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(The first in a possible series about young man and his sexy older aunt. Please comment and vote and we’ll see about continuing!)


Kyle sat listening to his grandmother’s tirade, a mix of hurt, anger and frustration on his face. He’d been down this road before; his divorced parents had sent the boy to her as a way of diverting his attention from the ugliness of their split, one of the unfortunate side effects of which was the boy’s behavior, stealing from his parents which they knew was a way of lashing out at them both.

Divorce is never easy on a child, no matter the age, it is said, and for Kyle, it was the worst time of all. As a 17 year old boy without many friends nor academic inclinations, he was at odds with himself and life in general, a shy, good-looking lad whose introvert ways troubled his parents. When he started stealing from them, they got into counseling, with and without him, but nothing seemed to work.

So on the boy’s 18th birthday, when it was clear he could make his own decisions, one of which would be to strike out on his own, they sent him to his maternal grandmother’s house for a prolonged stay, hoping her love would set him back on a suitable path. He didn’t mind, he loved his grandmother, who treated him, always, with kindness and compassion.

Eloise Anderson was a beautiful woman, and doting grandmother, who lived alone at 65, widowed for several years. But she was also stern, broaching no bad behavior on anyone’s part, particularly her grandchildren, whom she adored and would do her best to give proper guidance to. She lived comfortably, set for life by her late husband’s business, which she sold, and a sizable sum he’d left her. Kyle loved visiting her, loved the seaside home in which she lived, loved the freedom he felt there, and the ocean where he’d sit and stare for pensive hours on end.

Things had gone well, at first, when Kyle went to Granny El’s house, as he called her. But then his brooding moodiness took hold, and Eloise would try to offset in caring doses of love and discipline. And that afternoon came when she came back from shopping to find $100 missing from her sock drawer she’d had stashed away.

She didn’t want to accuse Kyle, but had no choice. No one else had access to the house, save for the cleaning people who hadn’t been there for a week. So she sat the boy down, let the facts be known, and waited for an apology and return of the money, the former far more important to her than the later.

Kyle was hurt because in truth, he hadn’t stolen the money, he never would from Granny El. She’d misplaced it, but wouldn’t realize that until much later. For now, she was furious with him, and hurt, and her words, however carefully she tried to couch them in love and support, stung him to his core.

“Honestly, Kyle, I don’t know what to say, you disappoint me so!” she cried out as he sat at the kitchen island, sullen and angry and unable to defend himself from someone so determined to hold her truth as absolute. “I’ve tried so hard, so terribly hard…”

And it went on and on, Kyle withdrawing, not speaking, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He raced from the kitchen to his room, grabbed a backpack and realized he hadn’t many clean clothes, just a pile of dirty stuff in the corner. Angrily, he stuffed what he could find into a backpack and made for the front door.

“Where are you going?” Eloise cried out.

“Anywhere but here,” he growled. “I just need…to be alone…I dunno, maybe Auntie Sue’s…”

That provided a measure of comfort to Eloise. Susan was her older sister by one year, also a widow, a pretty, thin silver-haired woman who lived a couple of miles away.

“Oh…OK…I guess that’s…” Eloise stammered, hurt by his abandoning her but understanding why, and hoping her sister would provide him some comfort and guidance that she apparently could not.

She phoned her sister as Kyle stormed out, and they had a supportive talk, Susan more than understanding of the situation. She’d raised boys of her own, now grown and gone and providing her with grandchildren, and she would welcome young Kyle into her home. She loved the boy, but hadn’t seen him for a few years, and it would be good to catch up and give the troubled teen a hopefully helpful change of scenery.

“It will be ok, El, it will, it will,” Susan said soothingly to her kid sister. “He’ll be fine here for a spell, just give it time, it will all work out.”

And she bahis firmaları waited for the boy, fixing up the spare room and changing her clothes, slipping into jean shorts and t-shirt on this warm summer early evening, and taking out a frozen casserole she’d made the week before, a quick dinner for the two of them. She was standing at the kitchen window when Kyle pulled into the yard in his battered car, smiling when she saw him get out. She couldn’t help but notice he’d turned into a handsome young man, tall and lean, a great curly mop of blonde hair atop his head, the gait of an athlete as he loped toward the house, grinning when he saw his beloved Auntie Sue come out onto the porch to greet him.

“My God, you’ve grown, has it been that long?” she laughed, hugging him close as he dropped his bag to return the embrace.

“I guess so, it’s been what, a couple of years?” he laughed, bending to tuck his head alongside hers, holding her close.

Too close, he suddenly thought, smelling her wonderful, clean scent, a mix of soap and shampoo and fresh-scrubbed skin. Terrible thoughts entered his mind he tried to shake away as he looked down her back to the marvelous little bubble ass he saw in her tight jean shorts. His cock started to stir, and he nervously broke the hug, holding her shoulders and smiling at her.

“You’ve evolved, young man!” she laughed, looking him up and down.

Her own thoughts, fleeting and forbidden, raced through her mind. Was the hug too long? Why had she felt a stirring inside her, a stirring she hadn’t felt in years, not since her husband died, not since long before when anything resembling a sex life died. Was that…could that be…a bulge in his pants? No, she thought, looking up into his beautiful blue eyes, no.

