Aunt Nancy
Chapter 50
The Ocean
I felt different the next morning. Older. Changed. My aunt, I suppose one could say, had taken me to the promised land. She'd sucked my man-angst right out of me, giving me a sense of the vast explosive infinite that'd been laying inside me all those post adolescent years. I wondered how it'd be if I were to do that with my flat chested, big nippled girlfriend. How she'd like it. To suck me dry. Maybe she wanted to, I thought. I fell asleep that night, thinking those thoughts. I thought, too, about exploding inside my girlfriend, not on her hands or in her mouth. But then, I remembered the practical aspects of it: That's how girls get pregnant. That, I determined, might not be a good idea. Duh. Not yet, at least. Rubbers. Yeah. That's what they were for, apparently, in addition to avoiding catching something. Preventing juniors and juniorettes from spawning inside the pussy of the girl you're fucking. Too much thinking for one night. I fell asleep....
...To wake with this thought: Amidst all of those goings on, while under the influence of the mimosas, and the haste of my aunt and I suddenly having to leave the room of the cominglement, I wondered, that next morning upon opening my eyes, if both of us had remembered to fetch and grab our undies before our frantic departure from The Room Where my Aunt Nancy Had Made Me Come for the First Time in My Life By Blowing Me.
True, even before her blowing me, I was no longer a virgin. Kerry had taken care of that. But my aunt was the first one to make me lose it. To bring that train into the station, and then blow the station up.
I remembered hearing her say, "Run to the shower! I'll head to my bedroom! Go!", she, naked from the waist up, running through the hallway to her bedroom, her big jolly whollippers juggling all about the place, which from behind her I could see to her sides, while I, pantless, my dick glistening and half ramrod outwards, ran to the common 2nd floor bathroom, and stepped into the shower, as told, while hearing talking noises made by Gordon and my uncle coming into the house. Little did they know or suspect, I thought, that Gordon's aunt (and mine) and my uncle's wife, had just sucked all the come out of my cock that had been brewing and formulating there all these years, especially since she'd been covertly suckling me since I'd been 12.
By the time I emerged from the bathroom, everyone - Gordon and Uncle Rich included - were in their separate bedrooms, doors closed.
So that next morning, I searched my own bedroom, in the basement. No u-wear from the night before to be found. Enroute to the porch where everyone was already gathered for breakfast, I made a detour to the upstairs and visited the Room of Cominglement and didn't see my u-wear, nor my aunt's panties, and so I went through the kitchen, said hello to my aunt who was making breakfast as Pele' had the weekend off, and then went to the porch, said a mumbled good morning to my uncle and Gordon, and everything proceeded as normal, as if my aunt hadn't blown me the night before while I'd given her a wild little orgasm by licking up her labia and vaginal pussyclit chasm.
Nope, of course none of that sort of thing would ever happen in our staid, stable bastion of domestic normalcy. To make things even more tranquilly conventional, halfway through breakfast, Emjay, the man who was my uncle's best friend, and whose rather large male organ my aunt was, from what I'd witnessed rather unmistakenly, wildly inserting wholeheartedly into that hot gripping pussytwat of hers, and thus, fucking it, and therefore, he, her, the other day... stridently walked over on the vast lawn, from his place at the other end of it, and joined us all for a calm, relaxing, quiet, sedate Sunday morning breakfast.
My aunt wore white shorts and a royal blue short sleeve cling top, well accenting the fact she was wearing a bra, the cups of which, were by necessity, huge and mighty, roundly pushing into the top, and were I'd estimate almost as big as dinner plates, each with a subtle hint of nipplehood, each just south of and a bit to the side, of center. I tried not to stare and get mesmerized.
While helping to clear the table the phone rang, the hardline one we keep in the kitchen. My aunt answered.
"Honey! For you!" Handing it to me she whispered, "I think it's Kerry."
I took it to the formal dining room on the other side of the kitchen away from Gordon and Uncle Rich who were lounging in the outer porch overlooking the pool. It was her. "Hey you," she said. She wanted to see me. Soon. I told her we could, soon, just not sure when, I'd let her know. Couldn't today (a Sunday), I told her, family stuff planned. Not sure what, and she suggested she join us. I told her probably not a good idea, Gordon could be a pain, could ruin the day for her, not worth it, we could meet another time and go out, said I'd call her mid-week, she said a reluctant "alright"... miss you! she said, i said "miss you too," and we hung up.
Back In the porch den, Gordon said, "Bout time you started hanging out with females." I said, "You? You got one?" He said, "Oh, I've got a few, never a shortage." "Glad to hear," I said, my uncle hearing everything, behind his reading the Boston Globe Sunday edition. I just hoped my aunt and I might do something, if there was going to be family time, just not with Gordon. He was a pain. Morose, sarcastic, whining pain in the ass. And my uncle was reluctant to set him straight, I suppose because the kid was 20 now and should know better.
He'd enlisted in the Army after high school and all indications were that he was either going to quit, or they were going to kick him out. He'd been cited a number of times for smoking pot and insubordination. Every time I'd asked him what he did in the army, he'd say "logistics" and when asked to be more specific he'd say, "That's all you need to know, hotshot." He was always calling me hotshot. I called him "Gordo".
My aunt had about had it with him. The 2nd day he was with us she caught him smoking weed in his bedroom. My aunt lost it, yelling at him, at my uncle, at the house. Just went on a banshee tirade. Went something like, "That kid of yours smokes weed in my house one more time, and I'm gone! Fucking gone! Got it? One more time he dares to smoke that shit in my house and I will fucking be out of here!!! No second chances, no discussion; I am Gone!!! Understood!!!???" I think she was talking more to my poor uncle than Gordon, implying it was his responsibility his kid didn't smoke weed in the house. My uncle and she then went to have a private talk in their bedroom and that seemed to cool my aunt down.
