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| Aunt Charlotte | Back to M | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
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| Aunt Charlotte | Back to M | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
Aunt Charlotte
(M/f, incest, nc, humil, D/s)
By William Drake
"William Drake" <mast_1945@hotmail.com>
"Aunt Charlotte? I'm going down to the park to play ball with the
guys."
Charlotte Gervasi straightened from making her bed and looked over
her shoulder at her fourteen-year-old nephew. He stood in the door of her
bedroom, and she was once again struck by how angelic he looked. So
handsome, yet appearing so innocent. Of course, she suspected he wasn't all
that innocent. She was acutely aware that the she stood between him and the
east-facing window of the room, and that the nightgown she still wore was
thin enough that he could see the outline of her body beneath it. And his
eyes were definitely below her face.
"Alright, Cory," she said softly. "You will be home for lunch,
won't you?"
He nodded and seemed almost unwilling to tear himself away. But
just about the time his reluctance became embarrassingly obvious, he
swallowed, turned away, and left.
A part of Charlotte tried to feel ashamed of teasing the child. But
she had to admit, she'd enjoyed the way he'd looked at her. 'Maybe,' she
told herself, 'it's a natural reaction ... the divorce and all.' It had
been less than a week since her marriage had been formally dissolved. She
was grateful to her older sister for providing her a place to stay ... after
all, there was plenty of room in the old house she rented from Mr. Ainslie
down the street after her own husband had been killed in an automobile
accident ... but the fact that her husband had discarded her so cruelly had
left her feeling ... unattractive. It was kind of pleasant to again see
something like lust in the eyes of a man, even one barely half of her
twenty-seven years, when he looked at her.
Shaking her head, she returned to her self-assigned task. When she
was finished, she drew the gown off over her head. Before reaching for her
blouse and jeans, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Examing
her body was a means of reassuring herself. She was tall ... 5'7" ... with
a thick, luxuriant mane of hair. Her breasts were a full C-cup ... her
waist narrow and supple ... her hips were full and wide ... and her legs
were long and shapely. As she studied herself, she resisted the urge to put
a hand between her legs.
Masturbation had been her secret 'sin' for most of her life. When
she was a child, she'd thought there was something wrong with her. As she'd
gotten older, she'd learned that it was 'normal,' but she'd never completely
shed her distaste for the practice.
Quickly, she pulled on her clothes, now averting her eyes from the
mirror. 'I need to keep busy,' she thought. Getting a job was, of course,
high on her agenda, but she wanted to wait a few weeks first. Eventually,
she would have to find a place of her own, but that would have to wait as
well.
She peeked into Margie's room but, as she expected, it was as neat
as a pin. Margie had always been the family neatnik. As she passed the
door of Cory's room, however, the story was different. She smiled as she
looked in at the ungodly mess. 'A typical teenager,' she thought lovingly.
At least it provided her something useful to do. Not wanting to appear to
have snooped into his privacy, she decided to confine herself to at least
making his bed. As she bent over it, her bare feet touched on something
soft underneath it. Bending down, she pulled up a pair of his undershorts.
That he'd thrown them there wasn't at all surprising. What was was the
gooey liquid stain that covered the front of them. Charlotte held the
garment in her hand and examined it. She'd been married for four years.
She knew what the liquid was.
'So little Cory is really growing up,' she smiled. Almost
unconsciously, she wet the ends of her middle and forefingers with the fluid
and rubbed them together. She wondered whether he'd decorated his shorts in
a wet dream or whether he'd actually been masturbating. She found herself
being attracted to the image of her young nephew, alone in his room,
stroking his young dick. She wondered just what he might fantasize about,
and shivered when she recalled the way he'd looked at her before he'd left.
She looked around the messy room and stood in indecision. She knew
that boys secretly collected books ... pictures ... material with feed to
feed their erotic fantasies. A part of her told herself that he was
entitled to his privacy. 'But if he never knows ...' she mused. There were
numerous places he could have hidden anything smaller then a breadbox, but
he was aware that Margie occasionally got disgusted with his messiness and
cleaned his room. He definitely wouldn't want his mother to stumble across
any pornography. 'Under his mattress!' she thought. Putting any scruples
beside, she knelt alongside Cory's bed and slipped her hand between it and
the box springs. Discovering nothing, she moved to the other side. This
time she immediately came into contact with something.
She grinned as her fingers recognized the slick feel of a magazine.
She drew it out and gasped when she looked at the cover. She had been
expecting it to show the naked form of a woman, but not what she saw. The
woman was there, of course ... and she was unclad. But the woman was
kneeling. Her wrists were bound to a post that stood behind her. And she
wasn't alone. A man stood before her. His back was to the camera and by
his side he held a short, but evil looking, whip. There was a look of fear
on the woman's face, justified by the series of thin, red welts that
decorated her belly and her full, heavy tits.
