His Eighteenth

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I shouldn’t be writing this. I really shouldn’t. If anyone recognised me from this or worked out who I was there would be Hell to pay. But I have to write this. What I’ve done is going round and round in my head and I have to let it out somehow. I can’t talk about it to anyone – at least not anyone who actually knows me – so I suppose this is what I have to do.

My name is Zoë. I am thirty-five years old. I got married when I was twenty-seven to Mark and we moved into a nice little semi-detached house about thirty miles from where we grew up. We were both earning, at first, so we could afford a decent mortgage and lots of the little extras life can offer – holidays; nice cars and so forth. We were in love and our sex life was great. We were happy. After a few years I became pregnant and my daughter Emily was born. At first this made us the happiest people alive – and yes, I know, most parents say that. And don’t get me wrong; when you have read what follows it may sound otherwise, but I love Emily to bits. After she was born things, though, started to go wrong for us. We had decided that I should stop work and that we could get by on Mark’s salary. Then he lost his job. There were money troubles. The pressures of looking after a small child exhausted me and our relationship suffered. He had an affair. We shouted. We hit each other. Eventually we separated about three years ago.

Long story short I moved back, with Emily, to where I had come from. I thought it would help having family not too far away. I got a small two-bedroomed house a few streets away from my sister, Sharon, and her family and about a mile away from my brother. I started working again. Sharon helps out with the childcare when Emily is sick and can’t go to primary school and her son, my nephew Sam, occasionally babysat for me when I had a night out. Not that that happened very often. The love-life of a thirty-five year old divorceé with a five year old child is not the endless round of sexual fulfilment you might imagine. Yes, I have toys. Yes I’ve had a few brief flings and a couple of one night stands. Still, though, I grew more than a little horny over about a year and really very frustrated.

Those are my excuses. I’m not at all sure they are adequate. The thing is that moving back to living near my sister and her family meant that I had support from them when I needed it. It also meant I had Sam to do a bit of babysitting. And not just babysitting. He had just completed his last year at school and he often dropped in to see if I need anything or if there were any jobs I want done. I suspect his Mum put him up to it, but he’s a good lad. He’s also a good-looking young man. He’s tall and dark like his father but has the piercing blue eyes that his mother and I share. In the last couple of years he has taken an interest in his appearance and has been going to the gym. He’s been developing a fine set of muscles. I found myself wondering about other things about his development. I once walked in on Sharon and Steve, her husband, at my parents’ house back in the days when they were engaged but not yet married. Our parents were out and they were taking advantage of that and I noticed – before I mumbled my apologies and took myself off – that Steve’s cock was really quite magnificent. ‘Like father, like son?’ You see where this is going, don’t you? I started to fancy him. I started to think about him in bed at night when I reached into my bedside cabinet for my rabbit or my egg. I don’t know. Maybe other aunts sometimes look at their nephews that way. I’m pretty sure most don’t do anything about it.

I’d like to plead that things happened ‘by accident’ or that “things got out of hand” or that he seduced me. None of those things would be true. His eighteenth birthday was coming up. Emily was going to be with her father – we have always been sticklers for the idea that she sees us both regularly. I phoned Sharon and told her that I had a present for Sam but that he would have to come to my house to collect it. I made up some story about having a hot date that would mean that I would miss his party. After all, I said, he wouldn’t mind his aunt being absent when he has all his friends there.

Then I started to get ready. After I had showered and shaved myself down below I walked through to my bedroom and stood naked in front of my bedroom mirror. I have a good body. I’m five foot-six inches tall and have long blonde hair. These are attractive features, I thought to myself. I have fantastic boobs. OK – That’s bigging myself up. But that’s what I was doing. They are 34E with big aureoles around my nipples and I count that as fantastic. My skin is white, bordering on albino, but a little make-up helps. I have a nice arse but am carrying a few pounds around the waist. So. A black silky thong that would contrast with my skin. A black bra that lifts my breasts and enhances my cleavage. I considered stockings but I wasn’t sure they had the same pulling power for someone of – and here’s where I actually thought about it – someone of Sam’s age. Rejecting stockings I went for a dark brown gaziantep escort skirt that was knee length but with a slit up the side that went all the way to my hip. Then I picked a low-cut tan-brown top. I looked at myself and said “You look gorgeous.” By the time I had put on my make-up I seriously believed I was the sexiest woman on the planet.

