heavy brocade drapes and prints of English 
countryside paintings lined the walls. The queen-sized bed was covered with 
a flowered spread and furnished with nightstands, a reading lamp, and an 
array of gothic romance novels in the shelved headboard. The ornate chest of 
drawers which Liz had previously investigated contained lingerie and 
clothing that was just as comfortably sterile as the bedroom was. All in 
all, it was a very far cry from the bedrooms Liz had occupied, from sleazy 
motels to sybaritic apartments. It reflected Helen's whole, orderly way of 
life, and Liz found it to be both comical and irritating. She stripped off 
her wet panties and went straight to her bags. 

There were two of them, a large, handsome suitcase she'd bought for the trip 
with nearly the last of her funds, and a somewhat battered, somewhat 
oversized attache' case. She took a key from her purse, and with shaking 
hands unlocked the attache' case to take from it her battery-operated 
vibrator-dildo, white plastic, ten inches long. She held its tapered end 
against her lips as she crouched on the pink shag rug, twisted the control 
knob and smiled at the comforting, purring buzz of the device which had 
given her and others such pleasures and satisfactions. 

Still squatting there, she kissed it and briefly sucked its smoothly tapered 
end, ran it through the warm hollows of her throat and on down over her tits 
to rekindle the flames that had been burning so brightly in the bathroom. It 
didn't take long at all. By the time she reached her navel with it, her 
pussy was drooling for it, almost screaming for it, and now she spread her 
matted black hair and her luxuriantly fleshy cunt-lips and slid it far up in 
her vagina. 

"Ah-h-h-h-h." She clamped down hard on it with well exercised cuntal muscles 
and watched with an interest that had never failed her yet as her shapely 
hand pushed it in and out of her twat. "Mm-m-m-m-m," she purred, head 
swimming with delight, further warmed by the sure knowledge that this was 
one thing from her attache' case of tricks that had never failed her. "Uh! 
Uh! Uh!" she grunted, up on her widespread knees, tits bouncing and buttocks 
jerking forward to meet the good stiff thrusts of her dildo, already cumming 
almost as well as she could with a man. After her morning of instruction 
with her teenaged nephew, it took a whole series of orgasm to tranquilize 
her, and by the time she felt she'd gotten real satisfaction, Liz had rolled 
all about on the bedroom floor, fucking herself with her dildo till her hair 
was a rat's nest and her body was bathed in sweat and her breath was coming 
in ragged pants. Then she stretched luxuriously on the floor, enjoying those 
little aftershocks of orgasm still being brought on by the faithfully 
buzzing vibrator. She felt warm and full and pleasantly sleepy when she rose 
at last from the floor and withdrew the dildo from her well-pleased cunt. 
She carefully cleaned it in Helen's bathroom and locked it away in her 
attache' case, then enjoyed a cool, refreshing shower with plenty of scented 
soap. 

She sat before Helen's vanity mirror, frankly admiring her naked beauty, as 
she brushed out her lustrous black curls. There wasn't a gray hair among 
them, and this she attributed to her active and open sex life. Though she 
was fifteen pounds overweight, her figure was magnificent and her complexion 
so flawless that she could easily pass for ten years younger than she was. 
All in all Liz was quite content with her physical self, though not so 
content with her current financial status, and this was the primary reason 
she was staying with the younger sister whom she hadn't seen in years and 
with whom she hadn't gotten on well for even longer years. So far it seemed 
as if Liz had made the right decision in coming here, and as she helped 
herself to Helen's perfumes and cosmetics she made more plans for ensuring 
that her stay would be an interesting one and, if she chose, a longer one. 
She applied a last dab of lipstick and blew herself a kiss in the mirror as 
she ran appreciative hands over her lightly powdered voluptuousness, then 
rose to dress herself appropriately for the afternoon. 

Helen was due back from her shop at about twelve-thirty. She was only 
working half days during her sister's two week visit. It was just after, 
noon when Liz entered Paul's room with a tray of sandwiches and milk to find 
him exactly as she'd left him, sleeping the sleep of youthful exhaustion. 
She set down the tray on his nightstand, sat beside him on the bed, and had 
to shake him quite hard to wake him up. 

Paul was disoriented on awakening, then smitten with awe by the fresh, 
stunning beauty by his side, right on his bed with him. His Aunt Liz's smile 
was calmly radiant, her features clear and smooth, her raven hair lustrously 
flowing. She had on a lime green halter, heavily filled with proud tits, 
skimpy enough to show much of the deep cleavage between them, and a matching 
skirt. The skirt was of the wraparound variety. Though it came to mid-thigh, 
her position on his bed had opened it so that he could see that she was 
wearing bright pink panties under it. Sandals and bright plastic jewelry 
completed her ensemble. She was strikingly lovely in every respect, but his 
gaze was drawn to those lovely big tits he'd touched and even kissed, and 
although he was confused and still plagued with guilt, his pecker was waking 
up along with him. He reached for the covers to hide his quickly growing 
erection and his smiling aunt took the bedspread from his hand and said, "No 
need to be so modest. Not with me. I brought you some sandwiches. You'd 
better eat and dress. Your mother will be home soon." 

The boy sat up in bed to wolf down what she'd brought him. His hard white 
prick was embarrassingly upright, its pink head thrusting up through its 
foreskin as if trying to share in the view that Paul's eyes could not stop 
looking at. And as Paul ate, Liz chatted on, saying, "What fun we had this 
morning, and it's all our little secret. Your mother just wouldn't 
understand, poor dear. She's a terrifically good-looking woman, beautiful 
really if she'd only wear some more attractive clothes. She could have any 
man she wanted and enjoy him too, if only she'd get over her silly 
inhibitions and let herself go as I do. And as you'll be doing I'm sure. 
She's got lovely titties, don't you think, Paul? And those long, slim legs . 
. . mmm, how I'd love to feel them wrapped around me if I was a man. Nice 
slim hips and a gorgeous round fanny, even though she does try to keep it 
from switching and wiggling when she walks. With a figure like hers, those 
girdles she wears are ridiculous. I've always thought she had lovely eyes, 
and her nose was so pretty and those lips of hers, ah-h-h-h, just made to be 
kissed, or to be wrapped all around a pretty little cock like this one," she 
said, and took Paul's in her hand. 

"She wouldn't do anything like that," he angrily said, and tried to pull 
away from her, rather half-heartedly. 

She stroked him to calmness and said, "Yes, that's part of her problem and 
it's a shame. Past thirty years old and she still hadn't learned the 
pleasures of sex. I know. We talked about it over a few too many glasses of 
wine on Saturday night. But it's not too late for her. Oh, no. All she needs 
is some handsome young man who knows something about sex and who isn't 
afraid to show her what he knows in spite of how much she might protest. 
She'd be grateful to him forever," said Liz, and paused to let Paul mull 
this over. 

Then she sighed and said, "But she'll probably go on just as she is, without 
any real joy in life, growing old before her time and then living out her 
days in a rest home while she wonders how it was that life seemed to pass 
her by." 

She had Paul to the point of tears, better than she'd expected, and she let 
him linger there for a while by himself before slipping an arm about him and 
saying, "Darling, don't feel badly. I'm just being pessimistic. I'm sure 
some passionate young man who loves Helen will come along one of these days 
and show her all she's missing in life. 

"That's the sound of her car, isn't it? Look, here she comes in the drive 
way," said Liz, and leaned across him as both looked out his curtained 
bedroom window. "Sit still," she said, soothing him there with a hand on his 
prick and another on his bare back. "She's got groceries to get out. Mmm, 
look at the backs of her legs. Just perfect in her panty-hose. I'm glad she 
wears short skirts. If I were a man I'd start at her ankles arid nibble my 
way clear up those lovely long legs, so smooth and soft, till I was kissing 
that sweet little fanny and nuzzling all around in her blonde-haired twat 
and making her feel so good she'd be squirming all around and begging for 
more and cumming like .. ." 

"UR-R-R-R-R-GGH!" said Paul, as his aunt's hand started pumping yet another 
series of jism-jets from his prick, and as his eyes devoured the wholly 
erotic contours of his mother's stiff but gracefully slim body. For those 
few moments Paul had his face up under his mother's skirt, gnawing and 
nibbling and sucking and kissing her private parts even as his aunt had done 
to him, and for those few moments he could almost hear and feel the 
reactions from the woman he loved and feared most in the whole world. But 
when the moments passed, and when his mother was striding toward the house 
with her double armload of groceries, Paul came awake to reality, to the 
oozing prick between his legs and the jism-spattered covers of his bed and 
to his aunt drawing away from him, and he yelped and grabbed at his clothes 
and darted toward the bathroom. 

Helen was still fumbling with the groceries and the key to the front door 
when Liz opened it for her. It had been a busy morning at her shop and she 
hadn't really wanted to leave it in honor of a sister with a 
not-too-honorable reputation, but she managed a smiling thank you and let 
Liz take some of the groceries. Together they put them away, with Liz 
prattling about what an idle, relaxing morning she'd had. This added to 
Helen's irritation as much as the heat of the day did, and her voice was 
snappish as she said, "Where's Paul? What's he been doing all morning?" 

"He took off early. Said something about going swimming. I think he's in the 
John now." 

Helen wanted to tell Liz they had bathrooms in her house, not Johns, but 
instead she said, "PAUL!" 

He came scampering in, freshly showered, wearing only his cut-offs, looking 
anxious. He hung poised by the refrigerator while his mother glared at him 
for a long moment before she said, "So you went swimming, did you, instead 
of mowing the lawn as I told you. Isn't that nice. I worked hard all 
morning, to feed you, to clothe you, to put a roof over our heads and to 
provide for your education, and you went swimming. How very nice." 

Paul squirmed miserably and Liz said, "Helen, it's a hot day and Paul's on 
vacation from school and I'm sure the lawn will wait for another ..." 

"Please, Liz," said Helen, directing her glare at her older sister for a 
moment. "You have your life and I have mine, and Paul is a part of my life 
until he is a legal adult. I would appreciate your not interfering with his 
upbringing." She turned back to her son, stiff-backed, stern-faced. "Get me 
a coat hanger," she said. 

"Aw, Mom!" 

"Obey me!" she spat, and he screwed up his face and left the room. 

"Helen!" said Liz. "You don't mean to whip him? ! ?" 

"I am raising my child as I see fit. Please do not interfere." 

"But..." 

"Silence! Children need punishment! Paul needs this!" 

Helen's blue eyes were blazing and there were wide circles of red on her 
cheeks. She was tensed, almost shaking, and Liz prudently backed away from 
the confrontation. Best to observe now, and act later, she decided. 

Paul came back, flushed and dejected, bearing a wooden coat hanger. He 
handed it to his haughtily glaring mother, gave his aunt a look of stoic 
determination, and turned his back on the pair of them. He placed his hands 
on his knees and hung his head. By then Helen was so wrought up that her 
teeth chattered, and she nervously flicked the coat hanger against her 
nyloned leg. "Since you obviously don't approve of corporal punishment," she 
said to Liz, "perhaps you'd better leave us alone." 

Liz came closer to her younger sister, slipped an arm about her long slim 
waist and kissed her cheek. She could almost smell the excitement emanating 
from Helen as she said, "I've never raised a boy. I'd like to see how it's 
done. Ill not interfere." 

Helen's teeth chattered again, and she said, "First I've got to see that he 
hasn't tried to trick me again." She placed a twitchy hand on Paul's 
upturned rump and felt of it. "Once before a spanking he padded his rear end 
with newspaper. He really got it when I found out what he. was up to." 

Liz had never been turned on by spankings before, but she was ever ready to 
learn something new. Still with her hand on Helen's rigid waist, she placed 
her other hand on Paul's ass. It felt even hotter than when she'd been 
kissing it. "Doesn't feel like anything's under his shorts this time. How 
many swats do you usually give him?" 

"For this offense, half a dozen," said Helen, obviously very eager to begin. 

Liz felt of the bare flesh below the frayed leg holes of his shorts and 
said, "I suppose it would really hurt if you caught him down here with that 
hanger." 

Helen licked lips that were very dry, staring hard at her son, and said, 
"Yes. I suppose it would." 

"Remember how Dad used to have us take our panties down to spank us? I sure 
do," said Liz, and ran her hand lower on her sister, and felt Helen's 
buttocks twitch even through her girdle. 

Helen was quite flushed and breathing hard. She chewed on her full underlip 
and nodded her lovely head while Paul remained motionless under the 
exploratory touchings of the two women's hands on his butt. "Paul," she 
said, and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Paul, unbutton your shorts and 
drop them to your knees." 

"Aw, Mom!" 

"Obey me!" she cried, going up on her toes in her excitement, and Liz 
slipped both arms about her in comforting fashion and kissed her hot cheek 
and felt the hard pounding in her chest. 

A grim-lipped Paul dropped his pants. A keenly interested Liz saw that, sure 
enough, he had a terrific little hard-on which his mother apparently didn't 
even see. Helen's staring eyes were focused on his clean white rump, and as 
he assumed the position with his hands on his knees again, she roughly 
elbowed Liz aside and swung the wooden coat hanger whack, whack, whack, 
whack, whack, crack! 

It broke in two on the last vicious blow, and 

Helen stood there panting hard and looking furiously at the remnant in her 
hand while six livid red stripes formed across Paul's bottom. Just as 
suddenly, Helen looked as if she might cry, and once again her elder sister 
hugged her and comforted her and said, "I'm sure you did the right thing, 
dear. Now it's over with, and I'm sure Paul will be a good boy." Helen 
smelled distinctly of orgasm, and her slender body had already grown 
perceptibly softer to the touch. She'd dropped the coat hanger and now Liz 
took her limp hand and placed it on Paul's reddened bottom, saying, "These 
welts will go away, but he won't forget this spanking. D'you think you 
should rub a little cold cream on his fanny, dear?" 

Liz heard Helen stifle a moan and felt her body begin to tense again. The 
blonde said, "I think I'd better ... take a shower and change." and she 
abruptly left them, walking with stiff little steps toward her bedroom. 

"Ill be right along," Liz called after her, and turned Paul about and kissed 
his tear-streaked cheeks, held them in her hands and voraciously sucked on 
his hot, soft mouth. 

She hugged him to her trembling body, murmuring, "That was awful what she 
did to you. You deserve much better things than that," she said, and slipped 
a stiff-nippled tit from her halter and fed it to his open, eager mouth. 
"Poor baby, getting his darling little fanny warmed for just forgetting to 
mow the lawn. She's the one who ought to be spanked. Poor Paul, I feel so 
sorry for you. And you've got another nasty old boner, but at least your 
Auntie Liz can do something about that." 

Liz's big nipple came from his mouth with an audible pop. She dropped to her 
knees and had his cock in her mouth before he could utter a protest. She 
sucked on it greedily, with no semblance of finesse, and her hands kneaded 
deeply at his sore buttocks while he stood swaying over her, moaning and 
almost sobbing, then clamping both hands on her head and pumping his hot 
little cock into her sucking mouth while his cock pumped marvelously copious 
quantities of his delectable young jism down her gullet. It was still oozing 
semen as she rose and released him, letting him fall back against the 
refrigerator door. "You'd better cut that grass now," she said, and hurried 
after her sister. 

Liz was too late. Helen's trail was clearly marked by her low-heeled white 
shoes in the hall, her nylon uniform dress just inside her bedroom door, her 
panty-hose, her bra, and then her rubberized girdle just outside the closed 
bathroom door. That door was locked. Liz tried it as she said, "Anything I 
can help you with, dear?" 

"No-no!" came Helen's anxious voice. Liz picked up the girdle and smelled of 
its crotch, heavy with the odor of orgasm, and said, "Paul's just fine now. 
My, you certainly did a job n that plump little ass of his. You really 
striped it with crimson, didn't you?" 

"Uh-huh." 

"I think a spanking on his bare butt does him much more good than one 
through his pants. Don't you?" 

"Uh . .. uh .. . uh-huh." 

"It probably woudn't hurt to spank him like at every day. But perhaps you 
should take his ants down for him. Make him stand there with his naked 
bottom sticking out while you lecture him on what he's done wrong. Use your 
hand to show him exactly where you're going to raise those red welts." 

"Uh-huh! Uh-huh!" 

"Then lay it on him! Use a coat hanger till it breaks, or a leather thong or 
a strap, or one of your hairbrushes or a belt that you've been wearing that 
day, something that'll really let him know who's the boss around here. 
Right?" 

"Uh-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!" said Helen from behind the locked door, then all was 
silence except for her wearily heavy breathing. 

Liz shook her smiling head and flopped down on Helen's bed. She took a 
paperback novel from the shelf and leafed through it, chuckling at the trash 
that her kinky sister read. The sound of the shower was soon heard, and Liz 
lay there idly looking at the books till at last Helen appeared again. Her 
eyes were downcast and she looked shame-faced. 

She had a towel turbanned around her hair and was clad in a short white 
terrycloth robe. She looked far more fetching than she realized, and Liz 
bounded up from the bed and intercepted her at the chest of drawers. 

"Sounds as if Paul's busy doing his chores. Come, dear. Let me fix you a 
cold drink and well relax in the back yard and watch that he does a good 
job." 

"I've got to get dressed," Helen murmured, and made a feeble effort to push 
the strong hand from her hip. 

"Nonsense. You look just fine. You've had a hard day. Now relax for a while. 
Let me take care of you. Big sister knows best," said Liz. Though Helen 
still protested, she was easy to lead along now. Trembling tense in the 
kitchen, her body was now as limp as soft butter under the skimpy robe as 
Liz bustled her down the hall, chatting away, fondly patting the ripe young 
mounds of her bottom. She leaned limply against the sink while Liz prepared 
to make a pair of Screwdrivers, but she was firm in saying she would have no 
vodka in her orange juice. Liz had a bit in hers, then guided her sister out 
on the shaded back porch and deposited her in one of the two deck chairs 
there. She settled down in the chair close beside her sister and laid a 
casual hand on her leg, which Helen just as casually removed. 