Awestruck, she opened the magazine. It was a series of shots of
young women, most of them bound, being threatened, tortured, or sexually
used by brute-like men. Charlotte was instantly transported, as she had
been so very often, back nineteen years. She'd been only eight, and the
only other kids in her neighborhood had been three boys, two of them two
years older then her, and one of nine. On the day she remembered so
vividly, the boys had decided to play cowboy. She'd pestered them to allow
her to play with them, but they'd resisted. "Cowboys don't play with
girls," they'd said disparagingly. But she'd pleaded and whined until one
of them suggested that she could be an Indian maiden that they'd captured.
She'd readily agreed. In fact, she'd found the idea exciting.
They'd gone to the park down the street. The three boys had taken
her into the trees. Try as she might, she couldn't recall exactly how the
game had progressed. But she vividly recalled them pushing her to the
ground ... the sight of them standing over her ... evidently uncertain what
to do next until one of them sat down and grabbed her wrists. Another had
then knelt and grasped her ankles, while the third boy had lain down on top
of her and began rubbing his own body up and down across hers. The young
girl had suddenly been overcome with a wave of feelings she had never before
experienced. Something ... the feel of hands holding her wrists above her
head ... the other pair pinning her ankles to the ground ... the third boy
grinning down at her as his body ground into her own ...
She'd never been so excited. She'd struggled, but she was aware
that her twistings and turnings were more intended to increase the amount of
contact, than to escape her imprisonment. Her excitement only grew as the
boys traded places. Each had taken a turn at 'subduing' their captive.
Charlotte could never recall how the game had ended. She had no
idea whether she had escaped or been released. But she recalled clearly how
she had felt as she ran home, bounded up the stairs to her room, locked the
door, ripped down her play shorts and fallen face down across her bed. He
hands had seemed to find there way by their own volition down under her
belly and between her thighs. As she'd stroked herself, she'd seen ever so
vividly the three boys standing over her prone form ... felt their hands
restraining her ... remembered the feeling of their immature bodies rubbing
across her own ...
She'd not been able to quit until her body had quaked three times.
It was a sensation she'd never before experienced, but one she'd repeated
numerous times over the years. Once she reached puberty, the imaginings had
become more elaborate. The only common thread they'd contained was her own
helplessness and vulnerability.
Her natural beauty, not to mention her rapidly developing body,
had made her quite popular with the boys once she reached high school.
She'd engaged in the activities that most of the girls did. She'd 'parked'
... she'd necked ... she'd even allowed boys to begin clumsily groping her
body. Naturally, remembering all of her mother's admonitions about what
boys thought of 'easy' girls, she'd only let things go so far before she'd
objected. She hated to admit it to herself, but she'd always been a bit
disappointed that when she'd said 'no' ... when she'd grabbed the wrist of a
boy whose hand was sliding up beneath her skirt ... they'd always stopped.
Many a night she'd return from a date and lie in bed, her eyes tightly
closed and her fingers clawing at her wet pussy as she'd imagined him
throwing her down, ripping her panties from her bottom, and having his evil
way with her.
So Charlotte had become a rarity in this modern age. She'd gone
to her marriage bed a twenty-three year old virgin.
She'd never been able to decide whether the experience was a
disappointment or not. Stevie had been patient and gentle. She'd enjoyed
the intimacy of his caresses. She'd been tremendously excited when he had
finally rolled himself on top of her. The pain as he'd slowly entered her
and broke through her maidenhead hadn't bothered her in the least. But she'd
found that as pleasant as the joining was, it didn't match the thrills she'd
been able to give herself.
The marriage hadn't been acrimonious. It was just that the two of
them never seemed to be able to develop a sense of intimacy. The day he'd
shamefacedly told her that he'd met another woman and was in love with her,
she'd been more relieved than upset.
Charlotte continued to page slowly through the magazine. Her
breath caught at the picture of a young girl bound in a barn-like setting.
She was naked, suspended upside down, her wrists bound in her back. Her
face was on a level with the crotch of the man before her. He still wore a
flannel shirt, but his pants and shorts were down around his ankles. With a
sigh of resignation, she opened the button at the waist of her jeans and
slid her hand in under it. As her fingers searched through her silken bush,
she studied the picture. The man's hands gripped the back of the helpless
woman's head. Her lips stretched tightly around his thick, stiff male
organ. His face wasn't visible in the shot, but Charlotte's imagination
filled in a grinning expression. As the tips of her fingers stroked the
sides of her clitoris, she could hear him ... 'Suck that cock, bitch! Use
that tongue on it while I fuck that tight, little throat of yours, you cheap
whore!'
The young divorcee had to use all of her imagination to see
herself in the bound girl's position. In truth, she'd never had a cock in
her mouth. Once, on their honeymoon, she'd been lying next to her groom,
kissing his chest, and his hand had tried pushing her head lower. When
she'd reached his belly button, the pressure had persisted, but she'd
stopped and murmured, 'no.' She'd expected him to press harder ... she'd
almost cum as she'd pictured him holding the root of his organ upright in
one hand and forcing her face down onto it.