About half an hour later I heard the back door open and Sam’s voice, “Auntie Zoë!”. I shouted back that I was in the living room. A few moments later Sam came in and I rose from my chair to greet him at the door. I embraced him, kissing his cheek and holding him for a few seconds longer than I normally would, letting him take in the scent I had put on and feel my breasts against his firm well-developed chest.

“Come on in, birthday boy!” I said, releasing him and gesturing toward the two-seater sofa. “How’s your day been going? I hope you’ve been having a good time.”

“It’s been great.” he replied, sitting on the sofa. “I’m looking forward to my party tonight. I’m sorry to hear you won’t be there.” He smiled at me and I sat in the chair opposite him, crossing my legs so that the slit in my skirt offered him a fine view of my leg all the way up, pretty much, to my arse.

“I’m sorry too, Sam,” I replied watching how his gaze kept flickering from my face to my boobs and to my thigh and back again. “Maybe I’ll be able to get there later. Or maybe I’ll be able to make it up to you some other way.” I smiled at him and I swear he blushed. I wondered whether he had been thinking about me the way I had been thinking about him, despite my being nearly twice his age.

“A big day!” I said. “You only get to be eighteen once. You’re a man now and I think that calls for a celebration.” I got up again from my chair and went out to the kitchen, consciously swaying as I walked and imagining my nephew’s eyes fixed on my buttocks. I returned a few moments later with a bottle of champagne from the fridge – well, Prosecco – two champagne flutes and a towel. “So,” I said. You can legally have your first alcoholic drink outside your parents’ home. I’d like to raise a glass to your manhood.” I placed the glasses on the table in front of the sofa and unwound the wire cork-holder from the bottle, kneeling on the floor a few feet away from Sam. Then I pushed the cork free from the bottle. I know that’s not the right way to do it, but the cork shot from the bottle and white foam flooded, for a moment or two, from the mouth of the bottle. I mopped it up and said “That reminds me of something….” then I mopped up the spilt champagne and poured some of what was left into the glasses. I handed one to Sam and took the other back with me as I sat back down in my chair, again crossing my legs to reveal as much of my thigh as possible. I raised my glass and toasted his birthday. “To manhood!”.

Sam raised his glass and took a mouthful from it. “Thanks “Auntie Zoë,” he said. Then we started chatting about stuff, but I kept dropping hints where I could. When he said that it was a new thing to be able to drink legally, I told him that there were lots of things that would be open to him now that he was a man. When he talked about finding it hard to ask girls out on dates I advised him that women were as interested in sex as he was and that he should be confident: that he was a good-looking young man and that women would be flocking to his door. I poured him another glass of champagne and we talked about what he was going to do now that he had left school and I told him that he could have whoever – correcting myself, “whatever” – he wanted if he took the opportunities when they came. And I watched his eyes. I watched the way they roved over my body and they way he flushed when he realised I might be watching him. It was time to move in.

“So, your present.” I said. I got up from the chair and got a parcel from behind the sofa. It was wrapped in gift paper with a bright red bow. I handed it to Sam and he opened it it with care. I had bought him a drone with a camera attachment.

“Thanks Auntie Zoë,” he said. “I’ve been after one of these.”

“Yes, your Mum told me,” I replied.

“Now I don’t you want you using that to spy on women,” I said with a cheeky wink. “I don’t want to see that thing hovering over my garden when I’m sunbathing topless.” With that I bent over the small coffee table and kissed him on the forehead as any aunt might. Except, of course, in doing so, I gave him a look down my top that would have let him see all the way down to my navel if my tits weren’t as pushed up and together as firmly as they were. “OK?” I said, moving my face only inches from his. Yes. He was having a good hard look at my twin assets.

I sat next to him on the sofa, turned in toward him and poured us another glass of Prosecco. I glanced down toward his crotch and there was a definite bulge in his trousers. “I don’t get many pleasures, Sam, ” said, sipping my drink and encouraging him to do likewise. “But making you happy is one of them.” I moved a little closer konya escort to him so that my thigh was firm against his. I again raised my glass and proposed another toast. “To pleasure!”

“To pleasure,” he responded and, as I held my glass up, he touched his glass to it. His eyes met mine as we both sipped from the touching glasses and I knew it was time for the endgame.