Paul was working hard in the long, hot back yard. A shower of cut grass 
cascaded over his bare feet as he pushed the old reel type mower through the 
grass. Liz sipped her drink and parted her shapely legs till she was sure he 
had a good view of the pink crotch of her panties, and remarked, "That hedge 
needs clipping, too." 

Head high, it ran all around the perimeter of the back yard. Helen said, "It 
takes him two or three days to do that. I'll have him start it in the 
morning." 

"And if he forgets," said Liz, and brought her hand down hard on Helen's 
thigh, "BANG, he'll have the reddest bottom on the block." Helen gave a 
start, then stirred restively as Liz moved her hand over her thigh, saying, 
"It wouldn't do him a bit of harm to pull down his pants and spank his bare 
bottom. Once a day, Helen, just like you said." Helen gulped her orange 
juice, staring ahead of her at her sweating, near-nude son, as Liz's hand 
roved at will over her slender silken thigh while she said, "A daily 
spanking might sting him now, but he'd be grateful later on. Unbutton his 
pants and pull them right down to his ankles. Tell him, show him exactly 
where you're going to apply the punishment, and then lay it on." 

As she said this last, Liz squeezed her sister's thigh deeply. Helen uttered 
a low moan, stirred in her chair till Liz was almost certain the laboring 
Paul had a dim view of her naked blonde twat, and drained her glass dry. 
Liz's hand brushed Helen's pubic hair as she rose, saying, "I'll refill that 
for you, dear." 

When she returned with vodka-laced orange juice, Helen was just as she'd 
left her, staring as if hypnotized by Paul's denim-covered buttocks as he 
pushed the old mower down the yard. She sipped automatically as Liz stood 
behind her, massaging her neck and shoulders, talking in a low voice about 
how their father had disciplined them and of how Paul might benefit from 
similar treatment. Her hands slipped lower and lower on Liz's chest as her 
chatter and the clatter of the lawn mower continued. As Paul pushed the 
mower toward them, his gaze flitted from that shadowy spot between his 
mother's legs up to his aunt's seductively smiling face. Pushing it away 
from them, Liz's hands slipped lower still, till they were cupping a pair of 
soft, generously full tits. Helen was breathing deeply, head leaned back 
against Liz's loins, sipping her drink in silence. Paul was almost done with 
the lawn when she'd finished that drink. 

"Another?" said Liz. 

"Huh? No, I. . . What I need is a nap," and rose unsteadily, with her robe 
falling open to reveal a delightfully girlish body behind those very womanly 
tits. Liz blew a kiss to Paul, slipped a hand round her sister's waist, and 
said, "I'll tuck you in." 

Helen collapsed on her bed immediately, and Liz drew the drapes till the 
room was quite dim, then sat down on the bed and spoke softly, as if to 
herself, as she roved a hand over Helen's lightly perspiring knee. "Asleep 
already. I'd forgotten how beautiful she was. Gorgeous tan, even in this 
light. I'll just pull this robe aside and, yes, she wears a two-piece swim 
suit when she sunbathes. Her breasts and her loins seem to glow in the dark 
from her tan lines. Soft, soft hair on her pussy. It feels so nice, and she 
looks so good. I recall how we used to play with each other in bed when we 
were little girls. She's not a little girl now, not with tits like these, so 
full and round and pointy. Hmm. She must be having a nice dream for her 
nipples to be this hard. I wonder if her pussy's just a little bit wet. Hmm. 
. . ." 

Helen stirred and sprawled out more on the bed. Liz had a good view of her 
slender body now, pale breasts flattened by their weight against her tanned 
torso, pale triangle at her loins disappearing down under that silky 
covering of blonde hair. "I hope she doesn't wake up for a while," Liz 
whispered, very lightly fondling her breasts. "She's far too beautiful for 
me to keep my hands to myself. Mm-m-m-m," she purred, moving her hand down 
over Helen's flat, palpitating tummy. "Nice and wet," she murmured, as her 
middle finger pushed softly through blonde hair to slip between two creamy 
slick cunt-lips. She giggled and said, "Her dream must be getting good now," 
and she started pulling and pushing at erectile and well-defined clitoris. 

"Nng-g-g-g. Oh-h-h-h." Soon Helen was moaning and actively thrashing in her 
poorly feigned sleep, while Liz continued to titter and talk and expertly 
manipulate her clitoris. She was tempted to go on and on, just to see how 
much her sister could take, but the clatter of the lawn mower outside still 
beckoned and so she brought Helen to a fine, churning orgasm, kissed her 
sweaty brow, and left her with a sleepy smile on her face. She licked her 
fingers on the way down the hall, found the taste of her sister's pussy not 
at all unpalatable, and hurried on toward her nephew. 

He was just finishing up, and he looked at her in a surly fashion as she 
paused in the shade of the porch to finish her drink. She laughed and said, 
"You look as if you could use a cool shower." 

He just glared at her and turned about to cut another swath through the 
lawn. He went clear to the end of the yard and back, still glaring, and when 
he was close to her again, Liz said, "Don't you want to come here in the 
shade and rest with me for a moment?" 

"I heard what you said. You told Mom she oughta spank me again tomorrow," he 
said, and wheeled about for another, next to last, swath through the grass. 
Liz waited till he was turning around again, then loosened the tie on her 
halter. His eyes bulged out at the bare bulging of her tits, and he broke 
into a run behind the old lawn mower. It terminated with him standing before 
her in the shade, grinning avariciously at her tits as his little hands 
reached out for them. 

She pushed them away, saying, "You're far too sweaty and dirty to touch my 
pretties. I'll need to wash you first. Fetch the hose." 

She stepped down from the porch, into the sun, as he hastily brought it. 
Water flooded around their bare feet as she calmly removed her halter, 
eliciting a gratifying sigh of longing from him. She unsnapped and unwrapped 
her skirt, and that joined her halter on the porch, leaving her clad in only 
bright pink panties, full cut, tightly fitting over the sweeping curves of 
her hips and the full mounds of her buttocks and the prominent bulge of her 
twat. Then as he gazed at her, panting, sighing, cut-offs a bulge, she took 
the hose from his hand and directed its steady stream over his head. 

Paul spluttered and spit as the water poured over him in torrents, but his 
gaze never left the vast nudity before him. He raised wet, tentative hands 
between them, and when she smiled and nodded he filled those hands with the 
full weighty warmth of her tits. She only gave him a little time to play 
with them, though, before she said, "Take off those shorts, Paul." 

He looked all around the back yard, eyes wide. "Here?" 

She nodded again and popped the first button. 

"You're not going to spank me again, are you?" said he, as he lowered his 
shorts to reveal his prick in its seemingly perennial state of hardness and 
stood naked before her. 

"Not now. You'll be in for some more spankings, I'm afraid, but in the end 
I'm sure it will all work out for the best for all of us. Now turn around 
and bend over with your legs wide apart." 

Again he did as he was told, but now he winced and grunted as the big stream 
of water was played up under his balls and through the crack of his ass. He 
grunted again when she tickled his tight little asshole with her finger, 
then arched back for more of it. "You're learning fast," she said, and knelt 
behind him and pushed her pointed tongue half an inch up his asshole, rimmed 
it around to make him sigh and squirm like a happy puppy. He tasted so fresh 
and clean that she wanted to go on--and on and on--but there'd be plenty of 
time for that later, when his sexual education was completed. 

She turned him around and gave his stiff prick a nice licking, took its hard 
length in her mouth briefly, looked up and said, "You don't mind having your 
cock sucked now, do you?" 

"I love it!" he said, fidgeting all around in his happy excitement, and 
trying to push it into her mouth again. 

But Liz rose to her feet, handed him the hose, and said, "Now you wash me." 

She turned her back on him, pushed the seat of her pink panties down over 
her expansive buttocks, and bent forward at the waist. "Just look at that!" 
the wholly admiring boy murmured, and ran a shaking wet hand over the big 
white roundness so conveniently presented to him. Liz swayed and shifted it 
for him, and said, "You're supposed to wash it, silly, not play with it." 

She squealed and giggled when the cold water flushed up against her deeply 
creviced asshole, and she reached back with both hands to spread her cheeks 
farther as the flood of water carried With it nice little orgasmic 
tinglings. She was half hoping he'd show some initiative and get down there 
with his tongue, but no, at this point in his education Paul still needed to 
be led every step of the way. 

Liz straightened up and snugged up her saturated panties.... He was 
positively beaming with his happy excitement as she faced him, smiling, took 
the hose from his hand and put its gushing mouth down inside the front panel 
of her panties. He laughed at the way the water made the thin fabric ripple 
and how it flowed out through the crotchband and leg holes, and Liz wriggled 
with the chilly good sensations it produced. Then, "Thirsty, dear?" she 
said. 

He stared down at where the water flowed. His smile faded, but he said, 
"Uh-huh." 

"Then drink," she said, and with a hand on his shoulder, helped him to his 
knees before her, where he turned up his handsome young face and let the 
water flow through her panties and into his open mouth. Liz smiled and 
scratched his wet head. Still he drank, as she loosened her bladder and let 
her piss mingle with the water running over his mouth and chin. 

When her bladder was empty, she cast the hose aside, and, easily holding him 
where he was, hooked a finger in the sodden crotchband and pulled it aside. 
"Touch my clit with your ton ... Oh! Oh, that's lovely!" she said, for 
already he had his sharply probing tongue where she wanted it and was 
lashing her chilled clitoris into full warmth and excitement. 

"Honey, that feels so good!" she said, pulling the crotchband farther and 
thrusting her fresh washed cunt at him, as he sucked and tongued with only 
the slightest sign of apprehension in his upturned eyes. "Just a little more 
and you can fuck me. Oh, ah-h-h-h-h," she sighed, strong buttocks and thighs 
jerking, lingering drops of pee flowing, while Liz experienced a delicious 
oral orgasm there in the sunny back yard of her sister's house. 

When she pulled him to his feet Paul was breathless with excitement. He 
asked through her enveloping kisses, "Can I fuck you now? Can I really?" 

"Of course you can, darling," said Liz, and taking his upright prick in 
hand, she guided its resiliency hard knob up against her crotchband. 

"Oh-h-h-h. Oh-h-h-h, it won't go inside that way," said Paul, jabbing up at 
her in a delightfully effective manner. "Isn't it supposed to go inside?" 

"Doesn't it feel good this way?" said she, taking a good pounding on her 
clitoris as he shoved his prick up at her, time and again, sliding his naked 
loins against her silky smooth thighs and rubbing his panting chest against 
her naked tits. 

"Yes! Oh-h-h-h-h, it's wonderful! I... I love you so!" 

"Yes, and you love your mother too," said Liz, cupping his cheeks in her 
hands and kissing him, while he. held her big ass cheeks in his hands and 
humped frenziedly at her. "And didn't she look lovely sitting in that chair 
while you were mowing the lawn? You could see her pussy, couldn't you?" 

"Oh-h-h-h-h. Oh-h-h-h-h," he moaned, face twisting in anguish that he felt 
through the giddy sensations of pushing prick against pussy. 

"Beautiful woman, your mother," Liz persisted. "Beautiful tits. Beautiful 
cunt. I touched it when I tucked her in bed, and it was so nice and wet and 
warm and..." 

"No!" he cried, and half-heartedly tried to pull away, but her strong hands 
and her soft lips and pussy kept him there where he was, driving up at her 
with thrilling vigor. 

"Yes I did, and she loved it. Mmm-m m m, how nice it would have been for her 
if you'd just dropped your lawn mower and crawled up on the back porch and 
put your head between her legs and sucked her nice warm cunt like you suck 
mine." 

"No-o-o-o. Ple-e-e-ease," he groaned, fucking at her more raggedly now, but 
no less vigorously. 

She laughed and kissed him and said, "And then gotten up on your knees and 
slipped that lovely cock of yours right up inside her tight, hot, wet cunt 
and pushed it in and pulled it out till your beautiful mother was cumming 
and cumming and cumming for you and you were squirting your good hot jism 
way up inside her twat while you man-handled her tits and kissed her pretty 
face and told her you were going to fuck her any time you wanted to, from 
then on, forever, FOREVER!" 

"Aaaaaaa-a-a-agh!" he groaned, body shuddering and twisting and arching 
against hers, prick squirting heavily up at her thinly covered cunt, jism 
drooling down her big, heavy thighs. "Oh-h-h-h-h," he moaned, as she hugged 
him and kissed him and came with him, and told him how much his beautiful 
mother would appreciate his prick in her cunt once she got over the fears 
that still troubled her. 

Liz went on a shopping trip by herself and cooked dinner that night. It was 
a sedate, almost formal family evening around the house, each one of the 
trio observing the other two with convert interest, and only Liz displaying 
a degree of cheerful confidence. They all went to bed early. 

CHAPTER SIX 

The smell of coffee wakened Liz in her living room bed and she sat up and 
stretched, feeling fully refreshed from a good night's sleep and knowing she 
looked as good as she felt. She called out a greeting toward the nearby 
kitchen, there was the sound of china falling to the floor, and Helen 
answered, "Oh, hi! Good morning." 

"Any coffee in bed for a lady on vacation?" said I Liz. 

"Sure. Just a minute. I just broke a cup." 

Liz used the time to plump the pillows up behind her, to fluff out her 
sleep-tousled hair, and to artfully arrange one of the thin shoulder straps 
of her skimpy yellow nightie so that one shoulder and most of one tit was 
completely bare and free. She was smiling warmly as her sister approached J 
the bed, bearing two cups of coffee on a tray. 

Though -Helen's face was made up in businesslike fashion, the cosmetics 
couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes, and in her working uniform 
she looked tense and brittle enough to break at a sharp touch. Liz patted 
the bed in welcoming fashion beside her, and Helen sat down and gave a sharp 
start when Liz's hand moved on to warmly rest on her knee. Helen had to hold 
her coffee cup with both hands as she drank. 

Liz said, "You look so nice this morning, so rested and ready for work. I'm 
sure you'll have a good day. Though an uncomfortable one, wearing a girdle," 
she said, and Helen almost spilled her coffee as Liz's hand slid up her 
nyloned leg to the tight rubber garment under her panty-hose. 

"Don't!" said Helen, and tried to push her hand away. 

"Silly, I just want to see what kind of girdle you wear," said Liz, 
fingering it, making her sister squirm and flush. "With such nice slim hips 
and such a pretty fanny, I don't understand why you bother with a girdle." 

"It's ... more professional." 

Liz sipped, fingered the thick undergarment, and said, "Have you thought 
about what you'll use to blister Paul's bottom this afternoon? A hairbrush 
or your open hand or a strap? Coat hangers break so easily." 

Helen tensed, squirmed, and said, "It probably won't be necessary. I'm sure 
he'll... do his work today." 

"A paddle would really smart," said Liz, squeezing Helen's quivering tight 
butt. 

"He promised he'd cut the hedge today. Promised faithfully." 

"I think a belt would do him the most good. A nice, thin, leather belt," 
said Liz, and made Helen jump by swatting her girdled bottom from under her 
uniform skirt. 

"I've got to go," Helen blurted, leaping up, spilling her coffee. "Can't be 
late. Have a good day. See you later. Have a good day." 

She slammed out of the house. Liz smiled and stretched and lit a cigarette, 
and before she'd taken her second drag on it, Paul showed his grinning face 
in the hallway. He was wearing white cotton pajamas whose bottoms bulged 
with his early morning erection as he came toward his aunt, hungry gaze 
fixed on her tits. "Hi, Paul," said his aunt, and straightened up her 
shoulder strap as he approached her bed. "Sleep well?" 

"Great!" he said, already reaching out for her as he sat on her bed. 

She held him off with a staying hand, and said, "I feel like a Bloody Mary 
to start the day. Make me one. Here's how." 

He listened, openly coveting her tits, all of her, while she told him the 
proportions. His prick was as hard as ever as he trudged to the kitchen. It 
would stay that way for a while for Helen to properly carry out her plans 
for the morning. 

The drink he fixed her wasn't bad. He gobbled donuts and drank milk and 
mooned over her voluptuous beauty while she sipped and chatted aimlessly, it 
seemed, but leading him ever closer to their activities for the morning 
hours of another good day of her vacation. She needed that drink to calm 
herself lest she get carried away by the things to come. As she drank it she 
teased Paul unmercifully, pecking his hot cheeks with kisses, touching his 
tensed body with tickling fingers, tittering girlishly. She had him in a 
fine state by the time she finished her drink. 

Liz made sure he caught a glimpse of her hairy twat as she threw back the 
covers and got out of bed. Resplendent in her long, diaphanous nightie, she 
allowed him to follow her swaying hips as she strolled down the hall toward 
the bathroom. He leaned on the doorjamb, looking sick with guilty desire, 
while she hiked up her nightie and sat on the toilet and noisily peed, 
reaching out as she did so to draw his stiff prick from his pajamas and 
tickle her fingers over its wetted pink end. He moved closer in hopes of 
having his prick sucked, but Liz rose and flushed the toilet, kissed him and 
entered the stall shower. 

Paul sat on the toilet and watched through the frosted glass while his aunt 
removed her long nightie and draped it over the shower door. He was just 
about to reach for a fistful of aching hard prick when she called out, 
"Fetch me my attache' case, will you? And no playing with yourself while I'm 
showering." 

He trudged out and returned with the heavy thing. By then he was so horny 
he'd have settled for one good clear look at her, but he kept faith that 
better than that would come if he was patient and he drove himself even 
crazier speculating just what might be in store for him on that day. She 
thanked him for the case, set it down on the edge of the tub and opened it, 
and his thinly covered ass twitched when she withdrew a heavy hair brush. 

She bade him sit down on the toilet. He did so, bent over a pecker that 
would surely never go soft again, and there he watched each tiny jiggling of 
her feminine softness while she brushed out her glossy black hair. She 
applied lipstick and perfume, further enhancing her beauty. He drank in the 
closeness of her as she hung a hot water bottle from her case on a hook on 
the door, and he took vague notice when she smeared the black device 
attached to the water bag with a gob of Vaseline from a large jar. He took 
greater interest when she filled the hot water bottle with water and added a 
few drops of pungent liquid from another bottle taken from her case. 