But at her weakly voiced protest, Steve had stopped. What's more,
in their four years of marriage, he'd never once again made such a move.
Charlotte flipped the page. She gasped at the next picture. This
woman was a bit older than the last. Her waist was a trifle thicker, but
her breasts were even more pronounced. She lay on a bed on her side, her
wrists bound to the headboard. One man was pressed to her chest, another
lay against her back. Their cocks were clearly visible, invading each of
her nether orifices. With a groan, the divorcee closed her eyes and rolled
onto her stomach. The stroking fingers forced their way down further ...
the tip entering her now-soaked vagina ... her fingernails scratching at the
tender tissues as the ball of her hand pressed hard against her now
trembling clit.
"Unghhhhh .... unghhhhh .... UNGHHHH!!!"
Her hips levered themselves up from the bed as her body spasmed
... an orgasm several times as strong as she'd ever received with Steve's
cock laboring in her pussy.
Charlotte lay there for a long time, gasping. Finally she
withdrew her fingers from her satiated pussy and rolled over on her back.
She didn't like what she was thinking. But she didn't struggle
long. Finally she rose, replaced the magazine to its hiding place, and with
her jeans still unsnapped went back to her room. Mentally, she was
reviewing her wardrobe.
+ + + + +
"I made some tuna salad for you, honey."
Charlotte looked over her shoulder at her nephew and was rewarded
by the stunned look on his sweet face. She'd thought long and hard enough
about setting up the scene. She had selected a pair of cut-off shorts that
left the underslopes of her butt cheeks hanging out and a blouse that was
semi-transparent. She'd stood posing at the sink washing the bowls she'd
used to mix up lunch for half-an-hour, knowing that when he returned, the
sun would silhouette her full breasts perfectly for the fourteen-year-old.
She quickly dried her hands, then crossed to him and, being three
inches taller than his five foot four inches, bent slightly to kiss his
cheek. As she did, she felt her breast press against his arm. She was
actually surprised to feel the hardness of her nipple, wondering just when
it had become so solid.
"Ummm ... you're sweaty, honey," she smiled. "Are you sure you
were playing ball? Or were you out playing around with a girlfriend."
"N-no," he stammered. "I was playing ball. Really, Aunt
Charlotte."
She almost regretted teasing the boy. But her eyes were sure they
picked up the slightest of tremors at the front of his shorts. "That's
okay, baby. But you'd better take a shower before lunch. Alright?"
He nodded silently and she squeezed his upper arm. As he
scampered up the stairs, she watched his cute butt moving, smiled and licked
her lips.
+ + + + +
Cory's mind was on his sumptuous aunt as he gently soaped his cock
and balls. Despite his attempt to control his reaction, his dick began to
swell. For a moment he was tempted to start stroking himself seriously.
'Damn,' he thought. 'How could Aunt Charlotte's husband ever let that body
get away? If I could have that around whenever I wanted it ...'
He bit his lips and restrained himself. Lord knows that since his
aunt had arrived at the home, he had done that enough ... imagining her
naked ... picturing her writhing beneath him ... visualizing how her heavy
breasts would feel under his hands ... But he knew she'd be waiting for him
in the kitchen, so he decided to wait until he had more time to give his
imagination full rein. Drying off, he slipped on a pair of fresh underpants
and move as quietly as he was able down the hall to his bedroom to finish
dressing. In the doorway he froze. His aunt was lying on her side on his
bed. Her upper leg was drawn up, leaving the underside of her full thigh
exposed up to her ass.
It took several seconds for his eyes to register what she had in
front of her ... his most recent 'stroke magazine!' In that moment his
stomach seemed to sink all the way to the floor. Never in his life had he
felt so trapped ... so exposed.
Charlotte looked up and saw him. To his surprise, she smiled.
She patted the bed next to the magazine.
"It's okay, Cory," she said softly. "Come here and sit down."
The young boy didn't move ... couldn't move. His mind was as
frozen as his body. Never had he felt so ashamed ... so worthless. What
would she think of him? What would she say to him? What would he do when
she showed the filthy pictures to his mother? For the first time in his
life, if he could have died at that moment, he would have happily done so.
"Cory? I said it's okay. Please come and sit next to me, dear."
That he complied meant only that there was nothing else he could
do. He couldn't stand there in the doorway forever ... he couldn't run down
the street half-naked ... most of all, he couldn't do what he really wanted
to do ... to make himself invisible. So he moved slowly over to the bed and
sat on the edge, careful not to actually come in contact with the offending
magazine, his back to his aunt and his eyes downcast. He jumped as she laid
her hand softly on his bare back.
"Don't feel bad, honey. You're just doing what all boys do." He
tried to think of something to say ... to deny that he used the dirty
magazine to stimulate himself ... to pretend that he looked at the pictures
solely out of curiosity. But that sounded lame even to him. "All boys your
age do that." She giggled lightly as her fingers began stroking his back
comfortingly. "In fact, all girls do too."