They went inside, chatting like old friends, catching up on family happenings and memories, skirting the elephant in the room, the reason Kyle was there. They ate the casserole on the deck, with candles flickering on the picnic table, Sue drinking her wine and Kyle his beer, which she initially was inclined not to give him, since it was technically illegal, but figuring it was a special occasion and the poor boy could use a little loosening up.

At the sink later, Kyle helpfully assisted his beloved Auntie Sue with the dishes, and the conversation continued easily and casually, but as the alcohol took hold, he couldn’t help but notice the unusually sexy shape his old aunt was in. She was willowy and firm, her legs supple and hard, honed to good muscle tone by years of working out, a body lean and not at all the norm for a woman of 66.

And she, in her slightly inebriated state, noticed him. The boy had changed into silky running shorts that hugged his athletic bottom and legs, and there was that package again, she couldn’t help but see as they now sat in the living room, chatting and drinking just a bit more. The outline of his penis was clearly visible in the dim lighting of the room, and she had to force herself to look away as they talked, and force those unholy thoughts from her mind.

On the TV, Sue had set it to one of the music stations, one playing old music, from her era. Her face brightened when she heard one song come on, as did Kyle’s.

“Remember that? Oh, what’s the name, what’s the name…” Sue laughed, looking at him. “When you were little, I taught you how to dance with a girl, you were what, in elementary school, going to your first dance, and all nervous about it? Remember? I taught you?”

“I do, I do, Auntie Sue, God, that was fun,” Kyle sighed, then impulsively standing before his aunt, holding out a hand and bowing. “May I? May I have this dance?”

And they danced, his arm around her, hand clasped in hers, a classic posture, standing apart and waltzing about the room, laughing, care free, with the grace of the young, a grace Sue had never left behind and one energized in the arms of her handsome young nephew. The song changed, jazzed up, and now they swung into the music, Kyle spinning off his laughing aunt, catching her hand and twirling her back to him, over and over, his front pressed to her back, arms around her middle, swaying to the music.

“Oh my, Kyle, you are such a fine dancer!” she laughed, trying not to realize how tightly he was pressed against her.

“And you as well, pretty lady!” he gushed, red faced, before twirling her away to continue their dance.

And then it ended, as he spun her back to him, face to face, looking kaçak iddaa down at her, his lips inches from hers, their uncertain eyes locked suddenly together, his arms around her slender hips, hers around his neck. Then together, almost instinctively, their faces met and kissed, an electric, meaningful kiss, lips locked together for not more than seconds but lasting a seeming lifetime, a palpable jolt of energy coursing between them. Sue felt herself moisten below and Kyle’s cock hardened faster than it ever had before.

They broke, at once and together and stood apart, awkwardly, turning from each other, Sue nervously turning off the music and laughing to hide the clumsiness of the moment, picking up glass and bottle and trundling off to the kitchen.

“Oh, my, it’s so late, after midnight!” she said, Kyle behind her, searching for something to say to make it all go away.

“Auntie Sue, I…”

“Shhhhh, shhhh,” she said with a weak smile, turning to face him, stopping so suddenly he found himself perilously close to her pretty old face again. “It’s nothing, nothing, you love your old aunt, you gave your old aunt a lovely kiss, that’s all…”

“You’re not old!” he said far too emphatically then softening, a frown on his face. “Not…old…at all!”

“That’s very sweet, but time for bed, child,” she giggled, happy for the compliment, uncertain how to take it. “It’s been a long, trying day, Kyle, you need your sleep. Tomorrow is Saturday, we can do something special, go to the beach maybe…”

“That would be nice,” he said, smiling.

Suddenly a vision of his sexy old aunt in a bathing suit flashed in his mind, likely one of those frumpy ones women her age wore, not at all revealing with one of those old-lady skirts hiding the butts. Even on her, that would look amazing, his imagination told him.

“If you’ve got any laundry to do, just throw it in the hamper in the bathroom, I’ll do it sometime tomorrow,” she said, as she snapped off the lights and he followed her into the dark.

They readied for bed in their rooms, and then coming into the hall to use to sole bathroom, Susan in a long, frilly negligee suited for her age, Kyle in a pair of boxer shorts. He saw her and went red in the face, standing aside to let her pass in the narrow space, she brushing by, averting her eyes.

“I won’t be long, Kyle, I promise, just gotta brush my teeth,” she said nervously, feeling the heat from his naked chest warm her on passing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, backing into his room. “I didn’t know you were out here, or I would’ve worn…I would’ve…”

“Don’t be silly, Kyle, I changed your diapers when you were a baby!” she laughed.

She went inside, brushed her teeth, and relieving herself. She opened the hamper to toss some of her exercise clothes inside. There lay a mound of Kyle’s clothing. And underwear. She looked at the door, knowing he was waiting. Her hand tentatively fished inside the hamper, and came out with a pair of his boxers. She held them to her nose.

It hit her at once, this unsuspected orgasm, small, slight, sending a shiver throughout her body. She felt immense shame – and balled the garment up, hiding it under her gown before stepping into the hallway.