"Uh ... what's that?" he said. 

She smiled down on him. "For your enema, darling." 

"My ... 'enema'?" he said. "What's an 'enema', anyway?" 

She drew him up off the toilet seat. "You'll find out soon enough," she 
said, and took him in her arms and kissed him, hugged him, touched the 
beautiful youthful body through the thin white pajamas. He was kissing her 
back with eager ardor trying to touch her everywhere at once, trembling all 
over as his stiff little prick pushed hard agains her commodious cunt. And 
now Liz was trembling too, as she clasped this eager young innocence in her 
arms, and felt him so very ready to take whatever steps she directed toward 
the giddy world of forbidden pleasures that only she could show him. A 
motherly instinct in her made her want to hold him there and protect him, 
but the lusts were deeper in her and she eased him away from her and sat 
down on the toilet as if it were a throne. 

"Now lie down across my lap," she said, smiling and patting that inviting 
place, thinly draped in transparent yellow nylon. 

Giggling nervously, he lay down, sayin "What're you gonna do?" 

She pulled down the seat of his pajamas, baring those delicious little white 
buns, and said, "Give you your enema." 

He tensed, then relaxed, as she smeared Vaselin on the small, sweet, 
puckered ring of his anus. He grinned up at her from over his shoulder, but 
his grin faded when she picked up the long black plastic syringe, all 
covered with white grease, and he said, "Hey, what're you gonna do with 
THAT?" 

"I told you; it's for your enema," she said, and she had the small, bulbous 
knob of it inside his sphincter before he could do a thing. 

Prick driving against soft flesh, he began to struggle, crying, "Hey, not up 
my BUTT! What're you DOIN'? Auntie Liz, don't put that thing in ME! UH! 
OH-H-H-H-H-H! Ah-h-h-h-h," he moaned, as deeply tickling pleasure replaced 
the initial hard pain of the insertion of the stiff black wand. 

"Feel nice?" said Liz, working it in and out, stroking his buttocks and 
back. 

"Uh-h-h-h-h. Nn-n-n-n. Yeh. Not as nice as ... as when you . . . kiss me 
there, but . . . m-m-m-m-m ... feels nice." 

"And how does this feel?" she purred, and loosened the clip, and let the 
warm water flow. 

In moments he was breathing faster, trying to look around and saying in a 
panicked voice, "What're you doing? You're filling me up! Auntie Liz, I'm 
gonna ... oh! Oh! OH!" 

His belly was already drum-tight, and he could feel still more of it flowing 
into him. There was nothing he could do about it. His aunt's powerful hands 
were holding him down across her lap, but what held him down even more was 
the feeling of weak paralysis brought on by the deep water injection. 

When at last it stopped he was panting, straining, close to weeping in his 
efforts and in his humiliation. "Now hold it in," said his aunt, and as the 
greased syringe slowly withdrawn, he gasped loudly and could not hold back 
the tears. "Get up now, dear," he heard her say. "I can't, he moaned. "I 
can't even move!" 

"Up!" she said, and pushed him off her lap, made him stand on his own two 
feet, while he gasped and whined with effort in holding in that terrible 
alien pressure in his gut. 

"Sit here now, dear, and let it go," said the woman he'd loved, and regally 
arose from the toilet. He waddled over, collapsed upon it, and it all 
flooded out in a rush that brought with it all his copious tears. 

"Again," he heard her say through his sobbings, and against all his 
blubbering protests, he was laid across her lap for the second time, filled 
up to bursting with the cruelly hard syringe, and made to stand up in the 
close quarters of the bathroom. 

This time she brushed against him as she rose to make room for him. He 
hardly noticed it in his eagerness to take her place on the pot. And this 
time when it all flowed out of him he could sigh through his tears in the 
wonderful relief he felt to be rid of the liquid that came out in an almost 
sensuous torrent. He felt weary, lightheaded, when the woman towering at his 
side said, "Once again, Paulie." 

He almost wished, this time, that there was more of it. Just to show her he 
could take it. It entered him more slowly this time, and it followed a 
certainly deliberate insertion and re-insertion of the syringe, that part of 
the whole operation that had been easiest to get used to. He had smiled 
dreamily when she'd been doing that, harkening back to when she'd used her 
tongue that way, and that had helped make the flood of liquid easier to 
bear. The stink of crap was absent from the whole operation. That would have 
been just too much to handle. All he could smell was the additive she'd used 
in the water bag, and her perfume, and her. He writhed very softly on her 
lap as she filled him up and made comforting sounds, existing in an almost 
pleasant state of delirium now, and not even surprised that his prick was 
still hard against her soft, soft flesh. 

"The bag's empty, darling," she softly said, stroking him under his pajamas 
with those wonderful, soft hands of hers. "You took a lot this time. Can you 
get up by yourself?" 

"Sure," he grunted, the first intelligible word he'd uttered since it had 
started. 

She got up with him, and standing there in the bathroom she took his face in 
her hands and kissed every inch of it and told him what a good boy he was 
and let him feel of her lovely tits through her thin nightie. They felt as 
full as his belly as he stood there basking in her praise, holding it all in 
for her. 

"You're so pretty. And such a sexy little devil," she murmured, lancing a 
tongue in his ear running electrifying hands over him. 

"You're the one that's... pretty," he panted back through the perfumed silk 
of her hair. 

"You'd be prettier still without these on," she said, and pulled the 
drawstring of his pajamas, and down they fell to his ankles. 

She turned him to face the full length mirror on the bathroom door, and in 
his light-headed state of euphoria, he didn't know which was sexier to look 
at, the beautiful smiling woman at his side, so thinly clad, or her hand 
gliding over his bloated belly and stiffly upright prick. 

He gazed on, wholly fascinated, while the wonderful woman unbuttoned his 
pajama top and peeled it off to leave him naked as the day he was born and 
trembling with the pleasures of her closeness. His belly bulged over his 
hairless loins, making him look somehow childish, but he knew he had to be a 
man to have a woman like that interested in him. 

She laughed and said, "Even your nipples are hard, darling." She plucked at 
them with her fingers and nails, and he could feel the sensations rippling 
clear down to his toes. She bent and kissed his nipples, nipped the hard 
buds with her teeth while her silken hair flowed over his distended belly, 
and though nothing spurted from his fevered cock, he felt sure he was 
cumming. She was trembling, too, as she said, "Now undress me, Paul. 

I want to be all naked and sexy with you." 

She gave him little help in the removal of her nightie. He wanted none. 
Though his full belly and his tensed buttocks made his movements heavy and 
slow, he grasped the hem of her nightie and lifted it up, baring more and 
more of her vast naked beauty, and drew it on up over her arms till at last 
they were together naked, as it should be. And then she stood before the 
mirror, laughing as joyfully as he, as he hugged her to his naked body and 
felt of her everywhere he chose and ran his lips and cheeks over the warm 
velvet of her full, ripe curves. 

Now at last he had access to her pussy. The triangle of hair there was dark 
and thick but wonderfully soft, and he couldn't imagine why he'd been afraid 
of it before. He crouched to look at it closer as he ran his hand over the 
big bulge of softness, then under the kind guidance of her hands got down on 
one knee to see it closer still. He saw the fleshy lips that he'd blindly 
kissed and he felt them with his fingers while she made purring, chuckling 
sounds high above him and ran strong fingers through his hair. He turned his 
head and kissed through the deep fur and she went up on her toes 
andmurmured, "Mm-m-m-m," and planted her feet more widely apart on the tile 
floor. Thus encouraged, he slipped his arms about her heavy round hips, ran 
his hands over her quivering, wonderfully plump buttocks, and pushed his 
tongue through the creamy slick lips till he'd found her love bump, then 
pursed his lips and sucked on it warmly. 

"Darling!" she said, and pushed her hips forward to give him more of 
herself. "This was to be your time, but oh!, that feels so good! Just suck 
my clit a little more, honey. Oh! Oh, that feels marvelous! Paulie, oh my 
Paulie," she moaned, thrilling him to the core, then thrilling him more 
deeply still as she held strong fingers in his hair and pushed her big hot 
clit against his sucking mouth heavy, sensuous rhythm. 

She was cumming, he knew she was, and he had done it for her. His fingers 
dug deeper into her lush, firm buttocks and he sucked harder on her clit, 
getting wetter now and throbbing and still tasting of her shower, and he 
held all the stuff inside him while she let it all go. She wasn't even 
holding onto his head any more. Her heavily curved body was arched forward 
at him and in constant sensuous motion as she ran caressing hands up over 
her big soft belly and her ripely jiggling tits. Smiling in a wonderfully 
wicked way, she pinched and plucked at nipples that were standing out like 
thumbs, then stretched her lovely arms high over her head and moaned and 
purred, "Oh-h-h-h-h, God, you make me feel good all over. Ah-h-h, you're 
such a good boy with your hungry little mouth sucking on my cunt and your 
hard little prick itching to fuck me and your hot little hands all over my 
big ... fat... butt. Nn-n-h-h-h! Wonderful cum! Just the thing to get me 
started on a lovely long day of making you feel... good ... all... over! 
UNH!" she exclaimed, and hugged his head hard against her, mashed his mouth 
and teeth hard against her thrusting clit, and hauled him to his feet and 
hugged him and kissed him hard on the mouth while her glorious big body was 
still rippling and writhing with orgasms. 

Her embrace nearly forced the liquid out of his gut, but he somehow held it 
in. Now that she was doing things for him, he felt he could do anything for 
her. Every bit of his body felt as sensitized as the throbbing head of his 
dick as she laughed and eased him away from her naked softness and sat 
herself down on the toilet again. She wriggled her big bottom comfortably 
there, spread her knees wide and began to pee, and at the sound of her 
tinkling water he almost lost the stuff inside him. She reached out as she 
peed and cupped his drawn-up balls, making him gasp, and she drew him 
forward by them to touch her smiling lips to his prickhead and to blow on it 
with her warm breath and taste it with her pink tongue tip while he panted 
and trembled with steeply mounting excitement. He moaned when she sucked his 
dick in her mouth because he knew he couldn't hold in the water while she 
was sitting there pissing and at the same time sucking the jism out of his 
nuts. "Please! Please! Ple-e-e-ease!" he moaned, quite delirious now as she 
sucked him without letup and rolled his balls in her hand and caressed his 
buttocks that were already strained beyond endurance. If she'd given him the 
slightest indication that he could let it go, it would have rushed out of 
him all at once, but she just kept sucking his cock, laving it with her 
tongue, and she kept on till he'd groaned from deep in his gut at the 
painfully sweet feelings of his jism rushing out of him in giant spurts to 
be sucked up by the beautiful black-haired woman on the throne. "Ah-h-h-h-h! 
Oh-h-h-h!" His keening wails were similar to hers from moments before, and 
as his prick gushed and spurted in her mouth he relived all the beauty of 
her orgasm. It went on for a long, marvelous time, and he was still cumming 
when she took her sucking lips from his prick and had him take her place on 
the toilet. "Let it go now," she murmured, and as she kissed him with sticky 
lips his prick started jerking again and the heavy flow of liquid felt every 
bit as good as cumming. 

Paul was exhausted when she pulled him up from the pot. He could hardly 
move. She had to help hold him up as she toweled him dry, laughing gaily and 
kissing him warmly and promising more, much more. He didn't know if he could 
take any more, but he knew he had no choice but to try. He'd try till he 
died if that's what it took to be naked with her like this. 

"Let's go to bed, darling," she said then. "Just the three of us. You and me 
and an old friend." 

He looked stupidly around, "somebody else?" 

"Mm-hm." From her attache' case she took what looked like a very modem 
flashlight. She took Paul by the arm and led him toward his mother's big 
bed. Just the sight of it made him want to collapse and sleep for hours, but 
he knew that wasn't to be. 

She had him sit down on it with his knees drawn up and parted, with his 
little prick gone soft at last and drooped over his empty nuts. She was on 
her knees in front of him, smiling so warmly and looking so magnificent in 
her nudity that he felt all the more light-headed and giddy. "See how this 
works?" she said, and twisted the end of her flashlight thing and it made a 
barely audible buzzing sound. 

"It's called a personal massager," she said, and touched its other, tapered 
end to one of his nipples, making him give a start at the tickling sensation 
it produced and making him look down in wonder at it. 

"Feels good, no?" she said, laughing at his reactions as she drew patterns 
over his chest and belly with it, heavy tits swaying with her movements. 

"Actually it's an electric dildo," she said, and now she transferred its 
point to her own body, running it over her nipples while she cupped and 
hefted her big tits before his devouring eyes. 

"They're made to be used by lonely women who don't have any men around. But 
if you have a little imagination you don't have to be lonely to use it. And 
they can be used on men, too. Watch." 

Paul had started to close his legs. She pushed them open again and he held 
them that way while he watched her use the electric dildo on herself. She 
gave her tits a thorough massage with it, and her facial expressions alone 
were enough to tell him how good it felt to her, though that was visible 
enough by the turgid state of her nipples. It had them sticking out like 
thumbs and it had him licking his lips by the time she moved it on down to 
her belly button. 

"Oooo-o-o. I can feel it all the way inside me," she said, erect on her 
knees, undulating her torso like a belly dancer, and caressing herself with 
her free hand while she probed with the dildo in her navel. "But here's 
where it's best," she said in a throaty voice, and parting the fleshy lips 
of her hairy cunt with her fingers, she ran the buzzing thing through the 
wet pink trench of her cunt and sighed deeply. 

"Ah-h-h-h-h," she said, and as Paul goggled Liz eased it into her fuck-hole, 
more and more of it, till just a few inches were left in her hand and her 
hips were undulating as her belly had before. "Almost as good as fucking," 
she purred, working it in and out of her big cunt, pushing it back and forth 
over the thrusting bud of her clitoris. "Better in a way," she continued, " 
'cause it never goes soft." 

Paul glanced self-consciously down at his prick, embarrassed now that it 
wasn't hard for her. She looked too, reached forward and gave it a few 
pulls, then leaned back again to concentrate on her own pleasures as she 
said, "Play with it. Jerk yourself off. See if you can get it up for me." 

He began to rapidly flog it, amazed at himself. His jerking off was the 
biggest, most guilty aspect of his life, and here he was, doing it right in 
front of his aunt. He beat it and beat it, but nothing happened, not even 
with the help of the lewdly beautiful scene before him as his aunt fucked 
herself with the dildo and postured with inspirationally erotic movements. 

"Um-m-m-m. I could sure cum now," said she, "but I'm saving that for my 
handsome young boy friend. Here. You take it for a while. See if it helps 
you," she said, and shivered warmly as she withdrew the gleaming wet dildo 
from between the pouting lips of her cunt. 

"Hold your legs open wide, honey." He did, and she placed the tapered knob 
of it against his tight little asshole, and he blushed beet-red as she 
pushed an inch of it inside him. She laughed and leaned back, letting the 
thing rest on the bedspread while its end buzzed and tickled maddeningly 
inside him. "You look as though you don't like it, Paul." 

"It feels so weird," he said, wanting to yank it out of him and throw it 
away. 

"You'll get used to it. You'll like it. Push more of it into you," she said, 
keeping her fires going at a nice, simmering rate with her fingers pulling 
softly at her clit. 

"It's too darned big," he said, glaring down at the thing that looked so 
alien there, nestled under his flaccid prick and balls, buzzing away at a 
fiendishly steady pace. 

With fists on her hips, she said, "Do I have to do everything for you?" 

"O-kay!" he said, and reached down and grabbed the darned thing, winced as 
he pushed half of it in him, then gritted his teeth and pushed more of it in 
through the pain. 

She settled down again, removed the threat of leaving him, and said, "Now 
work it in and out, like I did. It's lubricated for you." 

"It's so darned ... unh ... big and hard and ... unh ... long!" said Paul, 
with growing resentment. "Haven't I done it enough now?" 

"Obviously not," she said, and reached down and gave his limp pecker a pull. 
"Keep going." 

He gritted his teeth and kept working it in and out. The pain was gone now, 
but not the entirely weird and alien feeling of having something that big 
inside him, throbbing with electric life. It didn't hurt at all, but neither 
did it feel as good as she'd obviously expected it to and still he was 
horribly embarrassed by its presence in him right there where she could 
watch. If only he was alone with it, it might even feel good in a strange 
way, but there was no way it could be allowed to excite him while she 
watched. And she could see more of its entry now because his prick had 
swelled up and risen a little. 

"Ooo, you're getting a hard-on," she said, and clapped her hands, then 
clasped him to her bosom as she stood up on her knees before him. 

It was just exactly what he needed. With his face against the tits he loved, 
she couldn't watch him butt-fuck himself with the darned thing, and with 
both his arms about her loveliness she couldn't expect him to keep on doing 
it to himself. He hugged and kissed her with great ardor, hoping to postpone 
all the dildoing that he could by so doing. She helped him in this by cooing 
and purring, feeding him one of her tits and stooping to kiss him deeply 
from time to time. It was terrific. In spite of his previous exhaustion, he 
was getting excited again, but now the darned dildo was starting to itch 
quite badly. 

"Wait a minute," he murmured, and reached down between his legs and moved it 
a little, "Sighed at how much better it felt, and resumed his loving 
attention to her tits. 

She took one of his hands from her wonderfully big ass and placed it on her 
hairy wet cunt, and without being prompted he began to manipulate her clit 
as she'd been doing. "Nice," she said, drawing back and smiling at him, 
cupping his cheeks in her hand and swapping tongues with him as their lips 
grazed together. His prick was good and hard, and now he found that he could 
alter the position of the buzzing dildo in his butt by squirming his ass on 
the bed while they kissed and kissed and he toyed with her cunt while it got 
wetter and wetter. 

"Whew," she said, backing off at last and brushing back her tousled hair. 
"You've got me so hot I'm about to cum again. You're a wonderful lover, or 
you will be when I'm done with you. And how're you doing with my dildo? I 
see our friend has you nice and hard again," she said, and reached down and 
pulled his hard prick with one hand, worked the dildo deeply in and out of 
him with the other. 