Through the miasma of depression at being found out and the
confusion of her lack of recrimination, that one thought penetrated.
"They ... You mean ...?"
Charlotte shifted her position, rising to sit next to him. Her
hand went around his waist and hugged him. "You mean girls? Of course they
do, sweetheart. In fact, I do to. Do you think after being married for so
long ... being kinda used to being ... well ... I have to admit it. I play
with myself. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
Cory's prick had shrunk to next to nothing when he'd seen what his
aunt had discovered. Now as he pictured her own hand between her legs ...
playing with her own pussy ... it began, against his will, to swell again.
Embarrassed, he turned slightly away from her. But this brought her
encircling hand around further to his belly.
She hugged him even tighter and leaned forward to whisper in his
ear. "Sex is natural, baby. And everyone is curious about it. Everyone
has fantasies about it, too. Even girls ... grown women ... get ...
hungry." With a shock, he realized that her hand was sliding lower ... her
fingertips actually insinuated themselves under the waistband of his
underpants. He breathed in her compelling perfume and wished his dick would
quit reacting to the nearness of her
"Aunt Charlotte," he whispered. You ..." Then his words froze.
None of his history of sexual fantasies had prepared him for this moment.
What was he supposed to say? What if she didn't know what her searching
hand was doing to him?
Charlotte also found the scene incredibly exciting. She felt the
warmth of his body against her own ... the hardness of her swelling nipples
pressed against his back. Her fingertips were only an inch or less from the
base of his young cock. He was so ... so innocent! She felt her own pussy
beginning to moisten at the thought of openly touching ... of fondling his
underage organ.
"It's okay, honey," she whispered. "Men have penises, women have
pussies. It's simply a fact of life." Her fingers made contact with the
soft, silky hairs at the base of his belly. "They'll always want each
other." Her mind was now in free fall ... her words poured out without any
internal censor. "Do you know that last night I dreamt about you? About
you and me ... being together ..."
As her fingers reached the root of his growing organ, Cory lifted
his head for the first time since sitting down and groaned. "Ohhhhh ....
Aunt Charlotte!"
In her fantasy, when he'd found her on his bed her nephew had been
so entranced by her body when he'd seen her there on his bed that he'd
entered, ripped her tight, short shorts from her hips, and brutally taken
her. But she knew now that she couldn't rush him. The reality ... his
reticence ... his innocence ... were exciting her nearly as much as the
imagined brutality would have.
His head was back now, partially laying on her shoulder. The
warmth of his gristly organ beneath her fingers ... the feel of his silky
pubic hair ... the sound of the shallow gasps of his breath ... all those
sensations were causing her pussy to almost gush!
"Do you want to know about my dream, sweetheart? Do you want to
know what I dreamt about?" Her nephew didn't respond, but her question was
rhetorical anyway. In truth, the sound of her own voice was stimulating her
as much as it was him. "I dreamt that you came into my room at night ...
that I was lying there asleep ... and naked." Cory's hips started to jerk.
She licked around the rim of his ear and continued. "You put your hands on
me ... on my breasts ... my hips ... my pussy."
"Oh God!" he moaned. "Oh ... GAWD!"
She knew his crisis was now out of control. Her hand slipped up
the short distance to the head of his adolescent penis, stretching the
waistband of his undershorts, gripped harder and increased the speed of her
strokes.
"That's okay, baby," she crooned. "You can cum. Cum in auntie's
hot, little hand."
No sooner were the words uttered than her nephew gasped, his prick
jerked violently, and her fingers were flooded with his warm, sticky flow.
In many ways it was the most exciting sexual experience she'd had to date.
She wrenched and massaged his meat as the eruption continued, soaking her
hand and the front of his only garment.
Finally, as his orgasm reached an end, she ceased moving, keeping
her now gooey fingers in place, rythymically squeezing and releasing his
young penis. As the youngster's breath returned to something approaching
normal, he sank forward on the bed, face down. Charlotte slowly pulled her
hand from his underpants and looked down at him. 'The poor little guy
doesn't know what to do,' she realized. She leaned forward and kissed the
back of his neck ever so gently.
"You can rest now, baby," she whispered. "Lunch will be ready
when you are."
She paused on the way to the bathroom, intending to wash her hand.
On an impulse, she raised it before her face and studied the way it
glistened in the light. A droplet oozed down over her index finger.
Overcome with curiosity, she extended her tongue and licked it from her
finger. Then ... she smiled.
+ + + + +
The next morning, Charlotte stood nervously by the kitchen sink.
'Damn," she thought. 'If I beat these fucking eggs any longer, they're
going to rot!'
Cory had never come down for lunch the previous day. She had
waited ... and waited. Finally she heard the front door open and close. He
had gone out. And he hadn't returned until after Margy had arrived home
from work. Not only that, he had gone to bed before either of them.
