me shoving her out of the way so I could do it. And last of all it was David standing us both up against the inner wall of the shower and screwing us in swing-shift operation. First I got five or six long gliding strokes of his dong, and then Belinda got her turn, and then I was up to bat again. Insanity, but I wouldn't have sold my place for a million dollars, then or ever.
Our bodies were slick and soapy. He couldn't hold onto them because we were too wiggly for him, and we rocked in crazy sex. Belinda moaned and came as she felt David unload inside her. I bit my lip in envy, but it only lasted a second, because he jerked his rod out of her shuddering snatch and rammed it up mine, still squirting his creamy jizz. It boiled and oozed in my cunny and I came, too. And then it was all over. For that night, at least. We finished washing, sharing our shower stall in chastity, and we dressed, and David and Belinda drove me home, to Aunt Sue's.
The house lights were off so they dropped me at the road and sped away, back to Athens. I had a key for the back door but not for the front, so I started around the edge of the house to let myself in. By some quirk in my nature I tend to incline right when I'm walking. I didn't even think about walking left around the house, and I certainly didn't think about Aunt Sue's bedroom being on this side.
However, I couldn't help noticing as I neared it that a light shone into the night from her window, and I suppose there's a streak of curiosity in me. My head instinctively turned towards the open window as I passed it, and everything else was preordained.
Aunt Sue was on the far side of the room, looking at herself in her vanity mirror. That wasn't so unusual I do it all the time. Most women keep an eye on their appearance, whenever a minor is handy. It's nature. What stopped me in my tracks and kept me looking like a bonafide peeping Tom was the fact that Aunt Susan was totally naked.
I was outside in the dark; she couldn't see me. But I could sure as hell see her, and it was like I was seeing her for the first time. Those baggy pants and sweat shirts she affected had left me with the vague impression she must be kinda fat and dumpy, body wise. She wasn't. Not at all.
Aunt Susan was really very slim, her ass small, handsized, her legs good if not great. She reminded me of a fashion model, and her skin was very pale, as if she hadn't let the sun kiss it for a long time. I don't know what kept her from appearing sallow, unless it was a natural creaminess of flesh.
Her hair was bunned up, hot very attractively, and its mousy color detracted from the smooth white of her skin. She stared at herself in the mirror and she was cupping her tits in her hands, so fiercely that I couldn't see their reflection in the polished glass for the covering of her palms. Aunt Susan turned abruptly, her hands falling to her sides, and now I saw that her tits were not bad either. They were fist-sized lumps, high set and nicely separated, with tiny nipples the color of ripe cherries, and they appeared to be exquisitely firm. And between her legs she had a small, dainty triangle of chestnut pussy fur, a puff of foliage at the apex of her white thighs.
She walked past the window through which I looked, and she threw herself onto the bed face up. I shifted so I could get a look at her, and I saw her knees go up and one of her hands come to rest upon that chestnut- thatched pussy of hers. She clutched it with a sigh and she began to squeeze the sensitive region as if in desperation.
I couldn't believe it. Not only did Aunt Sue have a body underneath those dingy clothes she always wore, she was also apparently about to treat that body to a bit of extracurricular masturbation. Wrong. She was masturbating herself, using one hand on her pussy, the other on her tits, and she shook and sighed as she did it, occasionally speaking to herself in a low, husky voice that was hard to hear above the creaking of bedsprings.
Part of me wanted to go away and leave her in her privacy, and part of me was almost compulsively voyeuristic. The voyeur conquered, and I leaned closer to the open window frame.
After the workout I'd enjoyed this evening, there couldn't be a particle of unsatisfied lust left inside me. But Aunt Susan was so nice looking – her slim, understated body reminded me of darling Lilly and as I watched her attempts to bring herself a kind of release, I felt a warm smoldering fire begin to burn in my own cunt.
Part of it was due to the words she spoke as she fondled her shaking body. If it were me doing it, I'd tell you what they were, but Aunt Susan was talking, and I really shouldn't have been eavesdropping. Suffice it to say that she was carrying on a one-sided conversation with her handsome friend Lee Kinloch. She was calling to him in words of love and asking him to do some rather frisky things to her body, and I knew as I listened that I'd been right. She really did have a case for the gentleman. And obviously she didn't know how to begin getting him. It was so pathetic, so hopeless, that my heart leaped right out of my chest and bounced through the window making for Aunt Susan's bed and what choice did I have but to follow it?