That didn't stop him though. Numerous trips out into the woods explained his intent to stay true to his relationship with weed, along with an "errand ride" or two to go get the stuff. That, and weight, were also issues his employer, the US Army, had problems with, too. Gordo was always pushing the limit on the max weight allowed for his height, five ten. The problem didn't seem to be on his mind, watching him gorge down food during his stay with us.
The truth was, I was figuring out, was that whenever Gordon had come to stay with us for several days, my aunt's internal angst got switched to high, and when you see someone most every day, you just know any little changes, and so, although it was fairly obvious to me, though I can't say the same for Uncle Rich, that, my aunt's breastbust volume actually seemed to swell, when Gordon was around. You wouldn't notice anything on Day 1 or 2, but by Day 3 of his time with us, yes, there was indeed a change in volume afoot, or you suspected as much, and by Days 4 and 5, you were sure of it: Her bust indeed looked bigger. Fuller, thicker, larger. By Days 6 and 7, in addition to continued bust swell, especially out to her sides, nipple swells and protrusion would also begin to exhibit themselves, despite a sturdy bra and top, and often a sweater over that. The fact was her big juggthings would just sort of go into hyperdrive, when Gordon was around.
Gordon seemed to have an agenda as well, to try and aggravate my Aunt Nancy. Take that morning for example, we were all seated and enjoying our breakfast, and he says to my uncle, "Dad, you'd think with the money you make you think you'd be able to buy your wife clothes that fit." Gordon then turned and leered directly at my aunt's rather large, bra'ed up, bust. My uncle said, trying to ward off any quarreling, "That's enough son." "Just sayin," he quipped back. My aunt, for her part, said, "Some boys grow up to be gentlemen, and make their parents proud. I see you're turning out the opposite." "Parent. Singular," said Gordon. "You nixed out the other rather well, didn't you," he rashly continued. Gordon's mother had jumped off a building about a decade earlier once it'd become clear my aunt and uncle Rich had more or less become a permanent couple. "Enough!!" my uncle yelled out, loudly and brusquely. My aunt stood and began to clear the table. "Well, that was a pleasant breakfast, wasn't it Emjay?" she said, sarcastically. He nodded politely and smiled, shifting his gaze to his plate, wisely not wanting to be any part of it. And then my mind flashbacked to what I'd seen him and my aunt doing that one day down in the dojo.
Clearing the table, I'd recalled a line I'd read in Tolstoy's Anna Karenina about unhappy families. Were we one? No, I decided, we weren't. It was only when Gordo visited that things got testy, which were seldom. Other than the verbal tirade she'd launched when she'd discovered him doing weed in his room, there were rarely any outright fights, quarrels or arguments. Instead, I believe, she internalized her angst over his behavior, channeling it to her sexual breasticular mammarosity. They became heavier, larger, fuller. More torpedic, conicular, pointed and voluminous. It was a thing that ironically made me sometimes look forward to a Gordon visit, despite having to put up with his moroseness, bitterness and sarcasm. It was worth it, in other words.
Later that Sunday morning, while I was napping in my basement bedroom with the door open, wondering what I ought to do the rest of the day, as there'd been no discussion of any family time at brunch, there was my aunt, leaning against the door jamb, an angelic smile on her face.
"Oh, hi," I said, turning my head on the pillow to the right to where she was casually leaning on the door jamb. I could see right away her bra had been removed, by the lazy, low, and abruptly fulsome puggly shape her tits and nipples were making into the top. I stared at at her covered breasthood there, and I knew she easily saw me staring there, but it had been an unspoken agreement between us since my childhood days after moving in with my Aunt Nancy, when I was 12, that she never minded me staring at her bust when we were alone, and in fact, seemed to welcome it. And for those perhaps new to the story, I'll remind them it'd been only a few months after moving in that she'd begun suckling me. When I was 8 she was only about a 34C, and by the time I was 12, when she'd first deigned to suckle me, she was pushing 36G, and about now, just after I'd turned 20, she was comfortably wearing 40K bras.
"Sweetie, your uncle, cousin and Emjay have taken off to the mall for some shopping this afternoon."
"Oh," I said.
"How about you and me go for a walk on the shore?"
"Sure!"
The parking lot on the North Shore was practically empty as we embarked with blankets and a backpack full of some food and utensils. We, in shorts and sneaks, strolled up along the shore, with the sea to our right, it being beautiful, serene, powerful, majestic, with a few cirrus clouds above, and a warm light breeze from the south. To our left was marsh grass, sand dunes, and little sea caves and inlets. Blessedly, no sign of people anywhere. Must have been some sporting event going on, possibly the NCAA final four, where everyone was either at the bars or in their living rooms with the big screens, their driveways full of cars of friends and family.
My aunt had brought along a sweater, but she soon took it off as we began walking in the sand, along the shore, there being no one out there, and it being unseasonably mild. The place being so bereft of visitors, she could have little concern that her outlandish nipplery currently and belligerently sticking out into her top would be an afright to others or an unnecessary attractant. I meanwhile enjoyed the view, strolling to my aunt's right, on the sea side, turning to my left now and then to get an eyeful of her potent and unusual puggelry.
I figured my uncle had offered to take her and me with them, to go shopping, and possibly stop into a restaurant/bar to watch the games, but figured my aunt had declined, for both of us. I imagined my aunt making a bee line for hers and Uncle Rich's bedroom, after they'd left, and her offing the bra and then putting the snug top back on. I knew she mainly wore it - a bra - for Gordon's sake. She didn't seem to mind being braless when only Emjay was visiting and Gordon wasn't visiting.
