“Oh, this?” she asked, looking down at herself with a chuckle. She was facing him. There was a small cleft in the fabric stretched over her vagina, where it hugged the mounds of her pussy lips. He tore his gaze away from that and found her face looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Come on, it’s not like you’re sleeping in all your clothes.” She waved at his bare chest.
“Wha–” he sputtered, “I didn’t–” He pointed at her. “You–”
She laughed. “Yeah, I did it. I put you to bed plenty of times when you were little, why shouldn’t I do it now when you pass out, you poor baby?”
“Aunt Trish! I’m…”
“All grown up now?”
He nodded miserably.
“Aww I’m just kidding buddy,” she said with a grin, sitting down by him. “I know you are. That’s why I knew you didn’t need any dumb pajamas or anything.” She had an arm around his shoulders. It was warm against his skin. She gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “A man doesn’t need that kind of shit, right?”
He shook his head. “No, of course not.”
“Good. Coffee?” she asked, getting up.
“Um, yeah,” he answered. He’d had it a few times before. His eyes drifted back down toward her petite panty-clad bottom as she went into the kitchen, where he could still see her fiddling with the coffee maker. She loaded a K-cup and stood with one hip cocked as she waited for the mug to fill. Ben was still watching her when she turned around, and quickly forced his eyes up to her face.
“Creamer?”
He nodded, and couldn’t help but keep watching as she got some out, bending over just a little, it seemed, as she poured it in his cup, and then brought it over to him. He licked his lips. She was serving him, in her tight little shirt and her tiny white panties.
Ben took the warm coffee, feeling very conflicted about the glances he was continuing to steal of her barely covered pussy, her breasts swinging under the soft, thin fabric of her nightshirt, as she leaned over to hand it to him. His cock had been a bit firm when he’d forced it down into his pants earlier; now it was trying to grow harder, bent awkwardly beneath the denim.
“Here you go, big boy,” she said with a smile. And, was that a glance down? His erection stiffened even more, pushing out. He saw it make his pants move in his peripheral vision.
“Thanks Au–uh, Trish.”
She was already walking back to make her own cup. He couldn’t stop staring at her ass. And her long, shapely legs. The small space between the tops of her thighs, where he could see the shape of her labia pushing out through her panties, at times, depending on how she turned. Or her pert little bottom, jiggling slightly as she stepped. The hem of her shirt lifting up above her curvy hips as she reached into a cabinet.
She came back in with her own cup, catching his gaze with a smirk. He jerked his eyes away from her ass, embarrassed. But she just sat by him and put her bare feet up on the edge of the table while she sipped on her coffee. Her naked legs were lightly tanned, her dimpled knees moving against each other a little as she shifted on the seat.
He took a drink. His cock was starting to throb.
“So whatcha doin’ today, buddy?” She was looking at him over the rim of her cup.
“I was, uh, gonna visit a couple of schools, take the campus tours…”
“How are you going to get around?”
“Uber, I guess.” He took a drink to cover his glance at her chest, where her breasts were stretching her nightshirt out, and her nipples were poking into the thin fabric.
“Mm.” Her eyes were steady on him. He felt a thin layer of sweat break out across his scalp. She drank her coffee, her warm hip touching his bare skin above his jeans.
“Hey, you wanna ride?” she asked.
Ben felt almost giddy at the thought of spending all day with her. “That’d, yeah. That’d help a lot, Aunt Trish.”
“Trish.” She grinned at him, putting a hand on his leg.
“Yeah, right. Trish.”
“I’ll just go change.” She gave his thigh a quick squeeze, tugging on the denim that was so tightly tented over his straining cock, giving him a sudden jolt. “And give you a chance to, uh. Finish getting dressed.” She winked at him.
He stared after her as she walked back into her room, cock aching dully in his pants.
—
She went on the tours with him, and looked young enough that everyone they ran into seemed to assume they were both prospective students. Ben couldn’t be sure, after all she was always fun, she had always made him feel special. But she seemed flirty. She held his hand on a group walk through campus. She leaned against him sometimes when the group stopped for the guide to talk about a sight. That got his heart thumping in his throat.
She drove him to three schools, and then they had a lunch of burgers and fries in the car, parked under old trees at the last of the campuses, flipping through radio stations and finding something about every song that came on to get them giggling. She threw a fry at him, and soon all the fries were scattered throughout the car.
