“Thank you, that’s very sweet and flattering,” she shyly said.
It always amazed me how women were constantly critiquing their bodies in a negative manner when the reality of their form was far from the case. It wasn’t necessarily about insecurity. Maybe they were just fishing for compliments. What I said to her was true.
Removing the perverted aspect of her being a blood relative, and just looking at her as a simple human being, she was what I considered in top perfect form. It wasn’t about me making excuses. There was nothing wrong with admiring the nude female form, no matter who it was.
“And now here I am, feeling even more guilty because I’ve probably granted you a perfect case of blue balls,” she stated. “You can… like… I mean… if you wanted to go back in the bathroom, and… finish… you know, in private… I promise I won’t kick the door down. I’ll get a new towel for myself tomorrow, too. It’s not a big deal. And I’ll turn the volume of the TV up. Gotta have you focused for the rest of your school visits.”
“Oh, uh… I…” I trailed off, a bit awkward on how I was going to respond to something like that. My naked exhibitionist aunt, sitting there on the next bed over, giving me permission to go fuck her used wet towel in the bathroom.
“I’m just surprised,” she continued. “I never knew you were a bit of a closet nudist like me. It’s actually a relief. Takes the embarrassment of this whole thing out of it. Thanks for being cool about it. And… you know… you look good, too. Your body, I mean. Since we’re giving out compliments. I always thought you were very cute. You keep in good shape, and… not to creep you out speaking as your aunt, but, just as a simple observation from one person to the next… you’ve got a really beautiful penis.”
My face blushed a little with embarrassment. Holy fuck. Did she really just say that?
“Bet you’ve heard that before plenty of times from girls, huh?”
I bashfully rubbed my arm. “I, uh… I mean… not… not really.”
“No?” she repeated, surprised. “Well, they should. You’ve got a really nice dick. At least I’m sure they appreciate when you’re using it, anyway.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. She shook her head and pretended to go back to her laptop. “Shit, I’m sorry, that went a little too far. Kinda inappropriate. That’s your private business.”
“No, it’s okay,” I shrugged it off. “I just… I… you know… I… haven’t really…”
She stared at me, as if processing the thought before realizing what I was getting at. “Oh,” she cooed with the roundness of her lips. “I see. I just… figured you… I mean, I know you haven’t really been dating anyone lately, but I thought maybe sometime… before… because you’re eighteen. Not that it’s a requirement or an expectation. Even though guys think it is. Shit. I’m really derailing here.”
I gave a light chuckle.
“What I mean is, it’s okay if you haven’t. I’m just looking out for your well-being. I’m your aunt, that’s kind of my job. Just making sure you’re being… safe… and responsible… in that area.”
“Well, I doubt I’ll be getting my aunt’s towel pregnant,” I smoothly joked.
She laughed. “I don’t know; you eighteen-year-old studs have got some power packed into your punch. Could wind up with some little washcloths in nine months.”
I laughed and found that any tension from the situation had dissipated. Suddenly I was more comfortable than I had ever been around her. I discovered this new side of her, and she was helping me to discover a new side of myself.
“So, like, just between us, I mean, you know, as your cool best bud aunt who you used to tell everything to, you don’t have to tell me because it’s your business, but have you… done, like… anything… with a girl?”
“Some kissing, you know, making out, stupid junior high-level stuff like that,” I admitted. “Kind of pathetic.”
“Not at all,” she disagreed. “Happens differently for everyone. Nothing wrong with taking your time. Don’t ever feel like you’re falling behind everyone your age. Have you, like, touched a girl? Like felt her up while you were making out?”
I irked my mouth a little to the side.
“Ah, okay. No big deal. Don’t be embarrassed. But have you seen a girl naked? I mean, in real life, and not on TV or porn or something?”
“Not exactly, no,” I flatly muttered.
“So, then… I’m your first,” she noted in self-realization with an almost positively upbeat touch in her voice. “Like as an adult.”
“You’re also related to me. Not sure that counts,” I said.
“Of course it counts. Tits are tits. Counts enough to get you all riled up in that bathroom, anyway,” she smiled. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s flattering, knowing I still have that ability, considering how dry the dating market has been for me lately. Boobs are boobs, and you should be masturbating to any boob you see, no matter who it belongs to, because it’s just reactionary biology and nature.”
