Stuck Narratives: Aunt Elle
Struggling Stories: Aunt Elle's Quandary
Being a teenager isn't a walk in the park! I understand, because just yesterday, I turned nineteen. I'm now old enough for adults to expect me to act mature—which is essentially synonymous with being boring, yet they won't let me make any decisions for myself. As the youngest of four children, it's particularly challenging when my three elder sisters are all married. They've moved in with their husbands, fortunately.
The majority of my time was spent at university, honing my skills to become a Phys-ed/math teacher. Meanwhile, at night, I was treated like an errand boy, even forced to do chores. It's frustrating that, despite my parents earning a decent income, they wouldn't offer me any assistance to pay for my education despite my inability to secure a part-time job due to my rigorous study schedule.
I worked at the local takeaway joint every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday for a barely adequate wage, putting in six hours each night to make some cash. Unfortunately, this meant that I had little time to go on dates.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed some luck with the ladies. In high school, I played rugby league and was an elite swimmer, thus securing myself a fair share of admirers. I shared my virginity with Maggie Johnson before others, and we've continued our sexual adventures since that fateful night.
Dating girls around my age turned out to be a challenging task, because they wanted to be entertained on weekends. However, being the punching bag in the family, I had no choice but to endure.
At that time, Mom decided out of the blue that her sister, Elle, was allowed to live with us. Elle had been cycling in and out of rehab for years. Her sobriety would inevitably last for a while, but eventually, she'd revert back to her life of chaos, involving alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, or even crack. My father had insisted on keeping her in the past claiming, "I prefer to keep my treasures safe in my house rather than bartering them for drugs." However, he consented to her staying with us following her recent rehab.
When I tried to protest, I was told it was "none of your business," and if I couldn't deal with it, I had the option of seeking residence in the dorms. Nevertheless, I muttered in silence when I returned home one day from school, finding Aunt Elle comfortably established in our spare room, simply inhaling cannabis without acknowledging the ban on smoking in our home.
At 5-ft., Elle's exceptional body caught my attention. Despite her emaciated physique, due to her lack of food consumption and drug intake, her D-cup breasts rested visibly atop her frail frame. Her tiny waist widened into generous hips. Her bottom, just like her chest, was unexpectedly firm, despite her addiction.
I've been trying to empathize with my aunt. I'm aware that she endured domestic abuse in her marriage; her husband relished the idea of sharing her with his friends whenever he desired and beat her if she showed any reluctance or fervor. I simply can't fathom how one transitions from suffering abuse to self-abuse. My courses might shed some light on this enigma.
One day, not long after Aunt Elle's arrival, I decided to take a shower, still wearing only a towel, following my afternoon run. Without realizing it, I passed by her bedroom. Audaciously, I caught a glimpse of Aunt Elle's alluring curves. It's complicated being sympathetic towards her. I understand that she's been through difficult times. However, I fail to comprehend how she went from being a survivor of abuse to self-abuse. Surely, my classes will provide insight.
Aunty Elle exclaimed, stunned, as I walked past her door and immediately jumped off her bed to follow me. "Put down the towel, handsome!" She called, and I felt ashamed, so I quickly headed to the bathroom and locked the door.
From that moment, it seemed every time I passed by Aunty Elle's room, the door would be open, and she would be lying on her bed with her legs pulled up. On some occasions, her pussy would be visible, and in others, she would be touching herself. Of course, I'm a teenager, so seeing an attractive, almost naked woman who wasn't my mother showing me her "private parts" kept me constantly aroused. This didn't help that Aunty Elle resembled a character from the Big Bang Theory. She had a nice face, big breasts, a small waist, generous hips, and long, shapely legs with slim ankles and feet.
After seeing Aunty Elle's naked pussy and her playing with herself, my masturbatory fantasies focused solely on her. Incredible! If it were feasible, I'd have had to reattach my dick so many times in the weeks she started exposing herself.
Aunty Elle limited her teasing to when we were alone at home for the following few weeks, but when I didn't respond, she intensified it. She started sitting next to me at the dinner table, and whenever she needed something, she'd turn so her breasts rubbed on my arm to ask me to fetch it for her. Naturally, this required me to spend the whole meal with a hidden erection. But it didn't end there. Whenever Aunty Elle was out of sight of my parents, she'd cup her breasts as if presenting them to me. Or she'd sway her almost bare backside in front of me.