Charlotte had realized that, after what had happened that day,
there was no sense trying to go back. As soon as her sister had left that
morning, she dug through her things to find the teddy that she hadn't worn
since her honeymoon. And she hadn't even bothered with the skimpy bra and
panties that went with it!
"Uh ... Aunt Charlotte?"
The woman jerked in surprise. Looking over her shoulder, she saw
her nephew standing in the doorway. He wore only his pajama bottoms, his
feet and his hairless chest bare, standing there with a look of complete
youthful uncertainty on his face.
"Good morning, honey," she smiled. "Do you feel like eggs this
morning?"
He stood for a few moments silently. Then, as if suddenly
overcome, he took three quick steps to her side, wrapped his arms around
her, and pressed himself tightly to her. "Oh God, Aunt Charlotte, I love
you!"
Even she hadn't realized just how nervous she'd been until she
felt the intense wave of relief flood through her. The feeling of his
stiffening, young penis pressing against her hip gave her further
reassurance.
She turned to face him, took his face in her hands, bent down and
kissed him deeply. "And I love you too, baby," she whispered. "C'mon,
honey. The eggs can wait." She took his hand in hers and led him from the
kitchen. She could feel his eyes on the bare backs of her full thighs, and
even that excited her. Her original intention had been to take him back
upstairs to her bed, but she got no further than the living room and decided
that was good enough. Turning to face him, she released his hand and
grasped the hem of her short garment. She drew it off over her head and
stood before him naked. Putting her hands above her head, she turned in a
slow pirouette. Cory's eyes looked as large as saucers, but he stood
motionless, evidently totally uncertain what to do next.
"You can touch me, sweetheart," she said. "You can touch me
anywhere."
That was all the invitation the young boy needed. His hands shot
out to cup and squeeze her pendulous breasts. As he put his lips around one
already marble-hard nipple, it felt to her as if there were a live
electrical wire connecting it to her clitoris.
"Oh damn! Cory!" she moaned. Her own hands went to the waistband
of his pajama bottoms and yanked them down to just above his knees. One
hand reached down to gently cradle his testicles ... the other grasped his
cock.
'Not as big as Steve's,' she thought. In truth, it was nearly an
inch and a half shorter than her ex-husband's, and also not quite as thick.
'But he's only fourteen. It will grow.'
Smaller than she was used to or not, the warmth and the hardness
of her nephew's organ in her hand was driving her crazy. She had to possess
it totally, and she had to right now! She backed up toward the couch,
pulling Cory along by his genitals. When she felt the cushion against the
backs of her legs, she sank back, her thighs splayed wide, and pulled him
down beside her. Releasing his balls, she grabbed his wrist and pulled his
hand down to the base of her belly.
"Feel me, Cory," she whimpered. "Feel how wet I am. That's how
much I want yo, baby. I want you in me!"
The fourteen-year-old made little mewing noises in his throat as
his fingers greedily explored the sodden flesh of her crotch. Whether by
accident or instinct, two of them found there way to the opening of her cunt
and slipped inside.
"Oh shit, baby," she cried. Her hip jerked up against his
fingers, burying them deeper. "That's where it goes. That's where your
sweet cock is going to go." She crudely tugged him up and over her by his
penis. "Put it in, baby. Please! Please fuck me!"
Never in her life had she been so horny! Never in her life had
her crotch been so wet! As she felt the head of his cock at the entrance of
her vagina, her free hand grabbed one slim, young asscheek and pulled him to
her with all her strength. She moaned as she felt the diminutive cock slide
down into her belly. To her surprise, she found her walls contracting,
making it a comfortable fit.
But the real surprise was when she began ogasming before he was
even fully seated. She ... whose ex had always complained how long it took
her to cum! She ... who so many times had had to bring herself off after
her husband had labored, cum up inside her, drifted off to sleep leaving her
unsatisfied ...
"Oh migod ... CORY!" she screamed. Both hands now dug themselves
into her nephew's skinny butt, cramming him into her cunt until she felt his
belly crushing her own. So lost was she in her own body that she never even
sensed her lover's moment of crisis. Only after her body had quit shaking
uncontrollably feel his load in her cunt ... did she look up and see him
looking down at her ... his eyes filled with tears.
"Aunt Charlotte ..." he whispered.
She drew his face down to hers and kissed his lips softly. "I
know, dear. It's a big thing for you to think about." She smiled up at
him. "But you're not a virgin anymore, are you? You've fucked your very
own aunt." She giggled and continued. "And we have hours and hours until
your mommy comes home, don't we?"
+ + + + +
It was one of those not too warm, pleasant September mornings.
Charlotte Gervasi lay, fresh from a long, luxuriant bath, sprawled on her
back on the bed, her eyes closed, wearing only a pair of her skimpiest
panties, the open window allowing a soft breeze to sweep over her body. She
was feeling awfully damned pleased with life and with herself. She had been
living with her sister and nephew now for three and a half weeks. Margy
didn't seem to be too anxious for her to move, or possibly she realized that
the job her little sister had taken, the night clerk at the local
twenty-four hour convenience mart, didn't pay enough for her to have her own
place.