For an instant he felt like cumming. The longer movement of the thing 
reached all those nerve endings that needed reaching, making him sigh and 
moan and writhe his hips forward. "You do it," she said, and wholly 
unabashed now, he reached down while both of them closely watched, and he 
pushed the lovely buzzing thing in and out of his butt-hole with delicious 
ease and delightful sensation. 

"I knew you'd like it, darling," said she, and kissed his fevered brow while 
he went right on fucking himself with it. "You always do like what I show 
you, eventually." 

"I sure do! Wow!" he said, finding new ways for himself to work that thing 
in and out of him. 

"Know what I'd like?" she said, doing her belly-dance before him again, nice 
and slow, with ample hand movements. 

"Huh-uh," said he, staring, fucking himself. "I'd like to have somebody suck 
my cunt." 

"And I'd like to do it. I'd like to ... to suck your cunt, Auntie Liz." 

"Mm-m-m." She ran a hand over it, pushed fingers inside that squelched 
audibly. "I'm all wet. Too wet. I'd better go take a shower first." 

"I'd like to .. ." He had to swallow hard, though his mouth was dry as bone. 
"I'd like to suck on it now, Auntie Liz, Please." 

She shrugged, went on stroking it, and said, "Well, here it is. All hot and 
waiting for you." 

She stayed right there on her widespread knees while Paul scrambled around 
on the bed, holding his dildo in its place, getting down on his back and 
inching under her till he was looking right straight up at her gorgeous big 
cunt. Its heat and its steam and its scent radiated down on him as he licked 
his lips and reached up with trembling hands to hold her big hips and guide 
him down on his upturned face. 

"Mm-m-m. Nice." He could hear her through her cunt, it seemed, because his 
ears were covered up by her silken soft thighs, and he sucked and kissed and 
tongued with ardorous abandon as she settled her twat more lovingly on his 
face. His face was already wet from chin to brow and he went right on 
sucking and kissing and stabbing with his tongue for new places to thrill 
her half as much as he was being thrilled by the butt-fucking she was giving 
him. Yes, she was pushing and pulling the dildo for him, leaving his hands 
free to roam over the great naked bulk hovering over him. Now and then her 
whole cunt tensed and quivered and seemed to melt, flooding his face with 
more of her rich, sweet juices, letting him know she was cumming for him and 
making him want to make her cum again. She was sliding it back and forth 
across his face, and now she settled it with her clit right at his lips and 
he sucked and tongued with all his ardor, near exploding from the dildo in 
his butt, while he heard her say, "Lovely, lovely cunt-sucker. You can't get 
enough of it. One cunt isn't enough for you. You need at least two. Mm-m-m. 
I'll bet your mother's cunt tastes good. I might find out for myself this 
afternoon. I want you to suck her cunt soon, darling, as soon as I think 
you're ready for it. She's so beautiful, and she needs it so bad. But suck 
mine now. Tha-a-a-at's right. Oh, shit. I'm heading toward a really big cum. 
Mmm, and your prick looks too good to pass up. This is called sixty-nine, 
darling. Keep sucking Auntie's twat, and I'll show you." Sixty-nine. The 
name was perfectly logical to him when she showed him the position, but then 
all logic fled as the full feeling of her mouth hotly sucking on his dick 
came through to him. 

She had them on their sides now and she'd accommodatingly lifted one heavy 
thigh up so that he could get more of her cunt while she sucked him on 
toward completion. He was drenched, filled by her wonderful juices, and then 
he was exploding as he never had before, jism pouring forth, pushed by the 
vibrating dildo still moving in his butt, pulled by the most wonderful mouth 
in the world. They quivered and shook together, writhing and straining and 
rolling on the bed, mouths locked to crotches and cumming insanely, till he 
could no longer fight the sweeping ecstasies that loomed to overwhelm him 
and he sagged into a world of sweet half-consciousness. 

He was so tired that he was more of a hindrance than a help as his 
solicitous aunt helped him to his room, got him into his cut-offs, and 
tucked him into his bed for a much needed nap. 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

While Paul slept, Liz showered and freshened her make-up and perfume and got 
out the purchases she'd made the day before. From these she took the pale 
green panty and bra set and put it on. She smiled at the way the lingerie 
fit her. The panties were high rising on her full white hips, with the leg 
holes almost reaching up to the elastic waistband, the front panel a deep 
vee that very clearly defined her bulging crotch, and the seat barely 
covering the deep groove between the big soft mounds of her buttocks. They 
were made of very thin nylon and completely unadorned with any lace, as was 
the matching brassiere. This was as skimpy as the panties, with shoulder and 
back straps that were very narrow and tiny triangles of cups that fairly 
overflowed with the generous bounty of her tits. Her dark nipples and pubic 
hair clearly showed through the pale green and the dark hairs of her pubes 
were not all contained by the crotchband of her new panties. She thought she 
looked extremely alluring, especially when she'd donned the high, platform 
sandals she'd bought. She also thought her widowed sister would be home 
early from work, and she was correct in both these things. 

Helen nearly burst through the front door, eyes wide, looking anxious. "Did 
Paul cut the . ..?" She stopped in the entryway, eyes staring at her 
sister's very abbreviated costume, fingers fidgeting at the new belt around 
her long waist. "My, you look . .. nice and cool," she said. 

"It's such a warm day," said Liz, and slipped an arm about her sister's 
waist to lead her along, "come. I've got a cold drink all ready for you in 
the kitchen." 

She had gin and orange juice in a pitcher in the refrigerator. Helen was led 
along, smiling nervously, very tense in the crook of Liz's arm. While Liz 
poured the drinks, Helen looked out the back window and Liz clearly saw her 
girdled buttocks tremble as she squeezed her shapely legs together. There 
was a look of relief, though, on her face when she turned about to accept 
her drink. 

"Tsk. He didn't cut the hedge," she said. "He's usually such a good boy. I 
don't know what's come over him lately. You must think I'm an awful mother 
to have a disobedient son like that." 

Liz patted her sister's hip and said, "I think you were awful if you didn't 
do something about it. He needs a good, hard spanking," she said, fingering 
the thin white leather circling Helen's waist, "that's what he needs." 

Helen nodded solemnly, drank deeply of her drink, and said, "Wh-where is 
he?" 

"Sleeping, the lazy little wretch. I think he was masturbating this morning, 
Helen. Honestly, I do." 

"No!" 

' Yes! He locked himself in his bathroom for a long, long time. Then when he 
came out and I reminded him about the hedge he just grinned in a very 
insolent way and told me he felt like taking a nap. So he did." 

"Masturbating!? Oh, my God!" said Helen, pacing around, finishing her drink 
and holding out her glass for a refill. "He's too young for that. I mean, no 
boy should ever do that, but Paul's too young to ... to even be able to try! 
Liz, what are we going to do?" 

"First thing is calm you down, cool you off, and then we'll take care of 
that son of yours. Come to the bedroom, darling, and get out of those hot 
clothes and this awful girdle. It wouldn't do any good to discipline Paul 
when you're all hot and bothered." 

Helen came along with her drink. She was shivering in a way that was 
delightful to her sister as she was led along, and the shiverings approached 
convulsion dimensions when she paused at Paul's open door and both mature 
women gazed in at the recumbent form of the boy, looking so sweet and pure 
and defenseless as he slept on his back, wearing nothing at all but his 
frayed denim shorts. Helen was taking deep, deep breaths as she was guided 
along to her bedroom. There Liz took charge in earnest. 

"You need a shower first. I'll help you undress. No arguments, little 
sister. Off with your pretty new belt. Off with this ugly old uniform. Now 
the shoes. My, you have pretty legs. And now I'll just take down these 
panty-hose. Practical things, I suppose, but not near so attractive as nylon 
stockings. Just sip your drink, dear, and I'll help you after your hard days 
work," sincerely enjoying the disrobing of the very shapely and very excited 
blonde. 

"I'll f-f-f-finish in the bathroom," said Helen. 

"Nonsense," said Liz, and got up from her knees to have a go at the snaps of 
Helen's bra, and Helen's shoulders slumped and she sighed in resignation as 
off it came. 

Liz's fingers moved over the red lines left from the garment, and she said, 
"My, you have lovely breasts for having borne a child. Did you nurse Paul?" 

Helen nodded, beads of sweat on her upper lip, and she caught her underlip 
in her teeth and closed her eyes when Liz chuckled and said, "I bet he'd 
like to nurse on these beauties now. Boys are like that. He might even have 
been thinking about that when he was in there masturbating this morning. Now 
let's get this girdle off and get you into the shower." 

They worked on this tight garment together, with Liz kneeling before Helen 
and tugging at the elasticized nylon, with Helen pushing down at it with 
clumsy hands. Liz kept chattering and laughing, erasing red lines on tanned 
flesh as they appeared, while her younger sister trembled and panted and 
looked absolutely miserable. 

Liz made her stand there while she admired her blushing nudity, the slender 
hips and the matted blonde pubic hair, the long narrow waist and the tits 
that were longer, more pendant than hers, but tipped with equally hard 
nipples. Still she wouldn't let her alone, pushing her on into the bathroom, 
then sitting down on the toilet while Helen showered. She insisted on drying 
Helen off, going over every part of her nude body with the soft towel while 
Helen stood there limply. She seemed in a trance as Liz powdered her and 
perfumed her, brushed out her hair and then sat her down on the toilet and 
told her to pee. 

Helen's eyes were dull and her hands were lifeless at her sides as she 
urinated, gazing straight ahead at the big loins of the woman who stood 
before her in wisps of nylon. 

Liz smiled down on her, stroked her head, bent and kissed her cheek and 
murmured, "Come along to the bed now, darling. I've a surprise for you." 

Helen looked at her beseechingly, nodded weakly, and murmured, "Yes, Liz." 

The slender, big-busted blonde stood swaying by the foot of the bed while 
Liz dressed her in a yellow panty-bra outfit that was cut exactly the same 
as her lime green lingerie. As she put the yellow panties on her, she quite 
deliberately felt of Helen's pussylips, found them swollen and tumescent and 
creamy slick with fragrant wetness, and Helen's only reaction was to breathe 
faster and part her legs a bit. Liz had a very hot little sister on her 
hands, perhaps too hot for what she had in mind for her. 

She rose and swatted Helen hard on the ass, and Helen gasped and jumped a 
foot. She swatted her again and she moaned and arched out her lovely 
backside, and Liz slipped an arm about her limp but trembling waist, kissed 
her warmly on the lips, and said, "Let's go take care of that bad boy of 
yours now. Eh?" 

A smile twitched the corners of Helen's mouth. She brushed her carmined lips 
against Liz's and murmured, "Yes, Liz. Let's take good care of him." Her 
steps were mincing, her inner thighs brushing closely together as she led 
the way to Paul's bedroom, thin white belt in hand, slapping rhythmically 
against her leg. 

SPLAT! Paul was awakened by the sharp sting of leather across his bare belly 
and sat bolt upright in bed to face the two women who stood there, fists on 
hips, stunningly attired in the briefest of pastel panties and bras. His 
mother was in yellow, scowling, white leather strap dangling from her hip, 
while his aunt was smirking beside her, and either one alone was more than 
enough to make his pecker spring to life despite the smarting of his whipped 
belly. 

"Up!" his mother curtly commanded, "and into your mother's bedroom," added 
his aunt, and at once Paul was scampering along with the two obviously 
vengeful women at his heels. Still addled by his deep sleep, he had to face 
them at the foot of the bed, and his mother leaned forward at him and almost 
spat in his face as she said, "Why didn't you cut that hedge?" 

"I... I forgot!" he said, looking to Liz for help that was not yet 
forthcoming. 

"You forgot!?" said his mother, and made him jump with a switch of the belt 
across his leg. "And what were you doing instead? ! ?" 

"N-nothing," he said, when there was still no help from his aunt. 

"Down with those pants," said his mother. "I'll try to help you remember 
before you get out there and do your work." 

He gritted his teeth, opened his shorts, and pushed them down, baring a 
flaming erection which he tried to conceal with a bent-over stance. He was 
as confused as he was aroused, but he knew his aunt would come to his 
rescue, but then she added to his confusion by stepping forward and taking 
his hot hard prick in her cool soft hand. 

"Just look at this, Helen," she said, as Paul tried to cringe back from them 
and as his mother gasped at what she saw. "You see?" said his aunt. "He's 
certainly old enough to be playing with himself." 

His mother's eyes blazed as she spluttered, "You were playing with yourself, 
jerking off, MASTURBATING when you should have been doing your chores. You 
were, weren't you? Answer me! I KNOW you were!" 

"I didn't! I wasn't!" he cried, again looking to Liz for help, with again 
none forthcoming. 

"It's very hard," said Liz. "Just feel of it, Helen. I'm sure it's hard 
enough for him to be able to have an ejaculation. Feel of it if you don't 
believe me. It's all right. After all, he's your son." 

Helen shuddered visibly, then darted a hand down to grasp Paul's prick along 
with Liz. 

Paul thought he'd surely die, and he didn't much care if he did--if this 
could last a few minutes longer. He'd already been practically crawling out 
of his skin with a weird mixture of fear and embarrassment and yearning and 
sexual excitement and now it felt as if every hair on his body was standing 
on end and his prick and balls were the size of a giant's. He was up on his 
toes, fists clenched at his sides, mouth wide open and eyes goggling down at 
the two hands on his bare dick, one of them soft and exciting, the other one 
trembling and even more exciting. 

"D'you think it's hard enough to cum, Helen?" said Liz, brushing her nude 
warmth against the naked boy. 

"It's... VERY hard," said Helen, brushing against him too as another flow of 
weakness passed through her legs. 

"I imagine he was stroking it like this," said Liz, slowly demonstrating. 
"Pulling it and pushing it and drawing back the foreskin like this, while he 
had fantasies of heaven-knows-whom." 

"YES," said Helen, "YES!" appalled at the steely hardness of her son's 
penis, quite unable to take her hand from it though nor to stop her hand 
from moving as her sister's was moving. 

"D'you think it can cum?" said Liz. "D'you think he can?" 

"I don't know! I just don't know!" said Helen, quite oblivious of her son's 
straining distress, near oblivious of everything but that small, very hard 
prick in her hand. Even when he uttered a mortal groan it hardly registered 
to her, and only when he cried, "Mama!" and began squirting his semen all 
over her thigh did she realize where she was and what was happening. It was 
far too late to stop anything by then, most of all the enormous flood of 
emotions sweeping through her, and all she could do was surrender to these 
emotions and embrace her son's convulsing body with all her might and feel 
his jism spurting hotly and copiously against her groin to run in 
agonizingly sweet rivulets down her bare legs. "Poor baby, poor baby," she 
crooned close to weeping for some unaccountable reason, while he clung to 
her and openly wept, moaning, "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I'm sorry.'' 

Liz let them cling and moan and weep and shiver together for a time before 
she hissed, "Helen! Look! He's cum ALL OVER you!" 

"Wh-what?" said Helen, still locked in a shuddering embrace with her son, 
cum still tracing a tortuous sweet path down her leg. "He ... he's 
ejaculated, hasn't he?" 

"I'm sorry, Mom," said Paul, trying to regain her arms as she very shakily 
drew away from him. "You certainly should be sorry," said Liz. "The very 
idea, masturbating all day in the bathroom and then cumming all over your 
poor mother. I'm very disappointed in you, Paul. Helen, don't you think you 
should rinse that off?" 

"What?" said Helen, looking down at the pearly white gobbers oozing down her 
tanned leg. "Wash it? Oh, yes. Yes, of course," she said, and tottered 
toward her bathroom on high heels and stiff legs. 

Liz winked at Paul and kissed him, embraced the stunned boy and nipped his 
ear with her teeth and said, "Mmm, I bet that felt good, cumming in your 
mother's arms. There'll be more of that, more and better, as long as you're 
a good boy and do as your auntie wants you to do. Hold still now," she said, 
and quickly knelt and sucked on his prick while it was still hard, savoring 
every morsel of the fecund juices that had spewed so forcefully from his 
body. She was on her feet again, licking her lipsticked lips, when Helen 
returned, trying hard to look the strict disciplinarian. She failed 
miserably, first because of her scanty attire, second because of the way her 
knees buckled at the sight of that hard white prick. 

But she pulled herself together, and she picked up her new white belt and 
she said to her son, "Bend over and grab your ankles. You're going to get a 
whipping like you never had before. First for failing to cut that hedge, 
second for playing with yourself all morning, and third ... third for. .. 
for..." 

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!!! The belt slashed through the air with a 
fury, impacting unerringly on the pure white buttocks of the gasping boy. 
But gasps were all he uttered as his mother flailed the cruel leather with a 
demonic force that startled even the hardened Liz. Helen's blonde hair was 
flying and her usually placid features were twisted into a mask of fervid 
purpose as she whipped and whipped that boy, SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT, 
laying it on till her tanned body was sweating and his white ass was striped 
everywhere with red. And then all at once she wilted and the belt dropped 
from her hand, her eyelids drooped and she said to her sister, "Enough. He's 
had enough. I'm thirsty. Tired. I want to lie down. Just. .. lie . .. down." 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

Helen was all limp and buttery soft and sleepy as Liz led her back to the 
kitchen, poured her another glass of orange juice and gin, and led her into 
the back yard. Liz had spread a blanket there, half in sun, half in shade, 
and Helen sighed and yawned as she was stretched out in the sun and told 
that she should relax, take things easy for a while. 

Liz then returned to the house, to the bedroom, where she found Paul still 
in the bedroom, ruefully examining his blistered backside in the full length 
mirror on the door. She kissed him and hugged him, and though his prick was 
hard, he looked at her resentfully when she held him at arm's length and 
spoke to him. "That was quite a spanking you got. It was all for a good 
cause, though. You'll see." 

"It hurt like heck!" he angrily said. "And it was YOUR fault I. .." 