She bit her lower lip and thought to herself for a moment in the silence between us, closing her laptop and setting it on the desk as she got up and walked over, slowly sitting next to me on my bed.
I slightly shifted myself in an uncomfortable manner to this sudden proximity of her nakedness. “You can touch them,” she softly said under her breath as her eyes burned into me like hot knives. “If you want to.”
My eyes flashed down to her breasts, those perfect and circular round bulbs of softness. I cleared my throat and diverted my attention slightly away. “Oh, uh, I… that’s okay. That’s nice of you, but… I… you’re my aunt. This new exhibitionist thing around a family member was a pretty big enough step for me, so I don’t know if that’s…”
“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind. I’m not asking you to play them like drums or anything. Just… if you wanted to maybe… feel… what an actual boob feels like… I’m just saying it’s okay. I’m happy to oblige your curiosity. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Nothing will leave this room, I promise.”
I took a breath and reluctantly mulled it over for a good, long moment. Was this really fucking happening? After all this barrage of nudity unleashed between us tonight in a revealing caste of proclaimed fetishism, my aunt was actually sitting there offering me to cop a feel, granting full, unadulterated access to her boasting bosom. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with ME? Was this whole THING even wrong? It didn’t feel that way. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been sitting there with a steaming pile of my naked dick and balls hanging out in front of her.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and slowly raised my hands, brushing the fingers along the edges of her left breast’s smooth skin. I skimmed them along, and rounded them under the curvatures of the bottom before touching her nipples.
She just sat there silently watching me with those sexy eyes. I widened my hands and gave them a heavier touch, giving both a simultaneous light squeeze.
There was nothing special about it when you think about it, yet it’s everything in the world to a guy. They were soft, yet firm, yet bouncy or jiggly, such oddly conflicting densities that boggles the mind. Almost like heavy water balloons… mysterious three-dimensional circles protruding from her chest. A beautiful sight and feel that makes all guys proclaim, “Fuck! Why don’t women walk around with these out for display all the time??”
The corners of her mouth slightly lifted as she still stared into me. “Nice?” she wondered, reaching down and slightly skimming her fingers along my bare thigh. It made my cock spring back to life, slowly rising and stretching like an alert serpent.
“Yeah,” I simply answered, just cupping both my hands under them.
“Can’t have you hookin’ up with some hottie in college without knowing how to handle these things,” she optimistically noted. “But honestly there’s not much you have to do. No special tricks. We just like them handled any way, any how. Easy first lesson tip.”
I thumbed her nipples and gave her breasts another squeeze. Damn. Boobs feel pretty great in my hands. I could do this all night. The more immature version of myself in my head kept asking, “Why don’t girls play with these twenty-four hours a day??” After all, us guys want to play with our dicks twenty-four-seven-three-sixty-five.
Aunt Keri reached up with her free hand and playfully thumbed the crest of my chin as she flashed a smile, then shifted her hand up to brush and caress the side of my hair, looking like she was concentrating on fixing me up but it was obvious something else was on her mind.
“Can I ask you something?” she wondered, keeping her eyes only on her task at hand.
“Sure.”
She lightly brushed more of my hair and licked her lips. “Since I gave you some special access… do you mind if I touch… yours?” she smoothly asked as if it were the most natural and easygoing question in history.
“My boobs?” I playfully asked.
“Very funny,” she snickered. “You know what I mean. Can I touch… it?”
“It?” I repeated as if confused about what she was referring to. But I knew damn well what. I just couldn’t process the lunacy of the request.
“It,” she confirmed, and then in a much quieter manner softly reiterated, “Your penis.”
“Uhhh,” I murmured, my mind short-circuiting. “I… I…”
She now burned her eyes directly into mine, unblinking as her hand continued to skim and rub my leg below.
“G-Go ahead…” I managed to finally grant. Part of me was actually shaking now.
She gave a tiny, confident smile as her rubbing hand casually coasted back up and touched my hot member, the slender womanly fingers gliding back and forth over the top before spiraling around my shaft completely. My breath shook, my nerves on edge.
“It’s okay,” she calmly and sweetly assured me, using her other hand to thumb my cheek. “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just natural. Do you want to touch me… somewhere else? Like… down further?”
“Really?” I asked. “Further down? Like your… um… your…”
“My vagina,” she emphasized. “My pussy. Cunt. Snatch. Hot box. You can touch it if you want.”
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