Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 18

She walked past the window through which I looked, and she threw herself onto the bed face up. I shifted so I could get a look at her, and I saw her knees go up and one of her hands come to rest upon that chestnut-thatched pussy of hers. She clutched it with a sigh and she began to squeeze the sensitive region as if in desperation.

I couldn’t believe it. Not only did Aunt Sue have a body underneath those dingy clothes she always wore, she was also apparently about to treat that body to a bit of extracurricular masturbation. Wrong. She was masturbating herself, using one hand on her pussy, the other on her tits, and she shook and sighed as she did it, occasionally speaking to herself in a low, husky voice that was hard to hear above the creaking of bedsprings.

Part of me wanted to go away and leave her in her privacy, and part of me was almost compulsively voyeuristic. The voyeur conquered, and I leaned closer to the open window frame.

After the workout I’d enjoyed this evening, there couldn’t be a particle of unsatisfied lust left inside me. But Aunt Susan was so nice looking — her slim, understated body reminded me of darling Lilly and as I watched her attempts to bring herself a kind of release, I felt a warm smoldering fire begin to burn in my own cunt.

Part of it was due to the words she spoke as she fondled her shaking body. If it were me doing it, I’d tell you what they were, but Aunt Susan was talking, and I really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. Suffice it to say that she was carrying on a one-sided conversation with her handsome friend Lee Kinloch. She was calling to him in words of love and asking him to do some rather frisky things to her body, and I knew as I listened that I’d been right. She really did have a case for the gentleman. And obviously she didn’t know how to begin getting him. It was so pathetic, so hopeless, that my heart leaped right out of my chest and bounced through the window making for Aunt Susan’s bed and what choice did I have but to follow it?

She sat up in panic as I climbed through the window frame, and her face was white as a bleached skull. I smiled to disarm her fears and in a sec I was on the bed, holding her in my arms while she sobbed onto my halter front.

I stroked her as she clung to me, and her skin was smooth as velvet to my fingertips. Her tits rubbed one of my arms with their heated-up nipples, small but very stiff, and I didn’t care if she was my aunt. I leaned back, tilted her face towards mine, and kissed her on the mouth the way a lover kisses a loved one.

Aunt Susan stiffened, as if she weren’t sure how to respond. I kissed her passionately, my excitement growing with each moment our lips held together. The smolder in my cunt had become a hot little blaze.

“Lie down,” I said. “No girl should ever have to get herself off alone.”

Such a fragile, delicate body she had! The breasts were just the right size for my hands to cup, and they were every bit as firm as I’d suspected. I squeezed, feeling them harden in my grasp, and Aunt Susan moaned in bemused delight.

I kissed my way down her neck, out each shoulder, and finally onto the sweet curves of her tits. She smelled good, clean, and her nipples had not only the look of cherries — I could almost imagine that they tasted of those pretty fruits as well. Her tips were small but stiff, and my lips pulled them even stiffer. At the same time I put a hand on her tummy, rubbing her in circles round her navel, circles that widened with a view towards exploring her pussy hair as well.

My fingers brushed her cunny fur, found it crackling stiff with electrical sexuality, and with some reluctance I made my lips desert her tits. Aunt Susan was saying “Pam, please,” but I didn’t care to know if her plea was for stopping or continuing, it wouldn’t have mattered.

Her nipples were afire, but the rest of her felt cold as death, a smooth pale body that chilled me by its touch. But I wasn’t cold. My blood pounded through me, and my body temperature was rising by the instant. I cuddled her, stroking everywhere I could reach, and I felt her grow warmer with my nearness.

My hand attacked her slit, where it nestled shyly inside her small, neat triangle. She was sealed tightly — sure sign that her pussy didn’t get many workouts — and I had to pry with my finger to get inside. Aunt Sue wailed when I did it, and her cunt was dry as a bone. Didn’t she even know how to jiggle herself to a creamy lusciousness? I felt so sorry for the poor woman. I wanted to help her, to teach her.

She was uncomfortable when I held her gash apart with both hands and she mumbled in protest when I let my tongue move inside her portals. Talk about portals! Aunt Sue had the moat delicate, precious pussy I had ever seen. The hair on her cunt-mound concealed the little goodie-box within, but when I spread it for business, I could see that she was possessed of a lovely coral-tinted cunt, its plumbing neatly hidden within the slitted opening.