Not that the young woman was in any hurry to move. It was true
that Cory was no longer there with her all day long. A week ago he'd begun
his freshman year of high school. However, he got home every day an hour and
a half before his mother, and that gave the two of them plenty of time to
enjoy the games she'd been teaching him. 'And he went off to high school
with a hell of a lot more confidence in himself than he's ever had before,'
she thought with a smile.
Her left hand crept down over her belly as she remembered
yesterday's lesson. She had been down in the basement when he got home,
pulling the clothes from the dryer. He'd found here there. As she
remembered the feel of his hard dick pressing against her ass ... his hands
reaching around to cup and squeeze her ample breasts ... her fingers began
stroking her dampening clitoris. 'God ... the way he'd almost ripped my
shorts pulling them down ...'
"Are you dreaming of me, cunt? Or that wimpy little nephew of
yours."
Charlotte's eyes sprang open and her lips parted in shock.
Standing over her, happily leering down at her exposed body, was Mr.
Ainslie! She noted incongruously that he must have been working outside.
He wore a pair of stained jeans, but was naked to the waist, showing off his
broad shoulders and his hairy, burly chest, glistening lightly with a sheen
of sweat.
"Wha ...? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Don't forget I have the keys, bitch. I own this place.
Remember?"
Suddenly remembering her nudity, Charlotte pulled her hand from
her panties and placed her hands over her breasts. "Goddamit," she yelled.
"Get out of here!"
"Oh, I don't think I wanna do that," he said, sitting down
familiarly next to her on the bed. "You see ... if I leave I just might
have to make a public stink about what's been going on here."
Charlotte froze. 'Oh God,' she thought frantically. 'What does
he know?' She was afraid to say anything for fear of revealing something he
might not truly be aware of.
"Yeah," he continued, placing one large hand on her thigh. "No
telling what Margy might say when she hears that her very own little sister
has been balling her dear, sweet, little boy."
"You're lying," Charlotte spat.
Ainslie laughed. "Sure I am. Just like those tapes I have are
lying. The ones where you're begging him to fuck you harder ... deeper.
You see, after you'd been here about a week, I just happened to stop by one
day. You didn't answer when I knocked, so I just came in. Yep." His hand
squeezed her leg. "The two of you were right here on this bed. Ol' Cory
was on his back and his slutty aunt was riding him like a real cowgirl."
He released his grip on her leg and pushed one of her hands to the
side easily. He replaced it on her breast with his own and began caressing
it. The touch startled Charlotte into action. She flipped over on her
stomach intending to crawl from the bed ... just somehow to get away from
this man. But he was too fast for her. Before she could gather her legs
under her, he grabbed on of her calves and pulled her back as easily as he
would a rag doll. His other hand grasped one of her wrists and bent it up
between her shoulder blades, causing her to yelp in pain.
"Listen to me, tramp," he growled threateningly. "Don't think
I'll stop at telling your sister. I'll bet the newspapers would love to
print pictures of a nice looking piece of ass that fucks her own underage
nephew. That little prick is underage. You ever heard of contributing to
the delinquency of a minor? That's good enough to send you to prison! A
cute little number like you will spend half her time on her knees eating
every lezzie prison guard's pussy."
Charlotte hated the idea that she was beginning to cry ... that
she was showing weakness before this foul man. "Please," she whimpered. "I
didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't hurting him"
Ainslie grunted. She wasn't sure what he meant, but he at least
released her arm. She could feel his eyes on her barely covered ass ... the
backs of her full thighs. She didn't even move when his hands grasped the
waistband of her panties and crudely yanked them down to her knees.
"Oh yeah," he whispered as if to himself. "That's the finest ass
I've seen in a long time." He sank one hand into each of her butt cheeks,
kneading them roughly.
Charlotte suddenly became aware that the quilt she was lying on
had become somewhat rumpled up under her belly as she'd tried to escape.
One large wrinkle was pressed up against her clitoris, and the diminutive
organ was starting to grow. She was overcome with a sense of shame. It was
bad enough to find herself in this wicked man's power. But reacting to it
was worse!
The mattress moved slightly as she felt him rise. When she heard
his zipper being pulled down, she risked a look over her shoulder. As he
shoved his jeans down, she gasped. His dick was almost completely erect,
and it was the largest one she'd ever seen ... nearly two inches longer than
her ex's, and it looked to her wide eyes as if it was as thick as her wrist!
It was gnarled and his crotch sported a massive growth of kinky, black and
gray hairs. There was one prominent blue vein that curved irregularly from
the top of his erection and continued down along the side. 'My gawd!' she
thought frantically. 'That monster will rip me apart!'
Ainslie followed her eyes, then grinned at her. "You like that,
huh? Maybe you'll have to get used to it, but once you do that puny thing
your nephew has between his legs will never satisfy you again." She felt
his powerful hands pushing her asscheeks wide apart, then the feel of his
weight shifting on the mattress. As he leaned forward, his cock laid itself
in her anal groove. She suddenly realized what he intended.