"Don't be such a baby," she said, shaking him. "It was in the best interests 
of all of us. You'll see that I'm right. Now come on in the back yard and 
get your work done." She kissed him again and he was merely pouting now as 
he headed down the hall with his aunt right behind him, carrying two more of 
her recent purchases in her hand. 

He balked at the back door, saying, "I can't go out there naked!" 

"Of course you can," said Liz. "No one's going to see you but me and your 
mother. And we're practically naked ourselves. Look out the window. Doesn't 
she look lovely lying there in the sun. Wouldn't you like to be ... closer 
to her?" 

"She sure did whip me hard," he said, gingerly rubbing his sore bottom as he 
peered out through the kitchen curtains. 

"Yes," said Liz, brushing her softness against his lean back. "And wouldn't 
you like to have some revenge for that soon? That can be yours if you trust 
me. Come, dear. Out you go. It will all be better soon. Your Auntie Liz will 
see to that." 

She found his modesty to be charming as he timorously crept out on the back 
porch, and she had to prod him to continue on till they were on the blanket 
beside the dozing Helen. There Liz gave her sister an accidental kick to be 
sure she wouldn't sleep through the little show she'd planned for her. 

Helen's eyelids were heavy, but they were open as her son obeyed her 
sister's command to lie down on his stomach on the blanket. Liz was kneeling 
on the other side of Paul and Helen had a clear view of her naked, 
beautifully youthful son and her voluptuously beautiful sister in her skimpy 
green panty-bra set. Helen was shocked at the striped redness of Paul's 
buttocks, yet wholly fascinated. It made her feel so uncomfortable that she 
continued to feign sleep while she watched and listened to them. 

Liz opened a jar of cold cream and Paul flinched when she placed a large 
white dollop of it on his reddened butt. "Hold still. This will cool you 
off," said Liz, and Helen's thinly covered bottom got all gooseflesh as she 
watched the feminine hand rub the cream into the masculine buttocks. It 
glistened there, and Liz placed another dollop on his ass and left it as she 
smeared more of it on his back and the backs of his legs. 

"Doesn't that feel nice?" she said, tits jiggling perilously as she bent 
over his supine form. "It's good suntan lotion, too, and you may as well get 
a tan while you're doing your work. Your poor red fanny is what needs it 
most, though. Spread your legs wide, honey, and I'll rub the rest of it in." 

Paul's foot touched Helen's as he spread his legs. It was like getting an 
electric shock. The dollop of cold cream on his ass looked like a 
surrealistic iceberg, quickly melting as Liz moved it over his buttocks and 
into the crack between them. 

He gave a little start and said, "Auntie Liz, what're you.... ?" 

"Hush, dear," she purred, "or you'll wake your mother, and she's so tired 
from her hard day's work. I want to get some on your testicles so they won't 
get sunburned, and here, here on your little bum-hole." 

Paul was squirming and clutching at the blanket and touching Helen 
repeatedly with his foot. She knew exactly what Liz was doing, was appalled 
by it, and totally frustrated in not being able to sit up and watch every 
detail of it. 

"Oh, Aunt Liz! Please! Oh, it feels so... so .. ." 

Liz just chuckled and went right on. Heavens, she must be pushing two or 
three fingers in clear to the knuckle from the looks of things and from the 
way Paul was moaning and panting. Just the thought of it made Helen's prim 
asshole cringe and twitch and open and close, and despite her every effort 
she couldn't stop those feelings from spreading down to her twat. She longed 
to scratch herself there, very hard, but all she could do was lie there 
motionless, looking and listening. 

"Roll over, honey," Liz said at last, and Helen was frankly staring as her 
son shifted his position on the blanket close beside her, arching his slim 
young body and making the slender shaft of his splendid young prick wave and 
thrust in the air. It was incredibly beautiful! She'd never thought her 
husband's penis particularly attractive, but this perfectly erect piece of 
flesh at her side was as moving as a great piece of art. As Liz's hands 
worked all around it, Helen raptly gazed at the sturdy white shaft 
wholesomely capped with a pink knob, glistening wet, quite helpless to stop 
the throbbing in her pussy that was turning her panty's crotchband into a 
sodden mass. She longed to get up and go to her bathroom and masturbate yet 
couldn't dream of leaving the closeness of that bare prick, and Liz solved 
her dilemma for her. 

"There," she said, without even having touched Paul's prick! "You'll get a 
nice tan now while you do your work. Get up and put this on." 

"A... jockstrap?" said Paul, rising to his feet before his kneeling aunt. 

"It's all you'll need. Only your mother and I will be here to see you. Step 
into the straps, Paul." 

Still watching, shocked, Helen followed the course of the thin white elastic 
straps up Paul's gleaming hairless legs. Looking up between his legs, she 
saw his tight pink nuts disappear into the webbed pouch, and when he turned 
she saw the hard bulge of his prick clearly outlined under the taut 
waistband. He seemed embarrassed to wear it, and Liz tried to put him at his 
ease, saying how much more comfortable it would be than his shorts and 
patting his legs until at last he set out for the hedge, with the 
pink-striped mounds of his firm, boyish buttocks on clear display between 
the straps of white. A slap on her bottom startled Helen to the verge of a 
small orgasm. 

"Have a nice nap, dear?" said Liz. "I've put our Paul to work. How do you 
think he looks in his bikini?" 

"It's one of those . .. athletic supporters," said Helen, up on her elbows 
to watch Paul's every movement as he bent and picked up the hedge clippers 
and moved on to the hedge. 

"A jockstrap," said Liz. "I think he looks cute in it. I think that's all he 
should be allowed to wear around the house when he's been bad. That way he 
can't sneak off and get into trouble with his friends. What do you think?" 

"Uh-huh," Helen murmured, staring at the beautiful male animal who was her 
son, slowly turning into twitching jelly from the small, constant movements 
of the hand on her thinly covered buttocks. 

"And wearing only that," Liz went on, "if we felt like spanking him there'd 
be no need to take his pants down. There'd be no danger of his having an 
accident all over your legs as he did in the kitchen just now. I think it's 
the perfect costume for him around the house. Don't you?" 

Helen nodded, staring at the boy whose hard-on ... 

[section missing from original] 

... of her clitoris against the earth, while the hand on her bottom seemed 
to encourage her to slip deeper into her erotic reverie. 

Liz nestled closer, sometimes fondling her buttocks through the thin yellow 
panties, sometime slipping her hand inside their seat, always talking softly 
about the near nude boy laboring there so close to them. The sweat was 
running off him, saturating his jock's web and showing that his hard-on 
persisted. Helen was sweating too, fidgetting increasingly, squirming her 
stiff nipples and clit against the ground while the hand kept toying with 
her seething bottom. She felt her juices gush when the hand gripped the seat 
of her panties and pull the crotchband hard into her swollen slit. 

"It's getting hot out here," said Liz. "And I'm getting hotter looking at 
Paul in his jockstrap. Why don't we go inside where it's cool, take a nice 
shower, and stretch out on your bed together. Hmm?" 

"Yes," Helen croaked. 

Liz had to help her up. Her body felt so heavy, from her tingling tits to 
her seething bottom. Her panties had been all drawn up into the crack of her 
ass. They stayed right there as she bent and picked up her empty glass, 
though the sound of the hedge clipper stopped, and she knew her son was 
staring at the big, white and tan exposure of her denuded bottom. Liz kissed 
her cheek as she straightened up and told her she'd be right along, and 
Helen's hips and torso moved in sinuous grace as she made her way to the 
house. She paused at the back door, watching as if from a dream, as her 
older sister spoke to her son, caressing low on his belly with her hand as 
she did, and there she waited till Liz was coming toward her, smiling, 
looking appreciatively down at her body. 

"Here, let me take off your pretty undies for you," said Liz in the 
bathroom. "My, you've got a nice big pair of tits," she said, liberally 
feeling of them. It was all a dream. Nothing really mattered because it 
wasn't real, not even when Liz knelt and stripped off her panties, laughed 
and touched her sodden wet slit and said, "We'll have to do something about 
that. Into the shower with you." 

The shower didn't help Helen's wet pussy. As fast as the water sluiced off 
her naked body, more of the rich secretions of her fully aroused sexuality 
drenched her quivering vulval lips. Her sister's close presence added to 
Helen's spiraling giddiness as warm wet flesh brushed together in the shower 
stall. Helen felt breathless and both sisters were giggling like a pair of 
girls as Liz tickled her and openly admired her feminine charms. 

"You've beautiful breasts for having had Paul suck on them. Your tummy's as 
flat as a boy's. I love your slim hips. Your bottom is so round and firm." 
The flattery was going to Helen's head almost as much as the accompaning 
fondlings were affecting her senses and she glowed with a deep inner warmth 
when at last the cool shower water was turned off and Liz helped her out of 
the shower. 

"I'm going to dry you off. No, I won't take no for an answer," said Liz, 
towel in hand and already rubbing briskly. Her black hair plastered down on 
her head gave her the resemblance of a Grecian boy, despite the big jiggling 
tits on her chest. 

"I'll get you nice and dry," said Liz, and curled an arm about her hips and 
held a firm hand on her buttocks while she vigorously toweled Helen's pubic 
mound. 

Henel gasped loudly. "Oh, Liz! D-Don't DO that!" 

Liz laughed and held her closer. "We've got to get your hair all fluffed 
up." 

"PLEASE, Liz! You're getting me all____" 

Helen stopped, panting, dizzy with high desire. 

"Getting you all hot?" said Liz, dropping the towel and massaging the 
prominent blonde-haired mound with her fingers, much more slowly, and with 
deliberate sensuality. "I'd know what to do about that if I were a boy," she 
said, and Helen shivered all over as Liz slipped her hand between her legs 
to slide the soft edge of it directly against her pulsing pussy lips. "I'd 
even know what to do about it if I were a girl," she said, and placed her 
crimsoned lips against the tufted flesh and blew warm, perfumed breath deep 
into Helen's churning gut. 

"Liz, PLEASE! You're ... driving me out of my MIND!" Helen stammered. "I... 
I can't even think!" 

"Then don't," said Liz through her nuzzling kisses. "Just come to bed with 
me. We'll make each other feel good, all over, just like we deserve to 
feel." 

"I couldn't," Helen said, though she made no effort to move her steamy loins 
from Liz's lips. 

"But I could," said Liz, and rose majestically to her feet to peck a kiss 
that smelled of pussy, and to propel her younger sister toward the bedroom 
with a slap on her fluttery bottom. 

Helen protested all the way, but feebly and ineffectively. She was appalled 
at her sister's behavior, but much too far gone from alcohol and emotion to 
resist Liz's obvious intent. She hardly had the presence of mind to notice 
the movement in the shadows near the hall door before she was placed upon 
the bed,' and moved up till her back was against the bookshelves there. 
"What are you going to do?" she said, all distraught. "Liz, don't do 
something we'll both be sorry for." 

"Sit up on this pillow, dear," said Liz. "Just put your pretty bottom on 
this and stop worrying." 

Protesting, pleading all the way, Helen hiked up her hot, wet bottom for the 
insertion of the pillow and settled comfortably down on it with her knees up 
and her legs out, just as her shamefully licentious sister indicated. Again 
she thought she saw someone standing just outside her bedroom door, but 
again she was far too distraught to really notice. She couldn't yet believe 
what her sister was preparing to do, for she looked so utterly feminine and 
perfectly beautiful all stretched out on the bed, as naked as she, with her 
soft hands pushing Helen's softer thighs apart and with her delicate pink 
tongue licking her red-rouged lips. 

"Ahh-h-h-! Oo-o-o-, no-o-o-o-o," Helen moaned, shaking her blonde head and 
grasping Liz's black hair in her fist as those lipsticked lips descended on 
her opened slit to suck on her clitoris in a fantastic, terribly wicked way. 
"Uh! Oh! Stop!" Helen panted, grimacing deeply from the deep ecstasy she was 
feeling and thrusting her wide open crotch forward at the lasciviously 
sucking mouth there. "I can't stand that," she moaned. "This is awful," she 
said, wirthing her ass on the pillow, humping forward with her gushing twat, 
praying that it was only her imagination that placed her son at the door 
with his hand moving inside the webbed pouch of his jockstrap. 

"Feels nice, eh?" said Liz, and licked her smiling lips and stabbed her 
sister's clit with her tongue. 

"No!" Helen cried, holding on with both hands now, thrashing her hips 
frantically, but being robbed of all coordination by that heavily sucking 
mouth on her repeatedly bursting cunt. "No! This is awful! Please stop!" she 
wailed, hard-tipped tits flopping now with the frenzied gyrations born from 
her wicked sister's lashing tongue and sucking lips. 

And still she sucked on! Liz was idly kicking her heavily sculptured calves, 
pushing Helen's wet, exploding thighs wide apart, and slurping and sucking 
on her cunt like she was a lecherous male. Helen couldn't help but thrash 
about, knocking books from the shelves and wrapping her legs as well as her 
hands about Liz's bobbing head, lost in a world of delirious ecstasy through 
which she could still see her son grinning and pulling at his hidden pecker. 
Though she fought all the way, orgasm after lovely orgasm came bursting 
through her, surely making her appear to be as wanton and wicked as her 
sister to anyone real who might be watching. But of course it was all a 
dream, and when this realization came to her she laughed and babbled, "Yes, 
suck it! Oh, how I love to have my cunt sucked. Gaw-w-w-wd, I'm cumming so 
heavy and fast I don't know if I'm ever going to stop and I don't care! 
Uh-h-h-h, yes, again, AGAIN! Oh! OH!!! OH-H-H-H!!!" she cried, exploding all 
the way now, laughing and shouting and humping cunt hard against his mouth, 
letting it all go at once and on forever, until she felt herself being 
dragged bodily down the bed and felt Liz's cunty lips seeking hers. 

"NO! STOP IT! DONT!" Helen screamed, fighting back effectively now, arching 
and twisting the heavy body off from between her legs, clawing and 
scratching at the laughing face before her. 

Yes, laughing, her sister was laughing at her for having succumbed to too 
much alcohol and too much loneliness and Helen's fury freshened and she was 
able to quell the awful flood of feeling in her loins and fight until her 
dreadful sister had rolled away from her, chuckling, and wiping her mouth. 

"Feel better, darling?" said Liz. "When you cum, you really make a meal of 
it." 

"I didn't! I swear it!" Helen indignantly cried, brushing back her hair and 
doing her best to cover up so that Paul, in case he really had been peeping 
in, couldn't see any more of her and get an even more erroneous impression 
of his mother. "I was asleep when it started. Half drunk. I didn't know what 
was happening till it was. . . till it was happening! Liz, how could 
you?!?!!" 

Liz shrugged. "It was easy. And now it'll be easy for you to sleep." She 
rolled off the bed and went her gracefully heavy way to the bathroom as 
Helen watched, shaking her head in despair for her, then peering at the 
dimly lit doorway again. No one there. No, Paid wouldn't dare peep at her. 
She yawned, scratched a pussy that hadn't felt that good in years, and she 
plumped up the deeply scented pillow and went fast asleep. 

Helen had to be awakened for dinner. And drowsily helped back into the very 
becoming little yellow panties and bra that her solicitous sister had bought 
for her. The crotchband of her panties was crusted with her secretions but 
this was the only indication of anything untoward that might have happened 
in the afternoon. Liz was pleasant, blandly smiling as she served Helen a 
cocktail sherry and though Paul seemed to have a secret smirk about him he 
was politely deferential to his mother and aunt as he set the dinner table 
for three. Helen served steak and mushrooms, deliciously. After dinner the 
little family watched some television from widely separated parts of the 
living room and all in all it was an extremely enjoyable, quiet evening at 
home. Helen had never felt so relaxed. Her brief attire and Liz's equally 
scanty apparel hardly fazed her, and she rather enjoyed seeing her son clad 
in only the pure white jockstrap. Watching him had made her pussy nicely 
damp again and had softened the clinging crustiness of her pantie's 
crotchband. 

She felt glowing and alive again when it was bedtime and her older sister 
was tucking her in, kissing her cheek and stroking her hair and murmuring, 
"Tomorrow's another day. We'll see, when you get home, if Paul has done his 
chores. If so, fine; if not. .. tomorrow is another fine day." 

Helen smiled and kissed her sister's lips and squeezed her pussy under the 
covers and fell asleep again. 

CHAPTER NINE 

The clatter of dishes in the kitchen woke Liz in the morning and she was 
still stretching when Helen's smiling face appeared. "Sleep well, Liz? Mind 
if I sit with you while I drink my coffee?" She came right ahead while Liz 
was still yawning. She was clad as usual in her beautician uniform but she 
moved less stiffly than usual, and as she sat down on the bed Liz glimpsed 
the welt of a stocking under her skirt's hem. 

Liz sighed and laid her hand on Helen's knee, and though Helen flinched, she 
didn't move away. Gazing up into her sister's bright, shining eyes, Liz 
moved her hand lazily around her skirted hip, patted a nice, soft bottom, 
and said, "No girdle this morning, eh?" 

Helen flushed prettily and said, "Well, it was sort of uncomfortable and you 
suggested... ooo . .." she said, shivering so that her coffee cup rattled as 
Liz's hand returned to her knee, then slid up under her skirt. She set the 
coffee cup down and continued "... and you suggested I try going without and 
wearing hose instead of pantyhose for a change." 

Liz flipped her skirt up, baring evenly tanned thighs between the taut welts 
of her stout brown hose and the well filled legholes of her plain pink 
panties. "Now, Liz," Helen cautioned in a tremulous voice, "we mustn't let 
anything happen like it did yesterday--if that happened at all. Honestly, I 
don't know what came over us there in my bedroom. I was so sleepy and drunky 
I hardly knew what was going on, and you were so ... so ... Liz, stop that!" 
she whispered, casting an anxious glance over her shoulder arid shifting her 
place on the bed till her legs were somewhat wider apart. "I don't know what 
to think about you any more. What if Paul comes out?" 