She sat up in panic as I climbed through the window frame, and her face was white as a bleached skull. I smiled to disarm her fears and in a sec I was on the bed, holding her in my arms while she sobbed onto my halter front.
I stroked her as she clung to me, and her skin was smooth as velvet to my fingertips. Her tits rubbed one of my arms with their heated-up nipples, small but very stiff, and I didn't care if she was my aunt. I leaned back, tilted her face towards mine, and kissed her on the mouth the way a lover kisses a loved one.
Aunt Susan stiffened, as if she weren't sure how to respond. I kissed her passionately, my excitement growing with each moment our lips held together. The smolder in my cunt had become a hot little blaze.
'Lie down,' I said. 'No girl should ever have to get herself off alone.'
Such a fragile, delicate body she had! The breasts were just the right size for my hands to cup, and they were every bit as firm as I'd suspected. I squeezed, feeling them harden in my grasp, and Aunt Susan moaned in bemused delight.
I kissed my way down her neck, out each shoulder, and finally onto the sweet curves of her tits. She smelled good, clean, and her nipples had not only the look of cherries – I could almost imagine that they tasted of those pretty fruits as well. Her tips were small but stiff, and my lips pulled them even stiffer. At the same time I put a hand on her tummy, rubbing her in circles round her navel, circles that widened with a view towards exploring her pussy hair as well.
My fingers brushed her cunny fur, found it crackling stiff with electrical sexuality, and with some reluctance I made my lips desert her tits. Aunt Susan was saying 'Pam, please,' but I didn't care to know if her plea was for stopping or continuing, it wouldn't have mattered.
Her nipples were afire, but the rest of her felt cold as death, a smooth pale body that chilled me by its touch. But I wasn't cold. My blood pounded through me, and my body temperature was rising by the instant. I cuddled her, stroking everywhere I could reach, and I felt her grow warmer with my nearness.
My hand attacked her slit, where it nestled shyly inside her small, neat triangle. She was sealed tightly – sure sign that her pussy didn't get many workouts – and I had to pry with my finger to get inside. Aunt Sue wailed when I did it, and her cunt was dry as a bone. Didn't she even know how to jiggle herself to a creamy lusciousness? I felt so sorry for the poor woman. I wanted to help her, to teach her.
She was uncomfortable when I held her gash apart with both hands and she mumbled in protest when I let my tongue move inside her portals. Talk about portals! Aunt Sue had the moat delicate, precious pussy I had ever seen. The hair on her cunt-mound concealed the little goodie-box within, but when I spread it for business, I could see that she was possessed of a lovely coral-tinted cunt, its plumbing neatly hidden within the slitted opening.
I envied her that neatness. My own inner labes tend to protrude slightly, and I can't help worrying that by the time I'm thirty I'll have flaps dangling to my knees or something equally gross. Aunt Susan was past thirty and she had no apparent problem – except for her dryness.
I licked her cunt, I kissed it, I dived with my tongue and stalked her elusive clitoris, and her twat finally began to get damp. This wouldn't do at all, though. I summoned my saliva and dropped a big frothy bubble of spit into her cunt, immediately working it around and around with the tip of my tongue to lubricate her snatch more thoroughly.
It worked. As it mouth-greased her cunny, I could feel, on the tip of my tongue, a gathering fragrance of Susan's inner-cunt juice at last flowing out to meet my spit on neutral ground. And my tongue work had caused her cunt finally to peek out of its hooded shelter.
It was a handsome clitoris, as red as her cherry nipples, and slim and rather long, just like its owner's body. I touched it with my tongue and Aunt Susan jerked where I held her. My hand flew up to her tit for a comforting cuddle, and she covered my hand with her own to hold me there. I squeezed her tit and she squeezed my hand, and her heart fluttered behind her breast like a frightened little bird. She wasn't speaking now, though, and the only sounds that left her lips were alternating sighs and groans, the latter strongest and most protracted when I