In any event, I knew her well enough that what I'd been seeing the last day or two was a level of bustiness near her maximum evoloovement - those times when her titlerhood machinery had reached so extensive a state of exacerbation and protuberation, where her body and mind were, I suspected, craving and needing some kind of monumentally explosive expression and were going to get it one way or the other.
Now and then as we walked along the beach she'd raise her hands up and do stuff with her hair and say something like, "Oh, I just love it out here, darling, don't you!?" And I'd nod and say something like, "Yes Aunt Nancy, it's the best."
Her top already was unable to make it down to the waistband of her shorts, given how much space her big pugnacious unbra'd tits occupied in it. And every time she'd do something with her hair, the snug little top'd ride higher and higher until it was barely covering the bottom thick well rounded thick titmeat of her two well appointed big juggbreasts. At some point in our walk I was sure any view up to her from below her waist would be treated a handsome view of bare bottom thick Aunt Nancy juggmeat. None of this bothered her at all, I surmised, for she'd become a woman so comfortable with herself, in all her voluptuous curvature and sexuality, I really believed her most comfortable outfit was none at all.
It was low tide and on our left started appearing little inlets and coves that were like small caves in some of them, where in them on the sand you could take shelter and gain respite from the sun and have a bit of privacy too. We wandered into one, the view from which you couldn't be beat, sand and waves crashing onto shore with a clear view of the horizon well beyond. Moreover, we'd yet to see a soul and given the late hour of the day it was unlikely we'd ever. Over us were moss and rocks and under us moss and sand of a soft spongy nature and there was just no question this was where my aunt should lay the blanket she'd been carrying, while unloaded from my backpack some food canisters, water bottle, and a small bottle of Cabernet.
We sat down on the blanket with me facing the inside of the cove cave and my aunt facing the opposite direction, with a clear view of the ocean. The part of her top which had been relegated the responsibility of covering her big right tit had abdicated such role, by this point, given all the jostling it'd been put through all afternoon, and now rode just only down as far as the top of her circle there, such that almost all of her 4 to 5 inch diameter right areola and 3/4 inch long nipple had gradually become exposed to my gazing eyes. It seemed like she didn't know that part of her had come out into the open. She just let her top ride like that, her large swelled, inflamed circle in full view to me, her nipple large and hard, while my cock got into the act of duly responding. In a minute it was rigid hard and pressing uncomfortably up into my shorts.
We'd brought no cups or glasses so we drank the Cabernet right out of the bottle and watching my aunt swig it down, holding the mouth of the bottle to her lips that way I must say I found sexy and attractive.
At one point she said, "Honey it's none of my business, I know, and truly, I don't wish to know either way, but my female intuition tells me that you and Kerry are now a couple." She took another swig of the Cab, and handed me the bottle.
"Umm, I guess you can say we've become fairly close." I took a swig, and held the bottle.
"Well you know sweetheart I just wanted to say I'm so pleased with how well you've grown into a handsome young man, my darling, and Kerry, well, just looking one can she's totally lovely and so cute."
I thought of Kerry's rocket missile-shaped pug-shaped nipples, huge and formidable and how she deadpanned said to me, "I like to fuck." I stared down at my aunt's exposed right one, and could see she wasn't far behind Kerry in terms of nipple length and thickness. "Umm, yeah, she's really cute, and nice," I said, not being able to just momentarily glance at my aunt's huge right tit, now wholly sticking out of the top even moreso, almost in its full bulgeous entirety, but had to just have a nice, long uninterrupted stare, even though my aunt wasn't talking about herself, but was discoursing on the girl who was supposedly my girlfriend, and who my aunt was just intimating, indirectly, though with little little doubt, without actually saying the precise words, that she knew Kerry and I were doing it, all the way.
My aunt, hearing me make no reply, but seeing me stare without interruption at her chest, wondering why I was doing so, perhaps, then looked down at her top and saw for herself that her big right jugg, was just out there, naked, so whole and big and potent. "Oh my, darling, one broke free!" I laughed a bit, said, "Yep!", and she smiled.
"Should we free her sister?" she asked, conspiratorially, playfully. I nodded yes, and said "Sure," quietly, still not taking my eyes off her big right one. My organ pressed insistently against my shorts and with the wine in me ,saw no need for pretensions, saw no need to cover up the evidence of my erection with my hands.
"Oh goody!" she said, lifting her top up and over her head and long flaxen hair like she couldn't wait to get the thing off, and tossing it to me. She put her palms under her hair and lifted it and let it all drop again, onto the top swelled part of her bared long huge fulsome breasts. "Just throw it in the backpack, honey," she said, as if she might not need it anymore, at least not for a good long while. I twisted around to my right, to stuff the little garment into the backpack, seeing the ocean and sand behind me, and when I turned back round, saw my aunt standing a few feet away, her white cotton shorts falling down her legs to rest on her feet, which she daintily reached down to grasp with her fingertips and also tossing those to me... "Same, darling." Which I did, as told, twisting around, stuffing them into the backpack, hearing her say, behind me, "Your Aunt Nancy's been so proud of you sweetheart, while your cousin Gordon's been visiting."
He wasn't technically my cousin, as neither his mother or father were related to my parents, but Aunt Nancy called him my cousin anyway.
She continued..."While Gordon's been immature and rude and thoughtless, I mean just an annoying oaf! wouldn't you say, you've continued to be just the way you are, a gentleman, strong and stalwart in all ways, even to him, as best you could, and it's made me so proud of you darling, words just can't really say enough."
