Literotic asexstories – Cool Aunt Trish by djrip,djrip
“Mom! Mom, I know, okay? I just thought Aunt Trish lives up that way…”
Ben’s mother was glaring at him now. He kept talking, just, slower.
“…I could visit a few campuses from there…”
Her foot was tapping rapidly.
“…see some of the dorms…”
“I haven’t spoken to my sister in over a year, Ben.”
“I know, Mom.”
“Not since mojito-gate.”
“I know.”
“So just who is going to arrange this excursion?”
“Well…” The glare intensified. He figured he’d better just spit it out and hope for the best. “I kinda emailed her already and she wrote back and said I should come visit.”
“I can’t believe you! Going behind my back like that… Well at least I don’t have to talk to her this way. Come for a visit. Ha! You know she’s barely any older than you?”
“I know, Mom.”
“Well, eight years, I suppose. But still. As if she could be responsible enough to take care of you…”
“I am an adult now, Mom. I can take care of myself.”
“Of course dear.” She shook her head. “You mind her when you’re there, you hear me? You may be eighteen but she’s still your aunt and you’re staying under her roof.”
“Yes Mom.”
—–
Ben’s mom texted her sister that they were there and kicked him out of the car by the sidewalk. At least they were talking again, he thought. A little. He shouldered his backpack as the car pulled away, and walked over to the barred door. He hit the buzzer and heard a familiar voice as the lock clicked open.
“Come on up bud.”
That voice brought back a flood of memories. She hadn’t been on friendly terms with Mom in some time, but before that, she used to visit constantly. Aunt Trish. She’d always been the cool aunt. In some ways more like a sister than an aunt. She’d been in high school when he was in elementary. In college when he was in jr. high. She was an independent young woman out on her own while he was in high school, and through all these stages, she always had a smile for him, always made him feel included in her more exciting, more adult life.
She was on the third floor and there was no elevator. Ben took the steps a couple at a time and then counted off the doors in the empty corridor until he saw the one he wanted had been left ajar. He nudged it open and went in, slipping his backpack off his shoulder.
“Ha!” she cried, slamming into him. Already off balance because of the backpack, he spiraled down, laughing. Trish tumbled down, too. She was on top of him, just for a second. She had on a halter top, one of those where it looked like a bandana was just tied in front with a couple of strings around the neck and back. So when she fell on him it hardly seemed like she had any top on at all; he felt her breasts bounce against him through the thin fabric draped loosely over them. Then she was pulling him up by one hand, her old familiar grin in place.
“She just dropped you and took off, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Figures.” She sat cross-legged on the couch. Her long legs were distracting in the cutoff jean shorts she was wearing. Ben blinked and refocused higher up, on her twinkling eyes.
“It’s been a while,” she said. “You sure are getting big.”
“I guess…”
“Wanna watch some Netflix?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Netflix and chill,” she said with a smirk.
“Heh, yeah, I–”
“I got us some TV dinners,” she said, hopping up. The freezer opened and then Ben heard the microwave running for a minute.
“Here you go,” she said, handing one off to him.
“Thanks, Aunt Trish.”
“You’re all grown up now, Ben. You can just call me Trish if you want.”
“Okay. Trish.” He smiled. “I still like to think of you as my cool aunt, though.”
She looked at him for a moment, faintly amused. “That does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Cool Aunt Trish.”
Ben forced a chuckle. She was so pretty. He didn’t want to let slip what else he thought of her as–his hot aunt. Sitting here now, all alone with her, was kind of stressful. He was trying not to look down at her bare, tanned shoulders with just that flimsy bit of string around her neck. And certainly not the square of thin fabric dangling loosely over her chest, or the mounds created in that fabric by the features of her anatomy underneath. Quite pointy mounds, actually.
He licked his lips, and turned his focus to the tray of food in his lap. Trish sat down close enough for the skin of her thigh to touch his jeans, and ate her frozen dinner next to him while they watched a comedy special. Soon they were both laughing so much their faces hurt and he forgot about the awkwardness he’d been feeling around her. She was just cool Aunt Trish, like old times.
“Let me take these to the kitchen,” she said, grabbing his tray before he could object.