I was in a constant state of unfulfilled desire, masturbating whenever and wherever possible. I was so aroused that I even had to dart to the bathroom during lectures to relieve the pressure in my trousers, lest my throbbing penis ejaculate inside them. What's more, none of my usual options for sexual relief wanted to go out during the week or wait until 11:00 pm on weekends before I fetched them.
And if that weren't enough, Aunty Elle started brushing against me whenever I was in the kitchen preparing coffee or grabbing something to eat. I'd be at the sink filling the kettle, and Aunt Elle would slip past me as though there wasn't much space, her large breasts rubbing against my back. But when a parent was in sight, she began hugging me at every opportunity. Of course, with a parent watching, I couldn't rudely push her away and flee in anger.
Aunty Elle began hugging me from behind particularly when my parents were on the other side of the island table. During these instances, Aunty Elle would let her hands wander over my buttocks or, on the sly, she'd caress my aching genitals.
Eventually, Aunty Elle started wearing low-cut or deep V-neck tops and dresses. As if to emphasise her enormous cleavage, Aunty Elle would wear necklaces that sat between her chest, attracting my attention to the deep valley formed by her ample bosoms. The necklaces always had a double strand--a tight one around her slender neck and a deeper one nestled between her protruding breasts. It got so bad that all I did was hide in my room and study. It had some benefits, though, as my GPA surged two points due to all the extra study I was doing.
Then came the fateful weekend. Mum, who had recently received a job promotion, had to go to a "branch manager summit" in Sydney, and she and Dad would be gone for the entire week. Consequently, I'd be home alone with Aunt Elle. Images of being mercilessly sexually teased for a week and having rubbed my penis raw by the time Mum and Dad returned flashed through my mind as I considered reasons to stay with someone else. However, other than Dad's brother, my Uncle Kurt, another revolting pervert, there was no one I could even consider staying with for a week.
Conceding defeat, I agreed to drive my parents to the airport on Friday afternoon and retrieve them on the morning of the following Friday.
The first two nights went smoothly because I didn't return home until 11:00 p.m. each night due to my part-time job. However, on Sunday morning, Aunty Elle started provoking me. While I was getting dressed in my running shorts and shoes with a light t-shirt on for my morning run, I was in the kitchen, filling up on water before starting. It was winter, so swimming was out of the question, and running was fantastic for my aerobic capacity because I was no longer playing rugby. I was prepared for my workout when Aunt Elle approached.
"Hey look at you!" Aunt Elle exclaimed, walking around the kitchen counter towards me. I sucked in a breath and gawked, my thick cock already swelling in my shorts. Aunt Elle was completely naked, her large breasts bouncing deliciously as she approached. Additionally, her closely trimmed pubic hair appeared glistening and smooth in the morning sunlight.
"Oh, bloody hell," I muttered in shock, darting towards the bathroom to avoid cumming into my nylon running shorts. Very luckily, I managed to unzip my shorts and sit on the toilet before releasing my load. Aunt Elle's mocking laughter from outside the door made it worse. I stayed lavatory-bound until I was certain she was gone before exiting and heading for my run.
When I returned, Aunt Elle was nowhere to be seen. I felt relieved at her absence and grabbed my towel to go shower. Setting foot in the bathroom, I took off my clothes and got ready to hop into the shower. However, I suddenly heard a muffled shout from the laundry room. I intensely listened, trying to identify what the sounds were, but their distance made them indistinguishable. Hesitating, I wrapped the towel around my hips and walked to the laundry, following the noise.
Upon opening the door, I found Aunt Elle kneeling on the floor with her head in the dryer. "What on earth are you doing?" I questioned.
"What do you think I'm doing?" She snapped back.
Annoyed by her persistent taunting, I responded, "Trying to kill yourself, I suppose. Your addled brain can't tell the difference between a clothes dryer and a gas oven!"
"What the hell?" Aunt Elle yelled.
"No, no," I sang nonchalantly. "I meant 'fuck you,' since you're in the same position. So, if you need my help, tell me what you're attempting."