I envied her that neatness. My own inner labes tend to protrude slightly, and I can’t help worrying that by the time I’m thirty I’ll have flaps dangling to my knees or something equally gross. Aunt Susan was past thirty and she had no apparent problem — except for her dryness.

I licked her cunt, I kissed it, I dived with my tongue and stalked her elusive clitoris, and her twat finally began to get damp. This wouldn’t do at all, though. I summoned my saliva and dropped a big frothy bubble of spit into her cunt, immediately working it around and around with the tip of my tongue to lubricate her snatch more thoroughly.

It worked. As it mouth-greased her cunny, I could feel, on the tip of my tongue, a gathering fragrance of Susan’s inner-cunt juice at last flowing out to meet my spit on neutral ground. And my tongue work had caused her cunt finally to peek out of its hooded shelter.

It was a handsome clitoris, as red as her cherry nipples, and slim and rather long, just like its owner’s body. I touched it with my tongue and Aunt Susan jerked where I held her. My hand flew up to her tit for a comforting cuddle, and she covered my hand with her own to hold me there. I squeezed her tit and she squeezed my hand, and her heart fluttered behind her breast like a frightened little bird. She wasn’t speaking now, though, and the only sounds that left her lips were alternating sighs and groans, the latter strongest and most protracted when I made renewed oral attacks on her passion nubbin.

Aunt Susan’s cunt was so tight it amazed me. I wondered if she had ever been fucked, but my tongue could move into her hole without any impediment, so she was at the very least cherryless. Lots of girls break their hymens in off-the-job accidents, though, so it was no proof of anything. We could talk about it. Later.

I was like a woman possessed. The only thing that counted to me was doing a number on Aunt Susan’s pussy and giving her a climax to remember for years to come. And, you know, the funny thing was that the harder I licked her gash the more aroused I became, too. I had my hand on her titty and she was holding that hand in place, but otherwise she wasn’t providing me with any stimulation at all. And the crotch of my shorts was sopping wet, even with a borrowed tampon firmly inserted, and I could hear a squishing whenever my legs came together. It was a toss-up whether I could make Aunt Susan come before I exploded myself.

She moved her thighs as I lapped in her slit, moved them farther apart, and the slice of her cunt opened a bit more for my convenience. She seemed nervous, too, her thighs shaking as my tits rubbed them, but I couldn’t blame her for being that way. It must have been a shock to be discovered in diddling by a visiting niece and promptly seduced, I suppose. It was a shock for me, too, when I realized that a perfectly adequate body had been hiding inside Aunt Susan’s chintzy clothes all this time.

Physically she reminded me of Lilly, but Lilly’s wispy cuteness was a far cry from Aunt Susan. Sue was tall and lean, like a clothes horse, and if only her face hadn’t been so plain, she’d have had no need to lie alone in bed clutching her pussy on a warm summer’s night. She should show off that body, Goddamn it! Plenty of people would be turned on by it, turned on enough to overlook the lack of raving beauty in her face. I was turned on, wasn’t I? Don’t I have at least some taste?

We’d discuss it. I’d bring her out of her shell. But first I had a job to do.

I lifted my head from her gash and skinned out of my halter. Thank God I was braless underneath. My nipples were long points of sensitivity, and I twiddled them with my hand, watching them get even longer, feeling them get even more sensitive. Then I knelt into my work again, rubbing my book on Aunt Susan’s cunt. I slid each nipple up and down her gash, inserting each of them in turn into the glistening lushness of her pussy. It was a curious feeling. Belinda had done this to me a couple of times during the evening just past, and it was aroused me in a dreamy kind of way. Her nipples were long, like mine, and they wiggled inside me like tiny cocks. But the sensation of receiving a vaginal-nipple penetration couldn’t compare with the delight of giving it. Susan’s pussy seemed a tight, sucking mouth that wanted to gobble up my paps, and we bumped together joyously, each of us giggling and purring in our pleasure shared.

It could only go on for so long, though, until my mouth began to water for the pussy milk that flowed in ever-greater abundance, and I removed my tits from the field of battle and replaced them with my hungry, sucking mouth.