"Oh God, no!" she cried. "Not there! You can fuck me, but not
there. You'll kill me!"
He chortled as he drew the broad head of his erection back to
where it laid right on her quivering anus. "I don't think so, bitch. I'll
bet things almost this big have come out of this hole. And you should have
heard the way your big sister squealed and begged me to stop the first time
I shoved it up her nice, fat ass. She didn't like it at first either. But
now she begs for it up there."
His words stunned Charlotte. She didn't want to believe him, but
she suddenly remembered all the times since she'd moved in that Margy had
run over to his place of an evening, always 'to ask him something about the
house' ... how quiet and satisfied she'd seemed on her return.
Ainslie looked down into the helpless woman's anal chasm. Putting
his thumb on top of the head of his cock, he pressed down. It wasn't easy.
Her muscle automatically squeezed shut. As he put his weight down on her,
he watched as the resisting sphincter was pushed down ... down into her own
rectum. "Oh ... yeah, baby!" he groaned. "Nice ... tight ... asshole!"
Charlotte opened her mouth to scream in pain, but only a faint
squeal came out.
Her tormentor laughed in victory as the circular muscle finally
gave up and the head popped in. He ground down harder and watched the first
three inches of his massive weapon buried itself in her magnificent behind.
The woman on the bed felt like a live butterfly being pinned down
by a huge needle being driven right through her squirming body. Never in
her life had she experienced anything like this! It felt as if a telephone
pole was ripping into her ass! She was certain that she'd bleed to death
there ... die while this rapist uncaringly used her body for his private,
personal pleasure.
She heard him groan as he sank himself up into her deeper. She
was afraid to move ... afraid to make a sound. But even through the intense
pain, she felt her clit reacting ... being pressed harder than ever down on
the roughness of the quilt. She couldn't believe that what was causing her
so much agony behind was actually stimulating her cunt! The pain in her
backside and the thrills being radiated from her clit seemed to migrate and
meet in her belly, each reinforcing the other.
Still he ground down, slowly sinking more and more gristly dick
down into her upturned ass. She heard him exhale loudly as his belly came
to rest on her pillowy mounds.
"Goddamn!" he exclaimed happily. "Fuck, but you're tight! It's
like having my cock in a fucking vise!"
As he began moving his hips in a circle, enjoying the feel of his
penis rubbing across her sensitive rectal walls, Charlotte's own excitement
grew. Almost unconsciously, her anal sphincter tried its best to contract
and release. Ainslie couldn't help noticing, and he laughed. Even that ...
the way she was abasing herself under his onslaught ... seemed to add to her
own growing arousal.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I knew what the fuck you were the first
moment I saw you, cunt. You're even worse than your sister, aren't you?
Just a fucking piece of meat with holes in it ... a cheap slut who loves a
nice, fat cock reaming her out!"
Charlotte wanted to scream out a denial ... to proclaim her
innocence to this man and to the world in general. But her body was
betraying her. Her nipples ached to feel his fingers twisting and pulling.
As he drew several inches out and slammed himself down into her so hard it
drove the breath from her, her hips began moving side to side, scraping the
material of the quilt across her enflamed genitalia.
"Beg for it, bitch," he taunted her. "Beg for what you want!"
"Oh God!" she cried out. "Yes! Fuck me! Do it! Fuck my ass!
Fuck it hard!"
As the man did his best to comply, she drove a hand in under her
belly. While the room resounded with the sound of his hips slamming into
her ass, she clawed frantically at her cunt, her own fingernails now causing
her a second, delicious pain.
"Are you ready for it, bitch? Are you ready for a quart of hot,
sticky scum up that fat, worthless ass of yours?"
"Ohhhhhh ... yes! Harder! Hurt me! HARDER!"
She barely noticed the feel of his teeth biting into the nape of
her neck ... barely heard his rythymic grunts as he felt his cum fight past
the tight constriction of her sphincter, shoot up the length of his cock and
splatter her rectal walls. Her own body was reacting with an intensity
she'd never felt before. Nothing ... not her husband ... not Cory ... not
even her own fingerings as she'd mentally explored her own deepest and most
shameful dreams ... had ever brought her the type of bliss her body was
feeling at this moment. It felt to her as if she had no control ... as if
every muscle in her body was contracting in some fantastic moment of sheer
joy.
The room seemed to fade out of focus ... then she remembered ...
nothing!
+ + + + +
When Charlotte came to, the first thought she had was that she
must have stirred. She was lying on her back, staring upwards at the
ceiling. Even without looking, she could feel the warmth of a body lying
next to her. She looked over at him. The first thing she saw was his spent
penis lying across his thigh, pointing in her direction. Even soft, it
looked gargantuan to her. It looked ... gross, still glistening with his
own spendings. Worse, it showed small traces of her blood ... less than the
pain would have led her to expect ... and streaks of brown, the source of
which she tried not to think about.