“You want to cut it short today?” asked Trish, sucking on the straw in her milkshake. “Head back soon?”
“Well, I–”
“We could catch a movie or something.”
His breath caught. Like a date, he thought. Not really, of course. Just, it felt kind of like one.
“That sounds fun,” he said, trying maybe a little too hard to come off sounding casual about it.
“Well don’t let me bother you,” she pouted.
“No, yeah,” he said quickly, “it sounds great. More than great. I’d love to…”
“Okay!” she chirped, face lighting up.
Soon they were seated in the back of a theater, settling in with their snacks and drinks. “I like the back,” she’d insisted. She put the popcorn between Ben’s knees, whispering, “Hold on to this for us, okay?”
“Sure, Trish,” he said, adjusting in his seat as she got the bucket situated, her hands on the sides brushing the tops of his legs a little. She twisted it back and forth for a second, pushing down, and he felt her hand through his jeans on his upper thigh, so close to his penis that it twitched in response. He gulped, hoping she hadn’t noticed that.
“There we are,” she said, smiling at him. “Don’t have to reach far to share, now.” She leaned over, her bare shoulder touching his arm, as she slipped a hand into the tub between his legs.
“Yeah,” he agreed, starting to sweat. His cock was slowly getting harder in his underwear. And his legs were held apart by the popcorn so he couldn’t do much to control it. He shook his head, just slightly. His cock shouldn’t be getting hard for his aunt. His cool, hot Aunt Trish.
“Everything okay?” she asked, turning from the screen. She paused with her hand in the bucket to look at him. He could sense her, inches from his growing erection. He was glad it was so dark in the theater; his cock was lengthening, pushing stiffly into the material of his underpants and jeans. It must be making a bulge there by now.
He felt his erection make contact with the smooth cylinder of the popcorn tub.
“Uh, of course,” he said, a bit breathily. He tried to shift away but he was up against the back of the chair. There was nowhere to go.
“Okay, bud,” Trish said with a grin, resuming her dig into the popcorn. She accidentally nudged and pushed on the bucket as she grabbed a handful, making it press on the swollen head of his cock, now straining into the space under his jeans up along one leg. He struggled not to groan, instead letting out a quiet, controlled breath as he felt warm pre-cum begin to seep up his shaft and trickle from his opening, onto the skin of one thigh.
I can just focus on the movie, he thought, desperately. It’ll go away if I do that.
But every few minutes his sexy aunt would reach in between his legs for some more popcorn, bumping the tub and making his cock pulse and ache in its confinement. He began to lose track of the film, finding himself instead watching her, as well as he could, from the side of his eye, in her white tank top that did nothing to hide her deep cleavage, nor really to obscure the nipples that now pressed out against the cotton in the cold theater. He soon began to just hope for her to reach out again, to hope that she would take her time digging into the bucket, and…
“Aren’t you going to have any?” she asked suddenly, glancing over.
“Oh, I, ah–”
“Why don’t you just hold onto that drink. Let me take care of this for you.” She brought up a piece of popcorn and playfully tapped it on his lips. “Open up,” she whispered in his ear, leaning on his shoulder. He could feel her breasts, full and soft, pressing warmly around his arm through her thin top.
He opened his mouth to let her feed him, and his cock throbbed in its denim prison as she placed the popcorn on his tongue, brushing his lower lip with her fingers. He felt terrible, anxiously awaiting every nudge and movement of her hand between his legs as she continued to feed him periodically as the movie went on. Pre-cum ran down his inner thigh in a steady stream, soaking into his jeans. He hoped it wouldn’t soak all the way through to smear the bucket, and resolved to be the one to throw it away later. He hoped she wouldn’t run out of popcorn and stop.
As it turned out, they’d gotten just about the right amount. The credits had just begun to roll when she reached in for a last bite and her hand instead encountered the side of the empty tub. That thin layer of waxy paper was the only thing between her fingers and his erection, hard and straining against his pants, leaking copiously into the denim. He gasped as quietly as he could manage, as she nudged his cock almost directly through the cardboard.
“Oh, I guess that’s it,” she said, flashing him a smile, hand still in the bucket. She swiped a finger around the inside, making his erection jump, and a fresh flow of warm pre-cum seep from his opening, before bringing the buttery digit to her mouth. “Mmm,” she grinned.
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