She paused, breathing a tad more heavily then, and running her hands through her long hair again. Then, resuming the self-tweaking of her rather formidable nipplehood, while not looking at me, but looking out of the opening of our little cove-cave, trance-like. "And the crazy thing love is it makes me tingle inside, and I guess as you may have noticed, it makes my nipples large and full and so swollen and hard..." She was standing closer to me now, facing me, not a stitch of clothing on, tweaking each fat, swelled, nipple with her respective fingertips.
"... Which is why darling, I hope you understand.... your Aunt Nancy just has this overwhelming need, right now... to suckle you," she said, as I watched her gingerly and slowly lower her full naked body onto my lap, she facing me, "to my tits...", sitting on my thighs, wrapping her long silky smooth bared legs around my waist, her large fulsome breasts inches from my face; I looked up, and saw my aunt staring transfixedly, dreamily, angelically, at the ocean, through the opening of the small cove cave we were in, like her mind had left her.
And so cooperatively placing one palm, my hand in the up direction, on the inside of her big left juggtit, and my right palm on the outside and bottom of it, I began to suckle from her huge left torpedo-shaped juggernaut.
She began moaning quietly with delight upon the commencement of my worshiping of her, my tongue first performing along the outer perimeter of her areola. Her whole circular perimeter there, seemed large and inflamed, like it'd become the few other times I'd seen her in this charged-up state, perhaps some 5 inches in diameter, where, with my tongue, I could feel the whole thing rise up a quarter inch, like an escarpment, all along it, all around it... "oh yes, darling, lick me there, that's good my sweet love"... and within the circle of course on the inside of the perimeter of her overly developed nipplehood I could detect with my tongue as well all the many little, junior nipples, the hundred or so wannabee ones, tiny little swellings, evidencing her built-up sexual angst... "so good honey so good you do that so well like no one else can my sweet"... and then the thing which seemed unique to my aunt, in my limited experience, i guess you can call it her Inner Areola, which was a secondary swelling, that rose a quarter inch above the Outer Areola, conically, its perimeter rising about an inch and a half inwards from the Outer's perimeter, which Inner Areola itself had a diameter of about 3 inches.. "Suck me baby, that's right baby suck Aunt Nancy's big heavy titties, you just suck me honey."
A pause. Then:
"Love, honey, is that you under me feeling so hard?"
"Yes, Aunt Nancy," I said, interrupting my suckling.
"May I see?" she asked.
I nodded. She had my shorts and boxers off in less than a couple of seconds.
"Oh, I like that!" she said, looking down at me, her knees straddling my hips. "You're so grown up now!" I had no answer for that, and just stared at her, all of her, her hair, eyes, huge developed hanging breasts, left nipple all swelled and moist from my sucking on it, like it wanted to grow out of itself.
There was never any strangeness with this. It was as if I belonged to her and we both knew it. Hell, I didn't mind it. It was a fact of life to me.
She licked her lips and then deftly resumed her sitting position again, her buttox perched on my thighs, only this time with my bared erectified cock sticking straight up, pushed against her the small triangular plain of her smooth mons pubis, and below it, her clitoral hood shoved up close against the base of my cock. As I moved my hand to palm her other bigtitjugg, her right one, to suckle it also, with her palms pressed flat against my lower backside, she began pushing these external areas of her sex against the lower part of the shaft of my cock.
She got this pushing of her sex into a rhythm and started repeating "Oh honey, oh honey," over and over, as if she could no longer stop what was happening, even if she wanted to. We two, all fully bared, were now making contact for the first time in our lives, a thing never done since that first day the active suckling of me when I was but 12 to her rapidly developing and growing breasternalium had begun. Now in this sheltered cove by the sea eight years later in the waning afternoon light she was suddenly closer to fckng my now man-sized cock as she'd ever been.
Since the time I was 8 and she'd caught me staring at her large and pugnacious nipplehood when we'd gone jogging early one morning, where she was quite obviously unbra'ed in those just after dawn hours with me out there running on those empty suburban streets, given how plainly obvious it was, to me at least, the impression made on me at so young an age was that my aunt indeed had a force of nipplehood that demanded I reckon with it somehow. Like some switch had been flicked from that encounter between us, her breasts ever since had embarked on a well observable and noticeable journey of growth and enlargement and thickness, such that the bras she bought and kept in her dresser drawers were no longer the skimpy 34C ones she wore back then, and which same size she'd worn since her mid teens, but were now of the 38 to 40 inch variety, all of K and L cup hugeness, replete with thick nipple pads she wore on the inside of the bra cups when attempting to subdue her big tit nipplehood while as well attending functions in polite society or when out with my Uncle Rich not wanting to attack too much attention to her sensational nipplearium.
Meanwhile...
"Oh honey. Pleeees.... oh honey, please love...." She seemed about to cry or scream. My tongue swirled all around her right side nippular arena.... sucking and licking her torpedically swelled pointy tithood, her palms pressing against the base of my back at my waist half on the top of my gluteus maximus.
I felt, sure, and manly. I felt the insistency of my shaft against her and loved how her enlarged breasthood felt so swelled, developed, and smooth in my mouth. And because of everything I'd done with my aunt in the past, and everything I'd done with Kerry, I was ready.
"Oooohhhhhhh...." she went on, and ....she'd shifted,
only slightly... and.... then...as there was just no going back,
I was...suddenly...up deep, wholly so, fully and driving...
way beyond right and normal and acceptable and copasetic,
well beyond recourse, out into the galaxy, sailing the ocean,
up deep inside her, pulsing hard, rightly penetrating her.