The sight of it fascinated the young woman. She looked up at
Ainslie's face. His eyes were closed ... his hands were interlaced under
his head. He appeared to be asleep. She found herself curious ... feeling
an almost irresistible impulse to touch the messy member. Her fingers
slowly reached out.
"You want to touch it? Go right ahead." She looked up at him.
He was grinning down at her. "In fact ..." With surprising speed for a man
his size, he pushed himself up and swung a knee over her body. He ended up
kneeling over her, his gooey, flaccid organ dangling over her face as his
hands grasped her wrists and pinned them above her head. "If you're going
to play with it, I think you should clean it first. Don't you? After all,
it was your ass that made it all dirty."
Charlotte looked up at the tube of flesh backed up by a pair of
hairy balls hanging over her mouth. It looked almost precisely as her years
of masturbatory daydreams had suggested. It was ugly! But it somehow
fascinated her. Too many times had she imagined this moment not to realize
exactly what he meant. But she'd never once taken a man's organ in her
mouth ... not her husband's ... not Cory's, although she'd planned the time
when she would wrap her lips around his fourteen year old dick. Now she was
face-to-face with one ... an oversized slab of meat coated with this
stranger's cum ... her blood ... the stains of her own shit!
She wanted to say, 'no.' Instead, her mouth opened.
Without a word, Ainslie lowered his soft, rancid organ into her
mouth. Equally silently, Charlotte closed her lips about it softly and
began gently sucking.
It surprised her how ... right ... the dick felt encased in her
warm, wet mouth. It had a slightly metallic taste, and she wondered idly
whether that was from his cum, her blood, or the stains of her own bowels.
It didn't matter. She just knew that sucking it was as natural as a baby
sucking a tit. Her tongue rolled around it, exploring the loose foreskin
... laving the sides of the rod. And when the taste disappeared, she
happily continued her oral attentions.
It felt just as natural that, eventually, the organ began to grow.
In fact, the effectiveness of her ministrations sent another thrill down
through her body. She wanted to ask the man above her to release a hand so
she could start playing with herself again, but with her mouth so full, she
couldn't. Instead, she tried to make her request through mumbling, but he
wasn't interested.
"Ummmmmm ... that's a good little bitch," he murmured. "Yeah.
You're a natural born cocksucker, you are. Use that tongue on my dick!
Yeah. Just like that, baby."
Charlotte gave up trying to signal her own desires as the invading
penis became longer and harder. Ainslie was now beginning to get caught up
in his own needs ... starting to fuck her face with it. She felt his
dangling balls hitting her chin every time he shoved it into her mouth, and
she began having to concentrate on simply timing her breathing as each push
closed off her air.
"Fuck! Yes! Suck it, slut! You love having my big, fat cock
fucking your stupid face, don't you?" The back of her head was pinned to
the mattress as his thrusts became violent enough that each one lodged the
head of his cock in the tight constriction at the top of her throat. His
belly rubbed her nose around as he ground his hips in circles before
withdrawing and slamming himself home again. All thoughts of satisfying her
own body fled before the sudden, overwhelming need to gratify this man who
was brutally using her mouth as he would a back-alley whore's cunt! "You're
good, bitch! Not quite as good as your cheap-assed sister, but damn good!"
Time became irrelevant to the trapped woman. She sensed only the
stiff organ using her face ... the heat of his body ... her own delicious
helplessness and vulnerability. Later, she would have no idea how much time
had passed before he grunted explosively, paused in his movements, then, if
anything, became more violent in pushing himself down into her stretched
mouth.
For the first time in her life, Charlotte tasted and felt a man's
scummy load being spurted deep into her mouth. Convulsively, she swallowed,
trying desperately not to lose a drop of his wonderful load.
When he was done, she stayed exactly where she was. After all, he
hadn't given her permission to release him.
After several minutes, Ainslie's breathing returned to normal. He
moved his ass back, bringing it down to sit squarely on her breasts. As he
did, he grasped the back of her head and drew it up from the mattress,
keeping his once again softening penis in her mouth.
"I'll bet after all that work, you're a thirsty little pig, aren't
you?"
The woman wrinkled her brow, uncertain just what he meant. Only
when he grinned at her so cruelly, did his intent begin to dawn on her.
'No,' she thought frantically. 'He can't mean that! No man could
even dream of ...'
Her answer was a flood of hot, acrid piss released into her mouth.
Never in her life had she felt so worthless ... so much like a cheap whore
... no! ... not like a whore, because at least a whore was a woman ... so
much like some captive pig there only for a man to use and abuse ...
As she struggled to gulp down his liquid waste ... as she felt it
warming her throat and her stomach ... she wondered what he would do to her
next. If he also had her sister enthralled, what would he do with the two
of them?
Then she felt her cunt begin to itch again.
FINIS
Master William
mast_1945@hotmail.com