"He's still asleep," said Liz, hand roving freely over Helen's nubile thighs 
and fingers plucking at warm pink nylon. "And if he's not, we'll turn him 
over these pretty knees of yours and turn his bottom the same color as your 
panties." Helen giggled and tittered at this, till Liz brought her up short 
by saying, "Get up and take these off." 

"No!" she said, not indignantly enough to lose the bright flush in her eyes 
and cheeks. "Honestly, Liz, I don't know what's to become of you the way 
you... Stop! What're you doing!" she whispered, as both of Liz's hands went 
under her skirt to drag at the waistband of her panties. 

"I won't!" said Helen, looking over her shoulder again, and getting up on 
her knees on the bed so that, zip! Down came her panties and out came her 
fluffy blonde pubic mound. "Liz, stop! Now now!" she hissed, arching forward 
and shivering delightedly, and holding onto Liz's brunette head with both 
hands while the warm red mouth and the agile pink tongue worked over her 
gushing cunt in such a lascivious manner that she couldn't help but be as 
shocked as she was thrilled. "Oh-h-h-h, oh-h-h-h-h, oh-h-h-h-h,", she 
moaned, "what's to become of us. Spanking Paul like we've been doing and 
having him run around near naked and you doing this to me all the time ... 
oh-h-h-h-h-h, it's not right, it's just not right, and, ah-h-h-h-h," she 
moaned, jerking her hips at the foraging face before her, pressing her twat 
harder against that sucking mouth as the hot juices of dirty sex trickled 
down her warmly quaking thighs. "No, no, no-o-o-o-o," she moaned, falling 
back on the rumpled bed for a shuddering grand finale of an orgasm, then 
scrambling away from her wantonly wicked sister and hiking up her panties 
and straightening down her skirt. "Liz, this has got to stop," said she, 
with as much force as she could muster. "You can't go on doing things like 
that to me. Paul will find out and .. . and it isn't right. Liz, you're not 
taking this seriously at all!" she said, as her sister just stretched and 
lounged in bed, smiling langorously, big breasts lolling heavily in the thin 
confines of her nightie. 

"How do you feel about dressing Paul in rags if he doesn't do his work 
today?" said Liz. "And what about picking up a couple of thin, limber pieces 
of bamboo to stripe his little bum with?" 

Helen stopped short, paled, flushed, and stammered, "If he... doesn't do his 
work? You'll. . . remind him to do it, won't you? Won't you, Liz?" 

Liz snuggled down under the covers Saying, "Get some bamboo, nice and 
springy. And see if you can pick up an old flour sack." 

Clearly shaken, Helen nodded once, then turned and fled from her house. A 
smiling Helen sat up and threw back the covers. She lazily drew the nightie 
up over her head, hawned and fluffed out her hair. "Paul," she called, and 
rolled over and lay on her stomach on the bed, cheek resting on her hand, 
tapered white legs wide apart. 

He came creeping out from where he'd been watching in the hall, eyes wide, 
prick hard. He'd seen some fantastic things in the past few days, witnessed 
acts between his aunt and his mother that he'd never dreamed could happen, 
but none of the things he'd seen could quite compare to the vast beauty of 
his aunt, alone on the bed before him. 

Her pale white legs gleamed like satin, entirely smooth, without a hair on 
them. Her full rounded calves had flattened in repose without losing their 
suggestion of strength and power. The shallow hollows behind her knees were 
smoothly contoured and from them her big, heavy thighs tapered outward to be 
as full as a mere girl's waist. 

Her hips were stunning in their magnitude and her back veed outward from the 
indentation of her waist to soft, powerful shoulders strewn with raven hair. 
She was a beautiful, erotic sight lying nude like that and he felt 
priveleged to view her thus, especially that most beautiful part of all, the 
big rising moons of her buttocks, alabaster smooth and white, very deeply 
cleft with the split that curved steeply down to the tan orifice of her 
asshole and on to the the black-furred grotto of her sex. 

Just days ago he'd have been more than content to stand staring like this 
for the whole day. Now, however, he was peeling out of his pajamas as he 
stared, for though she looked as if she might be asleep, her ten pink toes 
were wriggling in soft impatience for him to join her. He crawled up on the 
bed between her widespread feet with his stiff pecker pointing ahead at her 
and feeling monstrously big and hard. 

"What should I do, Auntie Liz? What do you want me to do?" 

"Mmmmmm," she purred, as his hot little hands trembled and crept up and down 
her calves. 

"You're wonderful. I love you," he moaned, and fell forward to cover the 
backs of her knees with kisses. 

"Sweet," she said, languidly kicking up a foot, and softly squirming her 
flattened tits and cunt against the bed. 

"I'd do anything for you. I don't even care that you help her spank me," he 
said, close to sobbing with the beauty of it all as she lay there letting 
his hot hands and hotter kisses travel up and over the yielding fullnesses 
of her thighs. 

"Feels nice," she murmured, and the smallest movement of her lush nude body 
inspired him to even bolder passion. 

"Don't ever go away from here! Let me be with you always!" he cried, and wet 
her wonderful big buttocks with his tears and his kisses as she lay there 
purring like a lioness and softly arching her hips up, just for him, just 
for him! 

"I think I'm almost ready for you to put it in me there," she said, and he 
couldn't believe his ears. 

"Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes!" he cried, utterly jubilant, tears behind him, 
mouth quickly descending through the deep, warm crevice of jellied flesh to 
find that sweet hole he knew from experience to be so sensitive and to wet 
it thoroughly for the insertion of his frantically hard prick. 

It was sweet and soft and she could move it almost like she moved her mouth 
when he'd kissed her there. He used his tongue as she'd taught him, 
instinctively knowing the need to lubricate her there, but the passion with 
which he used his tongue had not been learned. It came from within him and 
he knew it would never waver toward another woman as he ardently sucked and 
tongued her anus, driven on by her sensuous stirrings and her softly purred 
words, "That feels so nice, honey, so very nice." He'd have gone right on 
kissing her ass forever, face buried between the big satin marshmallows of 
her buttocks, tongue up her butt, if she hadn't said, "Something else would 
feel nicer now. Put your prick in me now, darling. Fuck me. I'm so ready. 
You got me feeling so good." 

"How do I do it? What do I do?" he exclaimed, fighting rising panic, though 
he was already up on his knees with his prick in hand, pointing its 
throbbing red knob at her kiss-wet asshole. "Just put it in, darling. Just 
push your prick right on inside me," she said, tilting her pelvis up at just 
the right angle for him. 

He moaned in the agony of the ecstasy as his prickhead touched her flesh and 
for a moment he thought he'd cum and ruin it all. But her sharp intake of 
breath told him she was right with him, and her deep gutty sigh told him 
he'd shoved his hard prick all the way inside her soft asshole in exactly 
the right way. 

She shivered and gripped the mattress and squirmed and arched under him and 
said, "Fuck me, Paulie, fuck me. You deserve it and so do I. Fuck me good 
and don't hold back. Oh, yeah!" she said, with a rising excitement in her 
voice that lifted him up, too. 

His whole prick was sliding right in and out of her! It was the simplest 
thing in the world, but wholly amazing to him and with his hands resting 
hard on her ass he watched in total fascination as his slim white prick 
pulled out the puckered lips of her asshole and then pushed them back in, 
time after time, with accompanying sensations that were white hot. 

"Do you like it? Am I doing it right? Tell me!" he said, wanting still more 
than the sight and the feeling of this wonderful thing that was happening to 
him. 

"Honey, you're fucking me beautifully!" she said against the mattress, broad 
back rippling with her pleasures, heel kicking up against his thigh, 
heavenly big buttocks churning under his hands. "You're a wonderful fucker. 
I knew you would be. You're doing it just right. Your prick is magnificent. 
Push it in me and push it in me dig your fingers into my big fat ass and 
think about what a wild time we're going to have with your mother this 
afternoon." 

"No! Only you! Only you!" he cried, driving his hard white cock into her 
huge tight ass with a savagery that was beyond him, unable to stop it, 
finally falling forward on her big softness to feel her sudden sweating as 
his prick began to gush and spurt and spew up her butt, filling him with 
pleasures beyond all else she'd taught him, for now he knew she was fully 
sharing those pleasures with him. "ONLY YOU! ONLY YOU!" he moaned, emptying 
his entire jismy self into her, and she sighed and writhed under him, 
clasping his sliding pecker closely with her hole, shivering warmly, and 
murmuring, "You're so good, oh, so good. Too good to keep all to myself." 

Paul was feeling too luxuriously good to argue. He lay there sighing, his 
full weight on her comforting soft bulk, his prick encased in its warm, 
living sheath. He felt like dozing off but he didn't want to miss anything, 
and he felt that in just a few minutes she'd let him start sliding his prick 
in and out of her ass again. But no, she eased him off and out of her amid 
many sighs and pleasant groans, and he fell back on the bed beside her. "So 
that's what it is, huh?" he said. "Whew. 

Really something." Liz kissed his nose and said, "Cunt fucking's even 
better. You'll see. But now let's get you cleaned up." 

"Yeah," he said, and wearily started to rise. But she eased him back down, 
saying, "You rest. I'll get a warm cloth and wash you while you rest. 

You'll need your rest before your mother gets home." 

CHAPTER TEN 

Helen slammed the car door and walked briskly up the walk to the house. She 
was a little late because of the time it had taken to procure the half dozen 
slender bamboo rods and the threadbare flour sack she was carrying, but she 
was still in plenty of time to give her son the discipline he might need. 
And there'd be time after that to find relaxation from the unsolicited 
attentions of her homosexual sister. Liz was a weird, pathetic woman. It was 
a weird, unnatural situation. 

I would all end soon enough, when Liz's vacation was over with. Helen would 
just have to put up with her sister's lesbianism until then, and afterward 
proceed with her son's discipline, aided by the things she was learning now. 
The prospects of the now and the later were titillating if she allowed 
herself to dwell upon them but this she tried not to do as she hurried on to 
this afternoon's confrontation with her errant sister and her spoiled son. 
Helen opened the front door full of keen anticipation. 

"Hi, Liz," she called. "Is Paul here? Did he cut the he-- My," she said, 
surveying her sister seated comfortably on the couch. "Were you expecting 
company?" 

Even in the dim light of the curtained living room, Liz was dazzling. The 
coffee table was spread with a plate of canape's, a bottle of champagne, and 
two glasses and was lit by two candles. Liz's smile shone through the 
candlelight as she sat buffing her polished nails. She looked like a movie 
star dressed up for a bizarre, erotic movie. Her black hair was piled high 
in curls on her head, a few of which hung down in spiral tendrils as did her 
long, silver earrings. Her face was almost professionally made up with very 
dark red lipstick, green eye shadow, and artificially long lashes and 
eyebrows. Spider thin straps of black cut deeply into her soft white 
shoulders to support the black cups of her brassiere, abulge with creamy 
white breasts and cut low enough so that her prominent and lipstick-reddened 
nipples were on display over the cups. She wore high-heeled black patent 
leather boots of knee length, all agleam in the candlelight, and from their 
tight tops came sooty black hose, cobweb thin and skin tight, whose darker 
welts were stretched taut by thin black garter straps, decorated with tiny 
black satin bows and attached to an extremely tight black satin waist 
cincher that laced up the front. Black bikini panties, only slightly less 
transparent than her hose, completed Liz's brazenly exotic attire. Helen 
felt frumpy and more than just a little uncomfortable as she stood gaping at 
her. 

"Just waiting for you," said Liz, and patted the couch beside her. "Paul 
isn't here. He went out somewhere. And he did not cut the hedge. Come sit 
with me, Helen. You must be tired after your hard morning's work waiting on 
all those women. Come sit and have some refreshments while we talk about 
exactly what it will take to keep our little Paul in line." 

"I should take a shower. There's, uh, housework to be done," Helen murmured, 
quite alarmed at the giddy feelings sweeping through her, but nevertheless 
moving closer to the couch and the alluringly wicked woman on it. 

Liz poured the wine as she came, handed her a glass as she sat down on the 
edge of the couch cushion, and Helen gave a start that spilled some cold 
liquor on her bosom when Liz's hand came to a warm rest on her knee. "You're 
jumpy, tense. Just relax," said Liz, frankly caressing Helen's nyloned knee. 
"We're all alone. No one can see us. 

We can relax together and be all ready for Paul when he comes back. Why 
don't you slip that dress off and be comfortable." 

"Oh, no. I'm .. . fine," said Helen, quite unable to take her gaze from the 
smiling Liz, fighting feelings of unnamed fear though their one-sided 
relationship was clearly established. 

"Nonsense," said Liz. "That dress looks as ugly as it does uncomfortable. 
It's got to come off. Turn around, dear." 

Helen sighed and turned around, and the sound of the zipper being drawn down 
was coincident with a wild shiver of anticipation that rose up her spine. 
She liked having her pussy licked. There was no denying that and no denying 
Liz's fondness for it. They were alone, safe, and the setting Liz had 
provided would only add to Helen's sensuous pleasures once she'd spread her 
legs for the lesbian's hungry mouth. She quaffed her champagne and let the 
dress be peeled over her shoulders, telling herself to relax and enjoy it 
while she could. 

Liz told her to stand up and she did, and her dress was drawn down her 
increasingly glowing body by hands that touched her with all the 
appreciation she'd ever known from a man. The glow increased by leaps and 
bounds when those hands roved warmly over her panty-clad buttocks, slipped 
up inside the skimpy pink garment to fondly squeeze the mounds that were 
already feeling all buttery soft and nice. 

"We'll just take off this garter belt and your hose, too," Liz said, fingers 
working within Helen's panties at the belt's snaps, while Helen stood 
smiling dreamily into her familiar living room. "You're certainly a pretty 
thing," said Liz, as Helen's nylons came whispering down legs that seethed 
with goosefleshy good feelings. Her cunt was seething and swelling too, 
knowing that soon it would be kissed and sucked by a mouth that knew just 
how to do it, just how to please Helen best in place of the man she really 
needed. Just let it all happen, that was the thing to do, as quickly as 
possible, and then get on to the other business at hand, watching her son 
flinch and jump under the sting of the whip. 

"Sit down, dear," said Liz, and pulled Helen down on the couch beside her 
again. Once again Helen was dazzled by the startling good looks of her 
sister, and then she was shocked to the core as she was swept into strong, 
soft arms and kissed hotly and passionately, full on the mouth. 

She tried to struggle, but her arms were locked between them. She tried to 
twist away from the unwanted homosexual kiss, but Liz in her passion was 
just too strong for her. 

She tried to fight against the enveloping warmth and softness and the deeply 
penetrating perfume of the woman whose full passion had suddenly come to the 
fore, but this was of no use either. She felt she might be drowning in a sea 
of warm, good feelings, and though she knew it was terribly wrong she ceased 
her strugglings and softened her mouth and let Liz's searching tongue in to 
reach clear down to the depth of her bowels. 

"That's it," Liz murmured against her lips. "Relax and enjoy life. You're 
such a pretty thing and you do so love to have your cunt kissed, eh? Isn't 
that right?" 

"Y-Yes," Helen murmured, as kisses rained about her mouth and hands played 
expertly about her trembling body. 

"And you like me to play with your tits like this, don't you? And you like 
to touch mine, too." 

"No! No, please, I..." Helen tried to struggle again, but her hands were 
pushing against Liz's big soft tits and she was so completely enveloped in 
the lesbian's smothering warm embrace that there was no sense fighting it 
and even a certain wicked pleasure in joining into it to a certain extent. 
"Yes!" she exclaimed, clutching at Liz's big tit now, then letting herself 
take off into a wild flight into fancy by clasping her hps to the nipple 
when her head was pushed down' to it. 

"Nice, eh?" Liz murmured, feeding Helen more tit, while with her free hand 
she reached the sodden crotchband of her pink panties and made the tender, 
swollen flesh within even more tender. "I'm going to kiss you there soon, 
eh?" said Liz, while Helen crushed the black-lingerie clad body to her, 
quite wild in her anticipation and in the crazy newness of it all. "And 
you're going to kiss my pussy, too," said Liz, and Helen froze, slowly 
disengaged her mouth from Liz's breast, and felt all the fear returning. 

"Oh, no," she said, in a trembling voice. "No, Liz, don't ask me to do 
that," she said, shaking her tousled head. "I'm just not that way." 

Liz smiled and nodded. "You'll do it. You'll try it once, if only through my 
panties. You will," said Liz, as Helen continued to slowly shake her head, 
"you will if you ever expect to feel this mouth on your pussy again." 

The dark lesbian beauty loomed closer and her able mouth touched Helen's 
lips. She knew very well she had to feel it on her cunt again, and if the 
price to pay for that was a quick peck between her sister's legs, that price 
was cheap enough. 

"Ill do it, I suppose, but," she said, "tsk, this isn't fair, you know. I 
mean, getting me all worked up like this, making me expect to have my ... 
well, my pussy kissed, and then making me sort of pay for it." 

"And in advance," said Liz. ''No, not fair at all, but you'll do it, won't 
you." 

Yes, she'd do it, and no nonsense about it. She pushed away from Liz, vowing 
to have her out of her house sooner than planned, and she pushed back the 
coffee table and got down on her knees on the deep shag rug as Liz spread 
her legs. Of course she was stroking her lovely thighs with her hands, 
smiling bewitchingly, rotating her hips very softly and doing all she could 
to lure Helen into an even greater display of lesbianism, but Helen was too 
smart to fall for that. With great outer calm, she placed her hands on her 
sister's knees, leaned forward, and pressed a prim'mouth against a tight 
black-furred cunt that was clearly discernible through stretched black 
panties. 

"MOM!" cried a too familiar voice behind her, and Helen's blood rushed cold. 
"MOM, WHAT'RE YOU DOING TO AUNTIE LIZ?" Paul shouted, and Helen whipped 
about on the floor, cringing back between those nyloned legs, never so 
shaken before in her entire life. 

"I was just... We were just..." 

"YOU WERE KISSING HER BETWEEN HER LEGS!" he said, advancing angrily. "WHY, 
MOM? WHY WERE YOU DOING THAT?" 