Chapter 50
The Ocean
I felt different the next morning. Older. Changed. My aunt, I suppose one could say, had taken me to the promised land. She'd sucked my man-angst right out of me, giving me a sense of the vast explosive infinite that'd been laying inside me all those post adolescent years. I wondered how it'd be if I were to do that with my flat chested, big nippled girlfriend. How she'd like it. To suck me dry. Maybe she wanted to, I thought. I fell asleep that night, thinking those thoughts. I thought, too, about exploding inside my girlfriend, not on her hands or in her mouth. But then, I remembered the practical aspects of it: That's how girls get pregnant. That, I determined, might not be a good idea. Duh. Not yet, at least. Rubbers. Yeah. That's what they were for, apparently, in addition to avoiding catching something. Preventing juniors and juniorettes from spawning inside the pussy of the girl you're fucking. Too much thinking for one night. I fell asleep....
...To wake with this thought: Amidst all of those goings on, while under the influence of the mimosas, and the haste of my aunt and I suddenly having to leave the room of the cominglement, I wondered, that next morning upon opening my eyes, if both of us had remembered to fetch and grab our undies before our frantic departure from The Room Where my Aunt Nancy Had Made Me Come for the First Time in My Life By Blowing Me.
True, even before her blowing me, I was no longer a virgin. Kerry had taken care of that. But my aunt was the first one to make me lose it. To bring that train into the station, and then blow the station up.
I remembered hearing her say, "Run to the shower! I'll head to my bedroom! Go!", she, naked from the waist up, running through the hallway to her bedroom, her big jolly whollippers juggling all about the place, which from behind her I could see to her sides, while I, pantless, my dick glistening and half ramrod outwards, ran to the common 2nd floor bathroom, and stepped into the shower, as told, while hearing talking noises made by Gordon and my uncle coming into the house. Little did they know or suspect, I thought, that Gordon's aunt (and mine) and my uncle's wife, had just sucked all the come out of my cock that had been brewing and formulating there all these years, especially since she'd been covertly suckling me since I'd been 12.
By the time I emerged from the bathroom, everyone - Gordon and Uncle Rich included - were in their separate bedrooms, doors closed.
So that next morning, I searched my own bedroom, in the basement. No u-wear from the night before to be found. Enroute to the porch where everyone was already gathered for breakfast, I made a detour to the upstairs and visited the Room of Cominglement and didn't see my u-wear, nor my aunt's panties, and so I went through the kitchen, said hello to my aunt who was making breakfast as Pele' had the weekend off, and then went to the porch, said a mumbled good morning to my uncle and Gordon, and everything proceeded as normal, as if my aunt hadn't blown me the night before while I'd given her a wild little orgasm by licking up her labia and vaginal pussyclit chasm.
Nope, of course none of that sort of thing would ever happen in our staid, stable bastion of domestic normalcy. To make things even more tranquilly conventional, halfway through breakfast, Emjay, the man who was my uncle's best friend, and whose rather large male organ my aunt was, from what I'd witnessed rather unmistakenly, wildly inserting wholeheartedly into that hot gripping pussytwat of hers, and thus, fucking it, and therefore, he, her, the other day... stridently walked over on the vast lawn, from his place at the other end of it, and joined us all for a calm, relaxing, quiet, sedate Sunday morning breakfast.
My aunt wore white shorts and a royal blue short sleeve cling top, well accenting the fact she was wearing a bra, the cups of which, were by necessity, huge and mighty, roundly pushing into the top, and were I'd estimate almost as big as dinner plates, each with a subtle hint of nipplehood, each just south of and a bit to the side, of center. I tried not to stare and get mesmerized.
While helping to clear the table the phone rang, the hardline one we keep in the kitchen. My aunt answered.
"Honey! For you!" Handing it to me she whispered, "I think it's Kerry."
I took it to the formal dining room on the other side of the kitchen away from Gordon and Uncle Rich who were lounging in the outer porch overlooking the pool. It was her. "Hey you," she said. She wanted to see me. Soon. I told her we could, soon, just not sure when, I'd let her know. Couldn't today (a Sunday), I told her, family stuff planned. Not sure what, and she suggested she join us. I told her probably not a good idea, Gordon could be a pain, could ruin the day for her, not worth it, we could meet another time and go out, said I'd call her mid-week, she said a reluctant "alright"... miss you! she said, i said "miss you too," and we hung up.
Back In the porch den, Gordon said, "Bout time you started hanging out with females." I said, "You? You got one?" He said, "Oh, I've got a few, never a shortage." "Glad to hear," I said, my uncle hearing everything, behind his reading the Boston Globe Sunday edition. I just hoped my aunt and I might do something, if there was going to be family time, just not with Gordon. He was a pain. Morose, sarcastic, whining pain in the ass. And my uncle was reluctant to set him straight, I suppose because the kid was 20 now and should know better.
He'd enlisted in the Army after high school and all indications were that he was either going to quit, or they were going to kick him out. He'd been cited a number of times for smoking pot and insubordination. Every time I'd asked him what he did in the army, he'd say "logistics" and when asked to be more specific he'd say, "That's all you need to know, hotshot." He was always calling me hotshot. I called him "Gordo".
My aunt had about had it with him. The 2nd day he was with us she caught him smoking weed in his bedroom. My aunt lost it, yelling at him, at my uncle, at the house. Just went on a banshee tirade. Went something like, "That kid of yours smokes weed in my house one more time, and I'm gone! Fucking gone! Got it? One more time he dares to smoke that shit in my house and I will fucking be out of here!!! No second chances, no discussion; I am Gone!!! Understood!!!???" I think she was talking more to my poor uncle than Gordon, implying it was his responsibility his kid didn't smoke weed in the house. My uncle and she then went to have a private talk in their bedroom and that seemed to cool my aunt down.