As she walked out he again found himself looking at her. From behind she almost appeared to be naked; her slender back was uncovered except by a string tied in the middle, her dark hair hiding the other string around her neck and dangling down her bare back silkily, and her shorts were very short. Wisps of white thread from the cut denim fluttered over the bottoms of her partially exposed ass cheeks as her long legs carried her away. He swallowed, feeling nervous again, and focused his attention on the TV.
He heard water running for a minute. Then a little banging around before she came back in, her breasts bouncing noticeably beneath that barely-there top. She looked like she had no idea she might be having an effect on him. She just flounced back onto the sofa beside him with a little wooden box in her hands and flipped it open on her lap, revealing rolling papers and a plastic baggie full of green plant matter. It had to be weed, he thought.
“Here,” she said, casually handing him the bag. “Break some of this up for me.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” he said, uncertain. Or, certain, that his mom would never approve of this. He didn’t really know what he was doing. His fingers fumbled around as he brought out a pungent nugget and started crumbling it, leaning over her lap to let the pieces fall in the box as she fiddled with a rolling paper. His eyes kept straying toward her bare thighs. He felt a drop of sweat roll down his neck.
She glanced at him with a sly smile. “Have you ever done this before, Ben?”
“I–” He looked up, suddenly tongue tied. He didn’t want her to think he was still just a kid, after all. “I’ve smoked a little bit,” he said.
“Yeah? One of your friends give you a puff?”
He’d had precisely one drag from the joint his buddy passed around at a party after their graduation. Perceptive, this aunt of his. “I mean, um…”
She laughed softly. “Don’t worry bud. I got you.” She swept his pile of crumbled herb into her folded paper and deftly rolled it up, licking up and down one side. Ben watched her, fascinated. Something about the way the tip of her tongue slid along the edge was just so appealing to watch. Then she held it between her lips and got it lit with a couple of draws before holding it out to him.
Her fingers touched his when he took it from her. He just held it for a second. Then he took a drag and handed it back, trying to hold in a cough. Her fingers brushed his again. He watched as her lips pursed around the joint. His scalp felt warm and tingly.
“You’re doing great. Here you go.” She held it out, a tendril of smoke rising from one end.
“Thanks, you too,” he said. Stupid, he thought; why’d he blurt that out. But she just smiled at him. She leaned toward him and her empty hand rested on his knee. He grinned and took the joint, feeling a dumb thrill when she touched his fingertips once more. In fact he could have sworn she lightly stroked his finger as she made the handoff.
“What do you think about the place?” she asked, as he filled his lungs.
“It’s–” He coughed out a cloud of smoke, doubling over, until his throat felt raw. “It’s rad,” he croaked. “Really cool.”
She giggled, smacking him on the back. “You like it that much, do you?”
By the time he got his breath back she’d taken one last hit and left the butt smoldering in a lid on the table. Ben’s eyes were feeling heavy, now. And that warm tingling spread from his scalp down over his face and neck. He noticed her watching him with a little smile as his head nodded up and down. No way was he going to pass out immediately after his first time sharing a joint with his cool Aunt Trish.
He wasn’t really following the comedy routine anymore, but tried to focus on it and force a laugh here and there. She was laughing too, wiping water from her eyes a few times even, but she kept glancing his way. His eyes kept sliding off the TV; he could barely manage to keep them both pointed at one thing. He felt her hand rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder as they slowly, inexorably fell shut.
—
There was a green tapestry hanging on the wall behind the couch. Ben was watching it for a while, moving subtly in the nearly still air, before he quite realized what he was looking at. Morning light came in through the window. He shifted, under his cover. He felt the blanket and the couch all along the length of his body.
He was naked.
He ran his hands over his bare skin, looking around. There. His clothes were draped over the armrest by his feet. Was Trish up? His hand bumped into his morning erection and he groaned softly, trying to see if she was around. He pushed it between his legs until it softened enough to hang downward.
The coast seemed clear so he quickly sat up and tugged on his underwear and pants, forcing his cock awkwardly into them. He was just getting them buttoned up when the bedroom door opened, before he could get to his shirt.
“Morning sleepy head,” Aunt Trish said cheerfully. She strolled in casually, bustling around the room wearing a t-shirt and little white panties. Ben’s mouth fell open for a second.
“Uh–”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, forcing his eyes off of her ass, where the thin material of her panties ran up her perky cheeks and the elastic made shallow furrows in her skin, and her thighs moved and flexed as she walked around, picking up a few things.
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