"I wasn't. You don't understand." She turned to Liz, but no help was coming 
from that quarter and her flustered confusion took another great leap. 

"YOU'RE A QUEER!" he said, and she flinched back from him. "I'VE HEARD ABOUT 
WOMEN LIKE YOU! WHY WERE YOU DOING THAT IF YOU'RE NOT A QUEER??? I OUGHTA 
SPANK YOU LIKE YOU SPANKED ME!" 

"Paul, please listen," she said, but he'd hear none of it as he paced about 
the room, raving at her. Once again in her great consternation she turned to 
her sister for help, and Liz said, "I'm sure it did look bad to him. He's 
obviously not going to get over it till he's punished you in some way." 

"Punished ME!?" 

"For his sake, a spanking would be the easiest, the best way out." 

"Him? Paul? Spank ME? Liz, I couldn't!" 

"You'll just have to," said Liz, in such a calmly commanding manner that 
Helen found herself being helped to her feet even as she babbled her 
protests, and led around to the other side of the coffee table. She felt 
cold as ice and hot as fire at the same time as her sister tried to soothe 
and advise her and as her son continued to pace and rant and accuse. "I just 
can't allow this," she said, but already she was on her knees again, now 
with her tensed and trembling loins against the edge of the coffee table. 

"It won't last long. It's the best thing," said Liz and cleared the middle 
of the long table and went around it to sit down on the couch and take 
Helen's shaking hands in hers. 

"Won't you explain to him? Can't you?" Helen pleaded, with her eyes as well 
as with her words, gazing up into Liz's sadly smiling face, seeing her shake 
her lovely head. "He ... he won't do it hard, will he?" said she, when she'd 
reconciled herself to it at last. 

"Just hard enough. Paul, use that bamboo there by the door." 

"No! No-o-o-o-o," said Helen, and began to weep. 

"Just hold onto me, dear," said Liz. "Hold onto my hands." 

"Wait! WAIT!" Helen screamed, but already it was too late as SLASH, SLASH, 
SLASH, the limber bamboo rod she'd bought herself bit through her panties to 
imprint three streaks of fire across her upturned buttocks. In those 
gasping, shockings instants Helen had a sudden clarity of vision that told 
her this might all have been_ planned, but before she could act on that, 
SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, the rod streaked her again with fire, and all semblance 
of rationale fled. 

"She needs it on her bare ass!" said Paul, and Helen's pink panties were 
yanked far up in her crotch, baring her bottocks to half a dozen more strong 
cuts from the rod. 

"Don't! Make him stop! That's enough!" she screamed, humping forward against 
the coffee table as the blows rained down on her. She grasped for any 
support she could, found her arms thrown round black-covered hips, and 
blubbered and sobbed into the wide hollow of deeply perfumed loins as, 
SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, the fiery streaks mounted. 

"Think she's had enough, Paul?" said Liz. "Enough! Enough!" Helen sobbed, 
hugging her possible savior to her. 

"Heck, I only just got started," said her son behind her, and now her 
panties were ripped down from her hips, their tangled crotchband torn out 
from between her fear-swollen cuntlips, and, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, 
SLASH, the cruel thin rod scored again and again on her totally defenseless 
buttocks, surely flame-red all over now and swollen to twice their normal 
size. 

"Paul, don't you think that's enough?" said Liz's cool voice through the 
rain of hot blows. "Don't you think you should do something to make her feel 
good now?" she said, running soothing hands over Helen's sobbing back as 
Helen continued to sob and blubber into her crotch. 

THUH-WHACK! he hit her again, she felt his whip fall from his hand to her 
leg, and she mouthed warm kisses all over her sister's crotch, blubbering, 
"Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you." 

"It's all right, dear." Liz's hands stroking her head were wonderfully 
comforting. "He's gone for a while. You can relax now. Let me get up for a 
moment, dear." 

Helen shakily pushed herself up with her hands on the table, fearfully 
looked behind her to see that Paul indeed was gone from the room. When she 
turned back to face her sister she saw her big hips moving from side to side 
as her hands pushed the tight black bikini panties down. Her gaze became 
riveted to Liz's cunt as it was bared, black fur all matted from the tight 
panties, vulva visible as a glistening pink split just under the fur. 

Helen's lips were very dry and she licked them, staring, hands moving 
nervously over her torso to find that her bra had come loose and her tits 
were fully engorged and very sensitive on their ends. "Ah-h-h-h," said Liz, 
fluffing out her matted pubic hair, then spreading the pink, pink cuntlips 
and sighing again as she rubbed the swollen tissues with her fingertips. 

"I got all hot," said Liz, and sat down on the edge of the couch with her 
thighs wide open and her fingers still moving on her cunt. "When he was 
spanking you and you were kissing me here I got all hot, Helen, like you 
were before. Know what I mean?" 

"Uh-huh." Helen leaned forward with her hands on Liz's knees again, nostrils 
flaring in the thick aura of her sister's scent. "But he'll . . . spank me 
again if he catches me doing it to you," she said. 

"That's right, dear," said Liz, and ran her fingers through Helen's blonde 
hair, and Helen's eyes fluttered closed as she came forward to dip her 
tongue, then her lips, in the soft wet flesh of her sister's big cunt. 

"Mrara. Nice," said Liz, and shifted her hips closer. 

Nice?, thought Helen. It was absolutely heavenly, the sexiest thing she'd 
ever experienced, despite its depravity, and she sucked and tongued and 
kissed with greater and greater ardor, fully sharing in the lovely pleasures 
she knew she was bringing her sister and tensing but not quitting when 
Paul's voice sounded behind her. 

"Gosh darn, she's at it again. Worse than ever. What am I gonna do about 
her, Auntie Liz? Just spank her some more, I guess." 

"Not now. Not yet. Let her enjoy herself now," said Liz, very obviously 
enjoying herself, if her movements and the tone of her voice were any 
indication. "You make her feel better now," she said, and Helen's 
cunt-kisses grew still more ardent in her gratitude. 

Helen gave a start, then sighed and wriggled her sore backside most happily 
as she felt her son's rough hand smoothing soothing cold cream all over her 
scalded asscheeks. It was pure luxury, it was as good as any sex she'd ever 
known, and she spread her knees more widely on the rug and placed more 
grateful kisses on Liz's slowly humping cunt. 

"Uh!" She grunted, but she didn't stop kissing when Paul pushed one slippery 
finger, then two of them, inside the opened ring of her anus. This was 
horrible, far beyond any humiliation of having a spanking at the hands of 
her son, and Helen panted and writhed in shameful embarrassment as he probed 
them all around there. 

"Don't DO that to me!" she hoarsely cried, as the fingers tried to stretch 
her anus and feel all about inside it, and she was told to shush and her 
head was yanked down into the fetid crotch, while behind her her son giggled 
and went right on shaming her. 

Helen struggled and pushed against soft flesh now, lucid again for the 
moment but terribly weakened by those awful fingers up her butt that dug 
deeper and probed farther despite her every effort to expel them. She knew 
very well she'd been conspired against and she drew in a breath to shout for 
the police when the fingers were abruptly oozed out of her and she sighed 
all over in deep relief. Then immediately a hard, hot thing was pushed 
inside her feverish hot asshole and she was screaming, "Don't let him DO 
THAT to me! He's got his thing in my REAR!" 

"Hush, Helen, you love it," said her perfidious sister, and held her tight 
against her. 

"Jeezus-Peezus, REALLY tight and hot and soft!" her fiendishly pumping son 
grunted from behind her, digging hard fingers ito her hips, digging a harder 
prick into her asshole, and Helen collapsed into insanity again and the 
orgasms flowed and flowed. 

"Uh-huh! Uh-HUH!" Helen grunted, as Liz said, "Fuck her good, Paul. She 
really loves it." 

"In my ass!? In my a-a-A-ASSSSSS!!!" she moaned, as her panting boy 
excitedly said, "I'm gonna cum! Man, am I EVER gonna cum!" 

"Aw-w-w-whg!" Helen groaned, from the depths of her soul, as she very 
distinctly felt and reacted to each hot spurt of her son's jism plunging up 
her orgasming butthole along with his ramming, driving, wonderful cock. And, 
"No-o-o-o-o," she moaned, as his digging fingers relaxed their hold on her 
hips, and his steel-hard cock oozed beautifully out of her sucking asshole. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

"Is she okay, Auntie Liz? Did I hurt her?" 

"She's fine. Your mother's just resting. " 

"Maybe I did it too much to her, but I just couldn't stop." 

"She loved it, Paul. She's just resting. Did you feelgood?" 

"Wow! Terrific. Can I cuntfuck her now?" 

"Not and do her any justice just now. You've got to rest a bit too. And both 
of you have got to be inspired again. You know she kissed my cunt, Paul. A 
lot." 

"Yeah. Was she good? Did she do it as good as you used to do it to her? As 
good as I do it to you? Did she?" 

"Ummm. It felt nice. I came a lot. But you know what she gets for kissing my 
cunt." 

"Yep. Another good spanking." 

"Oh, no," said Helen, dragging herself up from out of a delicious lethargy, 
unable to keep from speaking in a little girl's voice. "No more spankings. 
I've been good, done what you wanted," she said, and lifted her terribly 
drowsy head from the warm wet nest of her sister's crotch. "No, I couldn't 
take another spanking," she muttered, pleading, and brushed back her tangled 
blonde hair with a weary hand and heaved herself up on her knees, feeling as 
if she weighed a thousand pounds. "Don't. Please don't spank me any more." 

"Her bra's come undone," said Liz. "Look, Paul," she said, and pulled the 
sagging pink garment down over Helen's weak, shaking arms. "Doesn't your 
mother have lovely tits?" 

"Yeah," said Paul, pinching the handiest one, completely ignoring his 
mother's feeble attempts to fend him off. "Real nice tits. They don't stick 
out as good as yours do, Auntie Liz, but they're just about as big, and 
they're nice and soft and white." 

"They look whiter against her tan." 

"Yeah," said Paul, feeling, pinching, hefting, despite Helen's little 
whining protests as she stood swaying on her knees, fighting new stirrings 
of insidious lust. 

"How would they look with some nice pink stripes across them," said Liz, and 
Helen hung her head and silently wept as Paul's hand left her tits to pick 
up a fresh new whip. 

Helen didn't even hear the sounds of this whipping, hardly even felt the 
pain. She could see the bamboo cane as a blur as it swung down on her tits 
and she could see them quiver and redden with the repeated impacts, but all 
she really felt was a growing warmth within her for the scourging she was 
getting. She gazed dully down at herself through tears that continued to 
flow, and she saw her bright pink nipples growing stiffer and stiffer with 
each of the blurred blows. From the corner of her eye she could see Paul's 
small white prick flopping around with his vigorous slow movements, and she 
could see it too as it slowly grew rigid, hard, ready for further 
humiliating her. She couldn't let that happen to her again. She couldn't be 
taken from behind like that, and so she reached up and caught the next 
descending blow of the cane and cast it aside, then grasped her son's cock 
and pulled it into her mouth before any command was issued. 

Liz laughed and said, "I'll bet it's the first cock she ever sucked, but 
she's doing a good job of it." 

"Jeez, look at her go!" said Paul. "She really likes it." 

"Mmmmm!" Helen said, brows knit, concentrating her all on the perfectly 
delicious hard cock in her moving mouth. 

"Can you cum again this soon?" said Liz, bending forward to watch more 
closely as Helen of the striped tits and ass, makeup smeared with tears and 
hair all tumbled down, sucked so avidly on cock. 

"Feels like it." He grunted and thrust more of it into Helen's eagerly 
accepting mouth. "Yeah. It sure ... does ... FEEL LIKE IT!" he said, and his 
words dissolved into grunts as he pistoned a copiously spurting prick into 
his mother's mouth, holding her by the head lest she try to quit at this 
point, though there was little chance of this in spite of Liz's tittering 
laughter and the choking gobs of cum that had to be swallowed. 

Helen orgasmed again, many times now, each one coinciding with another fresh 
spurt of boy-cum from her only son's hard, throbbing cock. Eyes closed, body 
glowing and cumming everywhere, she sucked that beautiful cock to dryness, 
knowing that this wholly wonderful act of supplication would bring her the 
ecstasy of goodness that would rival the ecstasy of orgasm she felt down to 
her toes and fingers and to the roots of her hair. And at last, at long 
marvelous last, his prick has ceased its spurtings and oozings and her body 
dwelt in the afterglow of ecstasy, and she let it slip from her swollen lips 
and she slumped down across the coffee table, totally cleansed and pure once 
again. 

"Good blow-job, Paulie?" 

"Terrific. I came a quart." 

"At least. I think we'd best take her into the bathroom now, clean her up, 
get her ready for some more good times or some more punishment, whatever it 
is she ought to have." 

"No more punishment. No more," Helen muttered, as her limp sweating body was 
lifted to its feet and she was staggered down the strangely familiar hall 
under the support of these two people who seemed to be her sister and her 
son. 

She was thrust into an icy cold shower bath and brought to senses that were 
not truly hers. She could taste her son's cloying sperm in her throat and 
her sister's musky twat on her lips, and she could feel the welts on her 
shivering body, but she was no longer the woman she had been, and she didn't 
like what she'd been turned into. Helen was ready to crash through the 
shower door to escape from the icy blast of water and get at the laughing 
couple outside, when the door to the shower was opened and the water turned 
to hot, and in moments her shivering body was blasted with steam and she was 
screaming to be let out. 

They let her out. She collapsed in their arms, whoever they were, and she 
watched through dripping lank hot hair as her wrists were trussed up with a 
nylon stocking and this was tied to another stocking and she was placed 
astraddle the toilet and her arms were stretched up over her head till her 
swollen ass could no longer rest on the toilet seat. Higher still her arms 
were hoisted, her weak protests of course ignored by the giggling pair of 
tormentors, until she was well clear of any support from behind and had to 
rely on her stretched arms and her kitten-weak legs to hold herself up. And 
then at a command from the woman who claimed to be her sister something 
awfully hard and slim, not nearly so comforting as her son's warm cock, was 
pushed slickly up her already violated asshole and her insides were being 
bloated enormously with liquid coldness. 

The sensation was so very awful that in spite of her debilitations she had 
to fight against it, straining and churning and sobbing and pleading, and 
still the awful filling process went on, with devilish laughter as its 
background. It stopped then, the hard cruel thing was eased out of her, and 
as much as she strained and fought against it, the big bulge in her belly 
all came rushing out at once, along with the contents of her bladder as she 
squatted over the flushing toilet, weakly beating her head against the 
commode. 

"No more. Not again," she mumbled, but the hard thing was pushed up in her 
again, and again the awful filling and emptying went on, and yet again, and 
again, till what little was left of her strength was flushed on down the 
toilet with the cool clear liquid running out of her by the gallon. Helen 
was truly cleansed by then, with nothing of any slightest evil nature left 
within her, and then again they filled her to bursting and this time told 
her to hold it inside her, and they untied her and stood her up over the 
porcelain bowl, facing them. 

"I can't hold it. I can't!" she whined. "Nice blonde cunt," said Liz, and 
stooped and kissed it, sucked on its clit, and immediately brought Helen to 
moaning orgams. "An awful lot like mine," she said, and did it again, while 
Helen with her bound wrists whimpered and orgasmed and held the liquid 
obediently within her. 

"Let's see," said Paul, and now he stooged down, hiding his lovely hard 
prick, and sucked on the cunt to make it cum, and again Helen obediently 
held it in, though it was much harder now with her dearly beloved, much 
maligned son doing it to her. 

But then at last when he rose, smacking his lips, she shook her bedraggled 
head and said, "I can't. I just can't hold it in any longer. I'm sorry. I 
just CANT!" 

"We'll fix that," said Liz, and Helen's tears flowed in earnest as her 
tensed buttocks were sharply pinched together to dam up the impending flood. 

They both got down and sucked her cunt. Their laughter flowed as copiously 
as Helen's tears and orgasms as now she had no reserve whatsoever to call 
upon to hold in the gushing, exploding feelings in her overwrought body. 
Naked? There was no time to think of that. Her son and her sister doing 
terrible things to her? What did that matter. Wrists bound and confined in a 
tiny bathroom, Helen was expanding into the universe, and then quite 
abruptly her pinched buttocks were released and it all flowed out of her in 
a rushing cool torrent and she knew very well she was cumming as no other 
human being ever had before. 

"Can I fuck her now? Cuntfuck her?" Paul eagerly asked. 

Helen tossed back her bedraggled head and laughed, as her sister said, "You 
can do anything you wish with your mother. But let's get her into bed first, 
hmm?" 

Helen's bound wrists were undone. That didn't matter. Neither did it matter 
that she couldn't walk by herself and had to be supported between them to 
that wholly comfortable place where she knew she'd be able to rest at last, 
her own sweet prominently elevated and the bright pink expanse of her crotch 
was open and ready for anything these two chose to give her. 

"Your mother's really pretty there, isn't she?" said Liz, and petted and 
stroked the pink and gold gash. 

"Boy, she really is," said Paul, and got up and bent his face down to place 
a zigzag row of kisses on the clearly exposed flesh. 

Helen took deep, deep breaths and said, "I'm ready now. I'm very wet. And .. 
. and I'd like to have this over with." 

Paul moved aside and his hand went to a cock that wasn't quite so soft any 
more, and Liz winked at him and took his place behind his mother. She was 
standing up on her knees, though, and her cool demeanor belied the high 
excitement she felt as she placed one hand in the small of Helen's swayed 
back and took the free end of the dildo in her other. She placed the end 
accurately, gave a sharp shove of her hips, and stuck in the mushroom shaped 
knob. Helen uttered a sharp gasp, threw back her head, then lowered it 
again, impaled on two inches of artificial cock. 

"How does it feel?" Liz solicitously asked. 

"It's all right," said Helen in clipped words. 

"It doesn't hurt you, does it?" said Liz, poised with still a great deal of 
dildo left to go, and with her hands moving softly over her sister's lovely 
white ass. 