“Oh my word!” I said. “I nearly forgot. I told your Mum that you would have to come round to get your present, didn’t I? I could have just brought this round. The other half of your present is upstairs and I’ll need your help with it.”. I patted his thigh, got up off the sofa and made for the door that led to the hallway and the stairs. He got up and followed me. On the stairs I was aware he was maybe five steps behind me. Just the distance, I thought, to give him the best chance of looking up my skirt. If he did he would have had a fine view of my arse and only the string of my thong.

I led him into my bedroom. He looked around for a moment and I shut the door behind us. I’m not sure why – there was no one else in the house. “Sam,” I said in what I hoped was my most alluring voice, “The other part of your present is me.” He turned to face me and I put my arms around is waist and pulled him close to me. I planted my lips on his. Instinctively he parted his and my tongue slipped between them and glided over his tongue. I felt the firmness of his chest against my boobs and the warmth of his body and I wanted him.

“Auntie Zoë…” he began, breaking the kiss.

I put my hand over his lips. “In this room I’m just Zoë,” I said. “And what happens in this room stays in this room.” I kissed him again and he responded. I felt his arms around my waist and we pulled each other close together. I felt the bulge in his trousers pressing against my groin and I felt his hands movings over the curves of my body. There was part of me that kept yelling at me that this was wrong; that kept reminding me that he was my sister’s son; that kept reminding me that he was half my age. But there was also another part of me, located between my legs, that was telling me that I had needs; that a good looking young man with what felt like an interesting package between his legs was snogging me and that there was a whole kinky side to this whole auntie-nephew thing that was really turning me on.

“Time to unwrap your present, Sam,” I said, huskily, and guided his hands to the buttons on my top. His hands were shaking a little, but there were only three buttons so in a minute or so my top was gone. I took off my bra because men just can’t do that – especially when they are as young as Sam. He gasped – genuinely – when he saw my tits. I took his hands at the wrists and placed them over my boobs. I pressed them to them and helped him to slip my nipples between his fingers. God I love that! Our lips locked again and our tongues rolled over each other. I ran my hands up and under his t-shirt. His stomach was flat and his abdomen trembled at my touch. Upward to his fine chest, the t-shirt moving with my hands. Then off. We were skin to skin now and there was no turning back.

I guided his hands again, this time to unfasten my skirt. A moment later I felt it slipping down my legs to the floor and Sam’s strong hands on my arse, kneading my buttocks. I unpoppered his jeans and unbuckled his belt. I really needed to get into his trousers now. I reached inside and was rewarded with the feel of a warm, thick cock, already firming up. “Hmmm…” I murmured. “You are a big boy, aren’t you?” With that I released him, coquettishly slipped my thong down my legs and threw myself onto the bed. I lay on my back and beckoned to Sam. “Come on then! Catch up!” He pulled off his jeans and pants and pushed off his shoes in a matter of seconds and joined me.

Then we were rolling together on the bed, his thigh between mine, my shaved pussy grinding against his leg. I could feel his now very hard shaft against my belly as we kissed. My nipples were hard as well, and were singing to my pussy as Sam squeezed them between his fingers and kneaded my breasts. I whispered huskily in his ear, “Do you know to really get a woman ready to fuck?”, a little shock of excitement knotting in my stomach as I used the word to my nephew. I put my hand on the top of his head and gently encouraged him down my body, kissing my breasts and my stomach on the way, until his face was between my legs. I felt his tongue slipping between my outer lips and a jolt of pleasure ran through me. It excited me to know that he could taste how wet I was. “The clitoris,” I murmured softly. “That lump right at the top of the.. OH!! Yes! That!” I moaned aloud as his tongue rolled over my button again and again and delicious sensations rolled through my groin.

After a minute or two I wriggled away from him and encouraged him up onto his knees. Kneeling in front of him I kissed him, tasting my juices on his lips and tongue. Then I said, “My turn,” and began kissing my way down his chest, over his firm kayseri escort abdomen until I got to his cock. A good eight or nine inches in length and thick it stood proudly from his groin like a soldier at attention. I rolled my tongue lovingly over the deep pink head that protruded from his foreskin then down the long shaft and back up the underside along his pronounced inner tube. Then I took his head into my mouth. I heard him gasp and his pole jerked a little. Not too much of this, I thought. Just enough to get him good and eager. The idea that I had my sister’s son’s manhood in my mouth was adding to the thrill and I sucked him for about a minute.