“Good night, sweet boy,” she said, trying to hide her blushing face from him as she darted to her room.

Kyle followed the same ritual, brushing his teeth, peeing, and the spying the laundry basket, flipped it open. There were the sweaty work-out clothes of his beloved aunt, worn and welcoming. As ashamed as he’d ever been, he lifted a pair of damp panties and sweat socks, lifting them to his nose. The stench was overpowering and alluring and his cock went rock hard in his boxers. He started to stroke himself, the wad of wet clothes at his face, but then thought better of it, peeking out into the hallway and making his way to his room.

In their respective rooms, embraced in their respective shame and longing, boy and aunt played with themselves, Kyle wantonly sucking on the acrid, sweaty socks and stained underwear, savoring the forbidden flavor as he pounded his urgent cock, Susan mashing the boy’s boxers to her face, inhaling his scent and madly fingering her hairy pussy.

Boys being boys, he finished first, after putting one sock the length of his cock and grunting as he worked his cock, jetting a thick load into the already damp material, then shamefully pulling his aunt’s panties and other sock from his mouth, the kaçak bahis taste lingering, leaving him hard.

He lay, panting in the dark, and heard the faint moans from the room next to his. He got up, stole down the hall to re-deposit the soiled underthings of his fantasy back in the hamper, and very quietly, positioned himself at her door.

It was an old house and as such, door frames were somewhat out of whack. Susan’s was, and never quite shut all the way. Through the crack, slender but accommodating, Kyle peered into the near dark, the bed and his lusty aunt bathed in just enough light from the moon to see. She lay there, Kyle’s underwear to her face, legs spread. And her fingers working into the hairiest pussy Kyle had ever seen. His cock, already stiff, grew harder still and he stroked it again, watching her fingers dance in her sex, the wet, squishy sound they made making him hornier than he’d ever been in his young life.

They came together shortly thereafter, Susan thrashing on the bed, stifling her moans by stuffing Kyle’s underwear inside her mouth, four fingers flashing in and out of that hirsute, wet patch between her marvelously saggy thighs, and Kyle in his free hand, grunting as quietly as possible, lobbing a thick, creamy load into his palm. Both were in a state of disbelief at what they were doing, experience some other-wordly feel about the whole thing, but then post-orgasm clarity brought them to their somewhat groggy senses.

Kyle backed away, watching his aunt’s thighs close and her lying still, chest rising and falling, her wrinkled cleavage warm and inviting. He went into the bathroom, fished out the sock he’d cum in and wiped his load there. He froze when he heard footsteps.


“Uh, yeah, Auntie Sue, just be a second,” he stammered nervously, discarding the quick notion he’d had about rinsing the sock clean and just putting it back where he’d found it. “Almost done.”

In the blur of the moments leading to his discovery of her dirty panties and socks, he had noticed they’d been adjacent to a pair of his boxer shorts, and his mind had raced with the concept of them being so close together, garments worn over their respective genitalia, thinking how sexy that was. Now, he noticed the boxers were gone. He looked deeper in his mound of clothes and could not find them.

“No way,” he thought to himself. “No fucking way…”

He shut the lid, washed his palm clean, flushed the toilet to cover his tracks and opened the door just as his aunt was peeking out of her room, apparently having tucked herself back in so Kyle wouldn’t see her holding his underwear.

“G’night, honey,” she said sweetly. “Just gotta go myself…”

He walked by, smiling weakly, retreating to his room. Susan waited, then went to the bathroom, peed and took Kyle’s underwear out from under her nightie, flushing the toilet and lifting the hamper lid. She dropped it inside, and noticed her sweat socks, one in particular, absolutely soaked. It was wet from her sweat before, but looked sodden and heavy next to the other, drier one. She lifted it up, felt its heft in her trembling hand, and brought it tentatively to her face.

She knew the smell of sperm; she’d raised her own boys, and would often find their used towels in their room, hiding away, knowing what they were for. And she’d performed enough oral sex in her life, though not nearly enough for her liking, and was familiar with the scent – and the taste. This sock before her face now reeked of that bleachy aroma of fresh sperm and her pussy came alive again as she inhaled the vapor. She brought it closer, turned it inside out. Clumps of still-warm spunk lay there, teasingly, invitingly. She at once knew what had happened and it thrilled and ashamed her to her very sexual core.

“Naughty, naughty boy,” she said to herself, caught up in something unimaginable as she looked at the glistening fluid. “Dear God, naughty, naughty me…”

She couldn’t help herself, nor did she want to, as she opened her softly puckered mouth and inserted the wet sock inside, reveling in the texture, the taste, the smell, licking it clean, running the cum around her teeth and gums, gulping it down. She almost didn’t notice, until she found herself weak in the knees and suddenly gripping the bathroom sink for balance, that she’d had an orgasm while doing it.

She pulled the sock from her mouth, and with the taste burning in her mouth, returned it to the pile, closing the lid, shutting the light and walking gently to her room, by Kyle’s door, wondering, wishing and wanting.

The next day would come soon, bringing with it, neither one knew. Nor could they sleep waiting for it…

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