Liz began to move. Not with the in and out strokes that Paul expected, but 
with a slow rotation of her hips, easing Helen's end of the cock into an 
ever more comfortable fit just inside the portal of her stretched cunt. She 
kept a nice warm hold on Helen's hips. From time to time Liz would move her 
big white hips back so that a good six inches of the big thing would slide 
out of her open, black-haired cunt, and then she'd smile and ease her hips 
forward again to suck in her half of the thing with obvious pleasure. 
Crouching down on the bed, Paul could see his mother's cunt-lips wrapped 
round the plastic cockshaft as if they were sucking on it. Liz stopped her 
hip movements to inquire, "Can you take a little more, honey?" 

Helen nodded. "Uh-huh." 

"Darling, I don't want to go on if it's really unpleasant for you." 

Helen took a deep, shuddering intake of breath and said, "No, it's all 
right. I guess the worst is over with now." 

"Helen, I'm really going to fuck you hard with it. Sure you want to go on?" 

Again the deep sigh. "I don't have a choice, do I?" 

"Not really," said Liz, and pushed two more inches of plastic cock in her. 

"Oh, God!" Helen exclaimed, and momentarily threw back her lovely blonde 
head. 

"Too much?" said Liz, easing it in and out, still making those slow rotating 
movements of her strong, wide hips and her heavy round buttocks. "It's all 
right. It's ... It's . .. feeling better." 

"Better and better all the time," said Liz, and introduced another two 
inches of cock to her sister's cunt. 

Paul's interest was growing with his mother's enjoyment, and this was clear 
to see. The prick in his hand was fully hard once again as he watched his 
exotically garbed aunt fuck his nude mother from behind. 

Liz's sleek hose were still drum-tight and her black waist cinch had her big 
buttocks standing out even more prominently, striped as they were with the 
taut black garter straps. Though one shoulder strap had fallen, her black 
bra was still in place, pushing up her luscious big tits to a point where 
they looked as if they might spill down on his mother's naked back at any 
moment. 

Liz's hair was only slightly disarranged and her make-up was intact as she 
grinned down at the shivering blonde woman under her, kneading her hips with 
both hands while she fucked her. And Helen was doing more than just 
shuddering now. Her pendant tits were slowly swinging and her elevated hips 
were moving in a slow rotation that was in time with the leisurely 
penetrations of the cock in her cunt. 

He could barely see her face through her hanging hair, but he thought he 
detected the hint of a dreamy smile on it. There was a fine pink flush on 
her body that tempered the residual red strips on her upturned ass. She was 
beautiful. She looked like a bride, and Paul looked forward to the time when 
he'd have his mother in that position. 

Liz pushed forward and fed Helen her full half of the shared dildo, and 
Helen arched her butt up and exclaimed, "Ah!" 

Liz stopped, black loins nested against Helen's ass, and said, "Too much, 
eh?" 

"No. Really. I'm amazed," Helen said, clearly panting now, and with her hips 
in constant small motion. Liz drew back and gave her another big push with 
it and she fell down on her elbows, exclaiming, "Oh! Ah!" 

"I think she's really taking to it, Paul," said Liz, easing a full eight 
inches of the glistening thing in and out of Helen's slippery cunt, and 
taking time to treat herself with a sliding insertion from time to time. "I 
think your mother likes to be fucked with my dildo." 

"Do you like it, Mom? Do you?" he eagerly inquired. 

Her tits and her face were mashed against the bed. She was panting heavily 
and there was no mistaking the deep ecstasy written all over her lovely 
face. Eyes closed, she nodded, panting, and she said, "not as good as your 
cock in me, Paul, but... oh-h-h, God, it's just lovely, LOVELY!" 

As soon as Helen said this, Liz's bosom visibly swelled, and she took very 
firm hold on Helen's hips and began to use the thing between them in 
earnest. Lovely head thrown back, triumphant grin on her face, her heavy 
hips moved with great force and amazing rapidity as she demonstrated her 
expertise with the double-ended dildo. She was able to work both ends of the 
thing in and out of both of their cunts while Helen squealed deliriously and 
clutched at the covers with both hands and did her best to keep her gushing 
cunt up high as the perfect target for those deep, hard thrusts. The cunt 
juice was running down her long legs by the spoonful as the heavy cock 
squelched loudly between them, both women going wild with it, but Liz still 
in control. 

Her bra had slipped so that her tits were free and bouncing heavily. Her big 
buttocks were bouncing and jouncing too as she fucked like crazy, fingers 
digging deeply into Helen's hips, cock squirting back and forth between 
them. Paul longed to be in the middle of it somehow, but could only lie 
there in awe at the exploding passions of these two mature women he loved so 
dearly. 

"Yes! YES!" Liz shouted, and it was obvious she was experiencing an orgasm 
of gigantic proportions, one in which Helen just as obviously shared. Paul 
was sure the peak of their pleasures was passed then, and equally sure 
they'd be too exhausted to let him use his dick on either of them. But he 
was surprised by them again when Liz's thrusts drove Helen flat on her belly 
on the bed, and then the two acted as one in scrambling about for a new 
position for their deep pleasures. 

Panting and pushing, they helped each other around till their heads were at 
opposite ends of the bed and their crotches intimately pushed together. Paul 
couldn't even see the dildo between then as they strained their cunt-lips 
together, each one hauling up at the foot of the other. "It's so deep!" his 
mother cried. "I can feel it clear up in my throat!" she croaked, and fell 
to kissing Liz's booted foot as she tugged on her leg to bring them closer 
still. 

"Yes! Yes!" Liz triumphantly cried. "Cum with me now. Right now!" she 
commanded, and both of them shivered and shuddered together, cunt locked to 
cunt, soft bodies writhing and sweating together, expressions of 
indescribable ecstasy on their faces. 

It was Helen who sighed and went limp first after the grinding mutual 
orgasm. Then Liz relaxed too, laughed and kissed the bare foot in her hands, 
and got up on one elbow. She sat up and helped Helen do the same, with the 
dildo still impaling them both, and with their legs nicely nested together 
and their big tits brushing warmly against each other, they smiled and 
kissed and Liz said, "Well?" 

"Honey, it was just wonderful!" Helen exclaimed, and kissed her older sister 
most warmly. "You always know what's best for me. I was such a silly goose 
to be afraid of it. I'm ready for anything you ... or Paul wants me to do 
from now on." 

Liz kissed her on the nose. "Don't be too ready. Sometimes it's nice when a 
girl puts up a fight. It provides a little . .. inspiration." 

Helen hugged Liz very hard, mashing their tits together, tongueing her 
deeply, but then she pushed her away and made a pouting face and said, 
"Well, that's the end of that. I don't know what you two did to me, put 
drugs in my morning coffee or what, but I do know I'm back to my old self 
again and completely through with all this crazy sex. And you are too, 
Paul." She shook a warning finger at him, then controlled a deeply 
pleasurable shudder as she eased her cunt off the dildo inside it. 

"You're much too young to be having sex, especially with your aunt and your 
mother. The very idea! Tsk. You ought to be ashamed of the way you took 
advantage of me, ganging up on me and taking my clothes off and spanking me. 
Making me do all sorts of things I just don't do under any circumstances. 
And that enema was just awful! And now you want to fuck your aunt. Well, 
that's out of the question completely. You get out and cut that hedge. Right 
now!" 

"Aw, Mom!" he said, before he saw the mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Can't 
I do it just once to her? Please?" he said. 

She sighed, reached out and grasped his cock. "It is awfully hard," she 
said, and reached the other way and laid her fingers on Liz's waiting cunt. 
"And she is awfully soft. Of course there's no way you could satisfy her 
after our dildo fucking. Then again, there's no way you could cut the hedge 
with a cock like this trying to poke out of your jockstrap. Once would be 
all right, I suppose, big bed. 

She fell heavily upon it, sprawled on her face, and could have gone to sleep 
at once had they not been there surrounding her and talking about her. 

"Can I cunt fuck her now, Auntie Liz? You said I could." 

"Soon, dear. God but you're beautiful. But let's soften her up a bit first. 
Hmm?" 

"I'm ready," Helen muttered. "Oh, so very ready," she said, and rolled over 
on her back, hooked her hands under her knees, and hauled up her shapely 
legs till her cunt and her asshole and every part of her was all split wide 
and open and ready for anything they would give to her. 

It was an electric dildo she got. Liz shoved it right on up her splayed 
asshole and turned it on full as Helen moaned, "No, no, no. It's cock I 
want, not that thing. Give me, gimme, gimme, cock,cock, cock." 

Paul got up and give it to her. That huge big battery-operated vibrator was 
immense in her asshole, five times as big as his prick, but it didn't begin 
to compare with the deep deep spreading feeling of her son's fine young 
hardest cock jamming impolitely into her long-suffering cunt and bringing 
her the complete, complete exhaustion she'd always sought for, without 
knowing it. 

He slammed that cock into her with wonderful savagery while she hugged him 
and kissed him and gleefully asked for more. "Oh, God, that feels good! Uh, 
UH, UNF! I didn't know how bad I needed to get fucked. Cum in me, baby. Give 
me all your good, hot jism!" 

He was working fast and furious, tight little nuts drumming hard against 
Helen's lovely pink vulva as his dick plunged again and again in her gushing 
twat. But Liz could see that his efforts were flagging now, and he confirmed 
this as he gasped, "Don't know... if I can ... do it again this quick." 

"Let me help," said Liz. Paul rested, panting, for a few moments as Liz 
helped Helen draw up her legs so that her knees touched her lolling tits. 
Helen squealed as she did this, for her new postiion made the buzzing dildo 
squirt out of her well tickled asshole. Liz laughed as she picked it up, and 
then it was Paul's turn to squeal as the thing was inserted into his 
asshole. He didn't have to be told to start moving again. 

"Oh, this is glor-r-r-rious," said Helen, holding her crotch wide open to 
get all the pounding it could from her newly frenzied son. 

"Cumming?" said Liz, as she held the dildo up Paul's bum, working it around, 
keeping him going. 

"All the time!" said Helen. "This fucking is so good I keep cumming ALL THE 
TIME!!!" 

"Me, too!" Paul gasped, a small cyclone of activity now as his wet hard 
prick pistoned in and out of his mother's cunt with blinding speed. Then he 
cried out, "Ahh! AHH! AH-H-H-H-H-H!!!", and his body arched forward like a 
bow, quivering all over, and he hung there for long, intense moments while 
his mother's legs and arms wrapped around him and she hugged him and kissed 
him and thanked him for the wonderful fucking he'd given her. 

Helen's long legs flopped down on the bed and Paul rolled off her, his 
cum-covered prick still stiff, but dwindling in size and then falling limply 
over his thigh even as the two sisters watched. 

"What a shame," said Helen. "Now he doesn't have any left for you, Liz." 

"I will," Paul croacked. "Just gimme a few minutes, and I will." Helen got 
up on one elbow and reached out a hand to her sister. "I feel like such a 
greedy pig," she said. "You're probably in a terribly frustrated state by 
now. Would it help if I..." She looked down at Liz's cunt and wet her lips 
with her tonguetip. "Would it help if I... kissed you there a little? I 
really wouldn't mind." 

"You're sweet," said Liz, "but I'm really in the mood for a little fucking 
right now." 

"Gimme a couple minutes, willya?" said Paul. "Crimenentlies, I can hardly 
wait to cuntfuck you, Auntie Liz, but my prick's just not hard enough now." 

Liz leaned over and kissed him, and said, "You'll have your chance. But your 
mother and I feel like a little more fucking NOW!" 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

Two pairs of eyes watched as the big woman in black rose from the bed and 
sauntered gracefully across the room. She reached in her attache case and 
returned with an object that made Helen draw back when it was tossed on the 
bed. Paul giggled and said, "It looks like two peckers stuck together." 

"That's exactly what it is," said Liz, and picked it up and touched one of 
the bluntly tapered ends to her lips. "It's a double-ended dildo, something 
that let's two women have a good time at the same time, when their man isn't 
quite ready to join them." 

"People actually USE those things?" said Helen, aghast. 

Liz just smiled and spread her heels on the rumpled bed, and parting the 
fleshy pink lips of her cunt, she placed one end of the two-foot long device 
in the orifice of her cunt and pushed it in. 

"Ah-h-h-h." Her sigh echoed the smile on her lovely face as she eased the 
pink, two-inch diametered plastic thing in and out of her cunt, going 
somewhat deeper with it at every slow stroke. "Mmmm, it feels so nice, and 
it never goes soft. Try it?" she said to Helen. 

Her sister quickly shook her head. "I couldn't," she said, wringing nervous 
hands over her belly. 

Liz winked at Paul, and he said, "I better go get another one of those 
bamboo whips." 

"No, wait!" said Helen. "Don't do that. I just... it's just that...." 

"It's something one has to get used to," said Liz, and sighed again, slowly 
rotating her hips now in time with the slow insertions of the big, long 
artificial cock. "And it doesn't take all that long to get used to." 

Helen said, "But it's so big. It... it scares me it's so big. Do I HAVE to?" 

Liz shrugged and Paul said, "Yep." Helen sighed in resignation and rolled 
over on her back, arms and legs spread out, face turned away. 

Paul giggled again as Liz got up on her knees on the bed. "It looks weird 
sticking up out of your cunt like that, but it sorta looks like it belongs 
there. Fuck her good, Auntie Liz." But then he frowned and said, "Hey. Am I 
gonna be able to do any good for either of you after you've had a big thing 
like that in you?" 

Liz smiled and paused to kiss him. She said, "Size doesn't mean a thing. 
You'll have that proven to you soon, dear." 

He nodded and his hand went to his flaccid dick, but Liz didn't notice that. 
Her eyes were focused on her lovely blonde sister, long legs stretched out, 
flat belly and flattened tits moving with her nervously deep breathing. Liz 
liked the double-ended dildo. She liked using it on herself and she further 
liked using it on a woman who'd never had a taste of such a thing before. 
She knew she'd especially enjoy using it on her sister, always the prettier 
of the two, and the one who'd led such a staid life up until now. The 
presence of her son as witness would certainly add to the spice of the 
occasion. She eased her heavy hips down between Helen's outspread legs, 
relishing the suppressed gasp when the cold, hard shaft pressed down against 
Helen's cringing split. 

"It's plastic," she said, making things as clinical as possible at this 
point in the game. "So we've got to get it as lubricated as possible before 
I start fucking you with it. It's not hurting you, is it, dear?" 

Helen shook her head. "Go ahead. Get it over with." 

"Can't rush things," said Liz, as she worked her big white buttocks between 
Helen's splayed legs, sliding the thing that protruded from her cunt over 
the vulva and clitoris under it. 

Helen winced a few times but otherwise didn't move. Her eyes and lips were 
closed now and she was breathing heavily through her flaring nostrils as Liz 
slid the big thing up through her slit, getting it wetter and wetter as she 
went. She drew back, took the shaft in her hand, and looked down at Helen's 
pink and blonde twat as she moved the blunt end all about the portal of her 
sister's vagina. 

"Go ahead," Helen blurted. "I think I can ... take it now." 

"Oh, not this way," said Liz, still teasing the knob around Helen's vigina. 
"For your first time out with this, we'd best do it doggy-style." 

"Oh, God," Helen moaned, and covered her closed eyes with her forearm. 
"Can't you just put it in and get it over with? Dog style. I can't let you 
do it to me dog style." 

"I'll get the cane, Auntie Liz," said Paul. 

"One way or another, Helen," said Liz. "You'd best get up on your hands and 
knees." 

Liz lifted her weight from her sister's body and sat with her legs spread 
out, moving the nicely wetted false cock in and out of her cunt, watching 
and waiting and getting nice and ready. Helen clucked in disgust, but the 
color in her cheeks was due to something more than shame as she laboriously 
got up on her hands and knees on the bed. Her head and her hair were hanging 
down and so were her tits. Her belly sagged, Liz was all laid back, hands 
folded comfortably behind her head, legs spread out. Paul was on his knees 
before her cunt, quaking with hot anticipation. Helen chattered on, teasing 
and pulling both cunt and cock, thoroughly enjoying her current role as 
mistress of ceremonies. At last she put Paul's little cockhead in between 
the fleshy hps of Liz's cunt, patted him warmly on his naked ass, and said, 
"Begin, and mind you do a good job." 

The look on his face was pathetically comical as his little prick fell right 
into Liz's stretched out, commodious cunt. He embraced her, weight on her 
body, and flailed away with visibly poor results for a time, when all at 
once his face lit up and Helen's growing sympathy fled, as he said, "It got 
all tight! Wow!" 

"Cunt control," said Liz, and wrapped her big legs around him, all but 
engulfing him with their power as he picked up speed and banged away at her 
beautifully tightened cunt for all he was worth. 

Helen watched, sighing. She was starting out on a new phase in her life. It 
would be necessarily secretive, clandestine, but highly exciting and wholly 
satisfying. If anyone found out about the true relationship between the 
mother, the aunt, and the son who lived so quietly in the nondescript house, 
disgrace would be the least of her problems. Then again, who could say what 
secret lives were led in the house next door, or the one a street. It was 
food for thought, but she'd think about that later. Now she'd enjoy watching 
the lovely spectacle of the handsome, horny young boy who happened to be her 
son, fucking the beautiful, horny woman who happened to be her sister. She'd 
enjoy that, and she'd enjoy letting her thoughts wander ahead to what 
further surprises might be awaiting her once she'd talked Liz into staying 
on with them after her vacation was done with. And if she couldn't talk her 
into it, what then? 

The answer to that was easy. She'd simply force Liz to stay. She'd chain her 
up if necessary, but she wouldn't let her go now that she'd opened the door 
to the wildest sort of sex imaginable. Helen smiled, rubbing a twat that for 
the first time in its life was truly alive, and she thought about just how 
her sister would look in chains, dressed up in that flour sack she'd bought 
that day, getting all the attentions that had so drastically altered Helen's 
drab, bored existence. 


THE END