That didn't stop him though. Numerous trips out into the woods explained his intent to stay true to his relationship with weed, along with an "errand ride" or two to go get the stuff. That, and weight, were also issues his employer, the US Army, had problems with, too. Gordo was always pushing the limit on the max weight allowed for his height, five ten. The problem didn't seem to be on his mind, watching him gorge down food during his stay with us.
The truth was, I was figuring out, was that whenever Gordon had come to stay with us for several days, my aunt's internal angst got switched to high, and when you see someone most every day, you just know any little changes, and so, although it was fairly obvious to me, though I can't say the same for Uncle Rich, that, my aunt's breastbust volume actually seemed to swell, when Gordon was around. You wouldn't notice anything on Day 1 or 2, but by Day 3 of his time with us, yes, there was indeed a change in volume afoot, or you suspected as much, and by Days 4 and 5, you were sure of it: Her bust indeed looked bigger. Fuller, thicker, larger. By Days 6 and 7, in addition to continued bust swell, especially out to her sides, nipple swells and protrusion would also begin to exhibit themselves, despite a sturdy bra and top, and often a sweater over that. The fact was her big juggthings would just sort of go into hyperdrive, when Gordon was around.
Gordon seemed to have an agenda as well, to try and aggravate my Aunt Nancy. Take that morning for example, we were all seated and enjoying our breakfast, and he says to my uncle, "Dad, you'd think with the money you make you think you'd be able to buy your wife clothes that fit." Gordon then turned and leered directly at my aunt's rather large, bra'ed up, bust. My uncle said, trying to ward off any quarreling, "That's enough son." "Just sayin," he quipped back. My aunt, for her part, said, "Some boys grow up to be gentlemen, and make their parents proud. I see you're turning out the opposite." "Parent. Singular," said Gordon. "You nixed out the other rather well, didn't you," he rashly continued. Gordon's mother had jumped off a building about a decade earlier once it'd become clear my aunt and uncle Rich had more or less become a permanent couple. "Enough!!" my uncle yelled out, loudly and brusquely. My aunt stood and began to clear the table. "Well, that was a pleasant breakfast, wasn't it Emjay?" she said, sarcastically. He nodded politely and smiled, shifting his gaze to his plate, wisely not wanting to be any part of it. And then my mind flashbacked to what I'd seen him and my aunt doing that one day down in the dojo.
Clearing the table, I'd recalled a line I'd read in Tolstoy's Anna Karenina about unhappy families. Were we one? No, I decided, we weren't. It was only when Gordo visited that things got testy, which were seldom. Other than the verbal tirade she'd launched when she'd discovered him doing weed in his room, there were rarely any outright fights, quarrels or arguments. Instead, I believe, she internalized her angst over his behavior, channeling it to her sexual breasticular mammarosity. They became heavier, larger, fuller. More torpedic, conicular, pointed and voluminous. It was a thing that ironically made me sometimes look forward to a Gordon visit, despite having to put up with his moroseness, bitterness and sarcasm. It was worth it, in other words.
Later that Sunday morning, while I was napping in my basement bedroom with the door open, wondering what I ought to do the rest of the day, as there'd been no discussion of any family time at brunch, there was my aunt, leaning against the door jamb, an angelic smile on her face.
"Oh, hi," I said, turning my head on the pillow to the right to where she was casually leaning on the door jamb. I could see right away her bra had been removed, by the lazy, low, and abruptly fulsome puggly shape her tits and nipples were making into the top. I stared at at her covered breasthood there, and I knew she easily saw me staring there, but it had been an unspoken agreement between us since my childhood days after moving in with my Aunt Nancy, when I was 12, that she never minded me staring at her bust when we were alone, and in fact, seemed to welcome it. And for those perhaps new to the story, I'll remind them it'd been only a few months after moving in that she'd begun suckling me. When I was 8 she was only about a 34C, and by the time I was 12, when she'd first deigned to suckle me, she was pushing 36G, and about now, just after I'd turned 20, she was comfortably wearing 40K bras.
"Sweetie, your uncle, cousin and Emjay have taken off to the mall for some shopping this afternoon."
"Oh," I said.
"How about you and me go for a walk on the shore?"
"Sure!"
The parking lot on the North Shore was practically empty as we embarked with blankets and a backpack full of some food and utensils. We, in shorts and sneaks, strolled up along the shore, with the sea to our right, it being beautiful, serene, powerful, majestic, with a few cirrus clouds above, and a warm light breeze from the south. To our left was marsh grass, sand dunes, and little sea caves and inlets. Blessedly, no sign of people anywhere. Must have been some sporting event going on, possibly the NCAA final four, where everyone was either at the bars or in their living rooms with the big screens, their driveways full of cars of friends and family.
My aunt had brought along a sweater, but she soon took it off as we began walking in the sand, along the shore, there being no one out there, and it being unseasonably mild. The place being so bereft of visitors, she could have little concern that her outlandish nipplery currently and belligerently sticking out into her top would be an afright to others or an unnecessary attractant. I meanwhile enjoyed the view, strolling to my aunt's right, on the sea side, turning to my left now and then to get an eyeful of her potent and unusual puggelry.
I figured my uncle had offered to take her and me with them, to go shopping, and possibly stop into a restaurant/bar to watch the games, but figured my aunt had declined, for both of us. I imagined my aunt making a bee line for hers and Uncle Rich's bedroom, after they'd left, and her offing the bra and then putting the snug top back on. I knew she mainly wore it - a bra - for Gordon's sake. She didn't seem to mind being braless when only Emjay was visiting and Gordon wasn't visiting.