This time I didn’t fuck around. I wanted to eat her cunt out, and I ate her cunt out, by God! I used my mouth and my fingers in sly conjunctions, prodding her with my middle finger while my tongue danced a jig on her supersensitive trigger, and before I knew she was doing it, Aunt Susan popped her cookies right into my face. She dripped, she oozed, she exuded a wet cunty aroma that tickled my lips and nostrils. It lingered on my lapping tongue, on my smacking mouth, and I had only to give my thighs a tiny squeezing pressure before I was gasping and moaning my own release into her splayed, churning hole and we lay writhing in a shared orgasm.

“Wasn’t that better than doing it to yourself?” I asked her later, as we lay holding hands. She was naked, I was topless, and two of her fingers trailed now and then across the relaxed contours of my tits.

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” she sighed. “No one has ever made me feel the way you made me feel.” She kissed my cheek. “Pamela, I don’t know how…”

“Oh, come off it,” I grinned. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Aunt Sue. You’ve led a pretty wild life. I didn’t snoop, but I did happen to find your stash of porno books the other day. You know — the one about the girl and the gorilla. What was the name of it? SLUT FOR ALL SEASONS? No, it was O BEASTLY LUST. You must have been a real hell-raiser a few years ago.”

She gave me a wry smile, a bitter smile, and it wrenched my heart to see it. “So my secret’s out. The books, I meant. Oh, it won’t hurt to tell you, Pam. You might understand.”

She cleared her throat and her eyes left mine, as if she couldn’t quite bear to look at me while she confessed. I was primed to hear some spicy stuff, but that wasn’t to be.

“I was always an ugly girl, very shy, very withdrawn, and it didn’t get better. I never had a date till I was twenty-three, Pam. In graduate school. I’d given up on life and love long since. Until a boy took an interest in me. It surprised the hell out of me, Pam, and I was walking on air. He was sweet, and we dated and talked, and finally I decided he really did care. For me. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?”

“So one evening I agreed to-to have sex with him. It was horrible. I bled, I screamed, I cried. He just laughed. Wondered if I mightn’t suck his — because I was so terrible at the other thing, you know?” She struggled to compose herself. “He told me later that I’d stirred his curiosity, that dorm gossip said shy, quiet girls were better in bed, that they became real tigresses once they’d been laid out and opened up. It wasn’t true, he said. I was a rotten lay, and either frigid or a latent lesbian. I never saw him again. The books. Well. I wrote them to get it out of my system. They were all about women abused and raped and ravaged, by Negroes, by whole platoons of Army men. I hope you don’t read any more of them. I try not to think about them now.”

She smiled bravely. “I suppose he was right. I suppose I really was a latent lesbian. When you kissed me, touched me…”

I’d been through this myself and had no intention of letting Aunt Sue get any gay bees in her bonnet. “Lee Kinloch?”

She got misty-eyed, and she collapsed against me. “Lee. I think I love him, Pam. Days I don’t see him I’m not fit to live with. I dream about him every night. But what chance do I have? Look at me, for Christ’s sake! I’m ugly…”

“Has he ever given any indication that he might be interested in you? Or are you just a bull-session buddy for him?”

“Oh, he’s asked me to go out with him a few times. I always put him off. Just this evening he was telling me that tomorrow they’re showing Top Hat and Shall We Dance at the university, and later some friends of his are having a party — but I told him I couldn’t, that you weren’t feeling well — I was afraid…”

“Maybe,” I said. “Sit up straight, Aunt Susan.” She did, and I took away her glasses and undid her bunned hair. You know, she wasn’t half bad looking from the right angles. And right now she looked appealingly vulnerable, not at all the cool, collected Aunt Sue I’d met Saturday. Makeup was what she needed. And a rinse for the hair. The right clothes.

“Since you used me as an excuse, I’ll call him and tell him you’re free after all, if he’s still interested. Don’t say another word, Aunt Susan! If you want that man, I think I can get him for you. But you’ll have to help, too.”

“No, it’s ridiculous. It won’t work. He couldn’t want me. You’ll ruin everything.”

“He’s intelligent, and he’s sexy. He already likes your mind. We just have to remind him that a body goes with it. He’ll do the rest. Is his number in the book? Good. Oh, and I’ll need the car first thing in the morning. We have all day to fix you up, and we can’t waste any of it.”