Then I lay back again on the bed. I opened my legs and said “Showtime!” He positioned himself between my legs and I guided the head of his fine tool to my entrance. “OHHH!!” I gasped as, with a single thrust he was deep inside me. I felt my pussy walls stretching to take his girth and length. He isn’t the biggest I’ve ever had, but he was going to places inside me where no man had gone for some considerable time. Then he was moving inside me; long, considered strokes that drew a gasp from me with each inward drive. I brought my legs up to allow him still deeper and felt his flanks moving against my inner thighs. I felt his groin grinding on my clit. I felt….I just felt wonderful. As he began to up the tempo of his movements inside me I began to moan with pleasure with each thrust.

Soon the waves of pleasure flowing out from my pussy were growing in intensity, it seemed, with every thrust of Sam’s cock inside me. I locked my ankles around his back, pulling him deeper. “Oh my God, Sam!” I cried out feverishly, “Harder! Please! Harder! Fuck me harder!” I felt him pick up the pace, driving into me harder, deeper and faster. Pulses of pleasure throbbing out from my groin grew more frequent and began to merge with each other, amplifying each other. My breathing was so fast now and I was panting and writhing under my young lover’s body. “OH!! OH YES!!” I was crying out. “Fuck me Sam! FuckMe!FuckMe!!FuckMe!!!FuckMe!!!” I was nearly there. Then with a wail I cried out “OH! MY!! GOD!!!”” and it arrived. Orgasm roared through my body like an express train thundering through a station and I shook from pussy to toes and to the top of my head. If I was a screamer I’d have alerted the whole neighbourhood to what we were doing.

Gradually the intensity subsided. Sam was still pounding away at my pussy and my body was trembling beneath him. Nevertheless I remembered that this was his birthday. “I said to him, my voice ridiculously tremulous for a woman of my age, “Get off me a minute.” With a slightly regretful look he did as I asked. I pushed him down onto his back. “No reason why you should do all the work,” I said and got astride him. I guided his cock back to my sopping wet pussy and sank down on it, enjoying every inch. Then I began to ride him, slowly at first, but more and more urgently as the pleasure of his shaft filling me with each movement began to build toward another crescendo. I felt his hands on my tits, kneading them. He was grunting now and I could tell he was close. My hips worked faster and I leaned forward to work my clit on the base of his cock.

“Oh God…” he groaned “Oh my God I’m gonna…”

I was on the pill and the idea that my nephew was about to cum inside me was just too exciting to ignore. It drove me to ride him faster, my own pleasure continuing to mount. “Yes!” I moaned. “Cum for me! Cum for your Auntie Zoë!” His hands reached out and grabbed the duvet, seizing it convulsively and I felt his shaft swelling inside me. With the first burst of his hot, thick seed inside me another wave of pure, unalloyed sexual joy flooded my body and I came for a second time.

I rolled off him and lay gasping on the bed. It felt like my whole body was glowing. After a while lying together I reminded him that no one could ever know about what had happened. He’s a smart young man and understands that. Yes. I’ve shifted to the present tense. He’s been coming round three or four times a week since then. He’s started working as a waiter in a local restaurant which means he generally works evenings. That means he’s free during the day when Emily is at primary school. I said at the beginning that I had to write this because I had stuff going round and round in my head. Maybe you thought I meant shame or embarrassment. No. It’s excitement. I’m a thirty-five year old single mum whose sexual needs are being satisfied to a degree I haven’t experienced for years – if ever – by a vigorous, well-hung young man. That he’s half my age and happens to be my nephew adds a rackful of spice to all this.

Yes, I know we have to be careful. If anyone found out there’d be Hell to pay. And, yes, I know all about “the dangers of inbreeding”. I have no intention of “breeding”. This month, on doctor’s advice, I’m off the pill. We’re using condoms, or we’re pleasuring each other with our mouths and our hands. That said, Sam has been dropping a few “subtle” hints about how gorgeous my bottom is and about how tight my rear knot-hole is when he plays it while he’s going down on me. The thing is, though, I like a bit of anal – especially when I’ve got one of my toys buzzing away in my pussy. So, if he plays his cards right, I know a young man who, very soon, will get to bury his dick balls deep in his auntie’s arse. Exciting days!

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