In any event, I knew her well enough that what I'd been seeing the last day or two was a level of bustiness near her maximum evoloovement - those times when her titlerhood machinery had reached so extensive a state of exacerbation and protuberation, where her body and mind were, I suspected, craving and needing some kind of monumentally explosive expression and were going to get it one way or the other.
Now and then as we walked along the beach she'd raise her hands up and do stuff with her hair and say something like, "Oh, I just love it out here, darling, don't you!?" And I'd nod and say something like, "Yes Aunt Nancy, it's the best."
Her top already was unable to make it down to the waistband of her shorts, given how much space her big pugnacious unbra'd tits occupied in it. And every time she'd do something with her hair, the snug little top'd ride higher and higher until it was barely covering the bottom thick well rounded thick titmeat of her two well appointed big juggbreasts. At some point in our walk I was sure any view up to her from below her waist would be treated a handsome view of bare bottom thick Aunt Nancy juggmeat. None of this bothered her at all, I surmised, for she'd become a woman so comfortable with herself, in all her voluptuous curvature and sexuality, I really believed her most comfortable outfit was none at all.
It was low tide and on our left started appearing little inlets and coves that were like small caves in some of them, where in them on the sand you could take shelter and gain respite from the sun and have a bit of privacy too. We wandered into one, the view from which you couldn't be beat, sand and waves crashing onto shore with a clear view of the horizon well beyond. Moreover, we'd yet to see a soul and given the late hour of the day it was unlikely we'd ever. Over us were moss and rocks and under us moss and sand of a soft spongy nature and there was just no question this was where my aunt should lay the blanket she'd been carrying, while unloaded from my backpack some food canisters, water bottle, and a small bottle of Cabernet.
We sat down on the blanket with me facing the inside of the cove cave and my aunt facing the opposite direction, with a clear view of the ocean. The part of her top which had been relegated the responsibility of covering her big right tit had abdicated such role, by this point, given all the jostling it'd been put through all afternoon, and now rode just only down as far as the top of her circle there, such that almost all of her 4 to 5 inch diameter right areola and 3/4 inch long nipple had gradually become exposed to my gazing eyes. It seemed like she didn't know that part of her had come out into the open. She just let her top ride like that, her large swelled, inflamed circle in full view to me, her nipple large and hard, while my cock got into the act of duly responding. In a minute it was rigid hard and pressing uncomfortably up into my shorts.
We'd brought no cups or glasses so we drank the Cabernet right out of the bottle and watching my aunt swig it down, holding the mouth of the bottle to her lips that way I must say I found sexy and attractive.
At one point she said, "Honey it's none of my business, I know, and truly, I don't wish to know either way, but my female intuition tells me that you and Kerry are now a couple." She took another swig of the Cab, and handed me the bottle.
"Umm, I guess you can say we've become fairly close." I took a swig, and held the bottle.
"Well you know sweetheart I just wanted to say I'm so pleased with how well you've grown into a handsome young man, my darling, and Kerry, well, just looking one can she's totally lovely and so cute."
I thought of Kerry's rocket missile-shaped pug-shaped nipples, huge and formidable and how she deadpanned said to me, "I like to fuck." I stared down at my aunt's exposed right one, and could see she wasn't far behind Kerry in terms of nipple length and thickness. "Umm, yeah, she's really cute, and nice," I said, not being able to just momentarily glance at my aunt's huge right tit, now wholly sticking out of the top even moreso, almost in its full bulgeous entirety, but had to just have a nice, long uninterrupted stare, even though my aunt wasn't talking about herself, but was discoursing on the girl who was supposedly my girlfriend, and who my aunt was just intimating, indirectly, though with little little doubt, without actually saying the precise words, that she knew Kerry and I were doing it, all the way.
My aunt, hearing me make no reply, but seeing me stare without interruption at her chest, wondering why I was doing so, perhaps, then looked down at her top and saw for herself that her big right jugg, was just out there, naked, so whole and big and potent. "Oh my, darling, one broke free!" I laughed a bit, said, "Yep!", and she smiled.
"Should we free her sister?" she asked, conspiratorially, playfully. I nodded yes, and said "Sure," quietly, still not taking my eyes off her big right one. My organ pressed insistently against my shorts and with the wine in me ,saw no need for pretensions, saw no need to cover up the evidence of my erection with my hands.
"Oh goody!" she said, lifting her top up and over her head and long flaxen hair like she couldn't wait to get the thing off, and tossing it to me. She put her palms under her hair and lifted it and let it all drop again, onto the top swelled part of her bared long huge fulsome breasts. "Just throw it in the backpack, honey," she said, as if she might not need it anymore, at least not for a good long while. I twisted around to my right, to stuff the little garment into the backpack, seeing the ocean and sand behind me, and when I turned back round, saw my aunt standing a few feet away, her white cotton shorts falling down her legs to rest on her feet, which she daintily reached down to grasp with her fingertips and also tossing those to me... "Same, darling." Which I did, as told, twisting around, stuffing them into the backpack, hearing her say, behind me, "Your Aunt Nancy's been so proud of you sweetheart, while your cousin Gordon's been visiting."
He wasn't technically my cousin, as neither his mother or father were related to my parents, but Aunt Nancy called him my cousin anyway.
She continued..."While Gordon's been immature and rude and thoughtless, I mean just an annoying oaf! wouldn't you say, you've continued to be just the way you are, a gentleman, strong and stalwart in all ways, even to him, as best you could, and it's made me so proud of you darling, words just can't really say enough."