"I placed my only pyjamas into the dryer after washing and they disappeared," she replied.
"So, you half-entered the dryer to find a missing button?" I asked quizzically.
"Exactly," she confirmed. "Why else would you do that?"
"I don't know, perhaps try it with the door open next time?" I countered.
"I'm not that foolish," she scoffed. "But why are you still in there?"
"Because my necklace has snapped and is stuck under the door!" Aunt Elle cried out.
"Well, attempt removing it then," I suggested.
"I've looked everywhere for the catch!" Aunt Elle whined.
For the first time, I assessed the situation. My bratty, teasing aunt was stuck with her head in the dryer, either too clueless to find the catch or unwilling to try too hard and break the necklace. No matter the reason, she was now in my control.
I stared at her curvaceous ass, wrapped in a tiny pair of tight white shorts. The shorts moulded over her toned behind and perineum, clearly highlighting her pussy lips and clit. On top, Aunt Elle had on a sheer blouse that barely concealed her unrestricted breasts. The blouse had risen up, exposing the tops of her dense nipples.
In an attempt to ignore the sudden sexual fantasy that came to my mind, I knelt beside her and reached for her necklace catch. Oddly enough, I could not find it anywhere, and, of course, I couldn't twist the necklace to locate it.
"Stop gawping at my breasts and help me get out," Aunt Elle requested irritably.
I stepped away from her bosom and reached around her back to grab her breasts. Squeezing her fleshy nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, I taunted, "These saggy old things? Maybe some desperate guy would pay $50 for a tit job, but I'm not one of them."
"I'll tear your ass apart with Dad's belt when I'm free!" Aunt Elle screamed, struggling to release my grasp.
"Really?" I jeered. "And your so-called 'whole army'? Besides, my name is John, and I abhor the name Johnny."
"Johnny Murray," Aunt Elle hissed. "You're a man now? A man can't handle a real woman like me?"
"Shut up, Aunt Elle!" I roared, releasing her chest and landing a hard slap on her taut ass.
"Is that it?" Aunt Elle snarled. "The most you've got?" I ridiculed, taking my hands off her big tit melons.
Filled with anger, I moved to untie Aunty Elle's shorts and tore them off, revealing her hairy vagina and little rosebud. I started striking her tight ass with my palm and the back of my hand, and Aunty Elle giggled and waved her backside seductively. "Is that all you can do?" she mocked me. "If you want to make my vagina wet, you'll need to hit harder."
I couldn't believe what I was seeing - the aroma of a woman's arousal wafted through the air, coming from Aunty Elle's crotch. I looked closer and saw that her lips were dripping with her own wetness. In that moment, the cauterized tip of my brain realized my dick and balls, that had been constantly throbbing, hadn't had relief in a long time.
Aunty Elle, able to sense my raging erection, shook her curvy derriere. "So, young Johnny Murray, what's a true man going to do about his saucy, insubordinate aunt?"
Suddenly, I understood - this wasn't the trouble Aunty Elle had with her ex-husband, who became abusive. No, she wanted discipline and then sex! She relished being disciplined. Plus, my mother didn't know Aunty Elle's problem was self-control problems rather than addiction. To control her, Aunty Elle required strict discipline, and I was the one to do it today.
Quickly, I ran to my room and fetched my leather belt. Standing behind my Aunt Elle's curvy ass, I clicked the belt, letting her know I had something in my hand. Taking a breath and wishing for the best, I declared, "Aunty Elle, your conduct is unacceptable. Your behavior like a slut and whore is disgraceful to my family and me. You'll halt right now before I have to punish you further."
To my astonishment, Aunty Elle obeyed, "Yes, Mister. This woman feels sorry for making you enforce your rules."
My heart raced as I felt the adrenaline bursting through me. "Are you ready for punishment, Auntie?"
Without hesitation, Aunty Elle said, "Please, disciplinarian, do as you will with me."
With the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I stared at my aunt's pert butt, contemplating my next move. I gripped the belt and swung it on the back of her ass, leaving a bright red mark. She shuddered and murmured, "1, thank you, sir."
Having administered discipline, I lashed out four more times, and each time, Aunty Elle shook, moaned, and gratefully declared "2, 3, 4, thank you, sir."