She paused, breathing a tad more heavily then, and running her hands through her long hair again. Then, resuming the self-tweaking of her rather formidable nipplehood, while not looking at me, but looking out of the opening of our little cove-cave, trance-like. "And the crazy thing love is it makes me tingle inside, and I guess as you may have noticed, it makes my nipples large and full and so swollen and hard..." She was standing closer to me now, facing me, not a stitch of clothing on, tweaking each fat, swelled, nipple with her respective fingertips.
"... Which is why darling, I hope you understand.... your Aunt Nancy just has this overwhelming need, right now... to suckle you," she said, as I watched her gingerly and slowly lower her full naked body onto my lap, she facing me, "to my tits...", sitting on my thighs, wrapping her long silky smooth bared legs around my waist, her large fulsome breasts inches from my face; I looked up, and saw my aunt staring transfixedly, dreamily, angelically, at the ocean, through the opening of the small cove cave we were in, like her mind had left her.
And so cooperatively placing one palm, my hand in the up direction, on the inside of her big left juggtit, and my right palm on the outside and bottom of it, I began to suckle from her huge left torpedo-shaped juggernaut.
She began moaning quietly with delight upon the commencement of my worshiping of her, my tongue first performing along the outer perimeter of her areola. Her whole circular perimeter there, seemed large and inflamed, like it'd become the few other times I'd seen her in this charged-up state, perhaps some 5 inches in diameter, where, with my tongue, I could feel the whole thing rise up a quarter inch, like an escarpment, all along it, all around it... "oh yes, darling, lick me there, that's good my sweet love"... and within the circle of course on the inside of the perimeter of her overly developed nipplehood I could detect with my tongue as well all the many little, junior nipples, the hundred or so wannabee ones, tiny little swellings, evidencing her built-up sexual angst... "so good honey so good you do that so well like no one else can my sweet"... and then the thing which seemed unique to my aunt, in my limited experience, i guess you can call it her Inner Areola, which was a secondary swelling, that rose a quarter inch above the Outer Areola, conically, its perimeter rising about an inch and a half inwards from the Outer's perimeter, which Inner Areola itself had a diameter of about 3 inches.. "Suck me baby, that's right baby suck Aunt Nancy's big heavy titties, you just suck me honey."
A pause. Then:
"Love, honey, is that you under me feeling so hard?"
"Yes, Aunt Nancy," I said, interrupting my suckling.
"May I see?" she asked.
I nodded. She had my shorts and boxers off in less than a couple of seconds.
"Oh, I like that!" she said, looking down at me, her knees straddling my hips. "You're so grown up now!" I had no answer for that, and just stared at her, all of her, her hair, eyes, huge developed hanging breasts, left nipple all swelled and moist from my sucking on it, like it wanted to grow out of itself.
There was never any strangeness with this. It was as if I belonged to her and we both knew it. Hell, I didn't mind it. It was a fact of life to me.
She licked her lips and then deftly resumed her sitting position again, her buttox perched on my thighs, only this time with my bared erectified cock sticking straight up, pushed against her the small triangular plain of her smooth mons pubis, and below it, her clitoral hood shoved up close against the base of my cock. As I moved my hand to palm her other bigtitjugg, her right one, to suckle it also, with her palms pressed flat against my lower backside, she began pushing these external areas of her sex against the lower part of the shaft of my cock.
She got this pushing of her sex into a rhythm and started repeating "Oh honey, oh honey," over and over, as if she could no longer stop what was happening, even if she wanted to. We two, all fully bared, were now making contact for the first time in our lives, a thing never done since that first day the active suckling of me when I was but 12 to her rapidly developing and growing breasternalium had begun. Now in this sheltered cove by the sea eight years later in the waning afternoon light she was suddenly closer to fckng my now man-sized cock as she'd ever been.
Since the time I was 8 and she'd caught me staring at her large and pugnacious nipplehood when we'd gone jogging early one morning, where she was quite obviously unbra'ed in those just after dawn hours with me out there running on those empty suburban streets, given how plainly obvious it was, to me at least, the impression made on me at so young an age was that my aunt indeed had a force of nipplehood that demanded I reckon with it somehow. Like some switch had been flicked from that encounter between us, her breasts ever since had embarked on a well observable and noticeable journey of growth and enlargement and thickness, such that the bras she bought and kept in her dresser drawers were no longer the skimpy 34C ones she wore back then, and which same size she'd worn since her mid teens, but were now of the 38 to 40 inch variety, all of K and L cup hugeness, replete with thick nipple pads she wore on the inside of the bra cups when attempting to subdue her big tit nipplehood while as well attending functions in polite society or when out with my Uncle Rich not wanting to attack too much attention to her sensational nipplearium.
Meanwhile...
"Oh honey. Pleeees.... oh honey, please love...." She seemed about to cry or scream. My tongue swirled all around her right side nippular arena.... sucking and licking her torpedically swelled pointy tithood, her palms pressing against the base of my back at my waist half on the top of my gluteus maximus.
I felt, sure, and manly. I felt the insistency of my shaft against her and loved how her enlarged breasthood felt so swelled, developed, and smooth in my mouth. And because of everything I'd done with my aunt in the past, and everything I'd done with Kerry, I was ready.
"Oooohhhhhhh...." she went on, and ....she'd shifted,
only slightly... and.... then...as there was just no going back,
I was...suddenly...up deep, wholly so, fully and driving...
way beyond right and normal and acceptable and copasetic,
well beyond recourse, out into the galaxy, sailing the ocean,
up deep inside her, pulsing hard, rightly penetrating her.
. Cool story Andersenn keep up with it