Once completed, I noticed that my aunt was on the verge of an orgasm and my years of sexual pent-up emotions had me nearly bursting. I mustered up the courage and inquired, "So, Aunty, it's my choice - your cunt or ass for my reward?"
"I'll let you in my vagina or asshole," she submitted. "I plead to be your willing plaything. Kindly use me however you wish."
I couldn't believe it. Punishing my mom's sister and then getting to fuck her? Well, no man in his right mind would pass up such a golden opportunity.
In order to further tease my aunt, I rubbed my swollen cock against her soaking cunt, brushed it against her button, and rubbed it in the crack of her ass. Debating, "Ass or cunt...Ass or cunt...," I finally chose her cunt and spread it wide. I bashed my erect penis against it moments before my entire body convulsed as I reached orgasm, jetting her vagina full of cum!
Unfortunately, my arousal hardly faded, so right away I pulled it out and began pushing against her ass before slamming all the way into her. With each forceful pump, Aunty Elle cried out, "I'm cumming!" as liquid spurted from her cunt, drenching my balls.
I've slept with multiple women, but my Aunt Elle was the first to leave me drenched in her wetness during sex. Feeling her pleasure shoot out onto my balls tipped me right over the edge into another orgasm. I can't deny it - I'm just 19 years old. My manhood didn't even flinch as I continued climbing inside my squirting aunt.
Aunt Elle splashed my balls with her fluid again as another climax washed over her. I'd managed to keep myself composed, so I gently withdrew from her drenched vagina and replaced it with two fingers. I wanted to check how slippery it felt before I moved on to her anus. Once I was satisfied, I moved my fingers to her backdoor and made it wet as well.
I knew I wasn't endowed with a very long cock, but when it was fully aroused, I felt that it was quite thicker than most dicks I'd seen on internet videos. I worried that my aunt wouldn't be able to take all of me inside her anus without any pain, so I spread my fingers as far as could go to enlarge her hole.
Once I was certain that Aunty Elle's ass was open enough to accept my aching shaft, I rammed it in without permission, pounding my aunt's cunt as hard as I possibly could until I made her gush her yoni juice on my testicles. Being in control of my desires, I swiftly pulled out of my aunt's pussy and jammed my dick back inside her butt. Aunty Elle moaned loudly as my dick tore into her dark vagina, but before long, she was pushing back, eager to feel the pain.
My meaty organ thrust in and out of my aunt's quim many times before she begged, "Master, no more. Fill your little slut's bottom with your seed and allow me to rest."
Glad to accommodate her, I shifted gears and let go of my control. In that moment, my animal instincts took over, and I growled like a satisfying male lion and shot my sperm into the depths of my aunt's gripping anus. Waiting for more satisfaction, I pulled my sperm-ridden cock out of her and cleaned it with a laundry-stained cloth nearby. Strongly slapping my aunt's tight butt twice, I penetrated her drenched vagina once again. I rested atop my aunt and grabbed her breasts, squeezing as hard as my desperation demanded, and fucked her as roughly as possible. Disregarding her cries, Aunt Elle climaxed three more times before I accidentally filled her shuddering quim with my sperm.
After finishing, my cock returned to its original size and slipped out of my aunt's cunt. I couldn't have her stuck that way, and I suddenly no longer cared about her beloved necklace's fate. I grabbed Aunty Elle under her armpits and forced her to roll over onto me. I was overjoyed at the sight of my small, sexy aunt cleaning herself off of me, so I pulled her hands away and pressed my palms on her large breasts, pressing them as violently as I could.
Aunt Elle flipped over and lay on me. Then, she propped herself up on her elbows and stared at me. "May I be your lover until your parents return, please?" she begged.
That was four years ago. Aunt Elle is still with us, and we remain in a passionate relationship. My parents have been surprised to see that she's still sober since that time. But whenever her fears resurface, we always engage in a punishment ritual and fuck until she no longer needs drugs for fulfillment.
The End.
Read also:
- My Close Friend, a Female, Fondled Me
- Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2
- Raising the Bride: Part 1
- My Initial Experience with Father
Source: www.nice-escort.de
