Carl knew that he had to tread a very fine line between licentious behavior and considered pleasure and not take advantage of the opportunity to meet the needs of his aunt, Joan Hansen. She had moved in with his mother, Doris Moore after they had each gone through wrecking divorces. Work alone was of no real comfort to either of them, but his attentive ways had been pursued with both of them, although natural restraint at being coaxed to be with Doris had affected the outcome and their relationship with it. He had known of lust and affection with each of them, but real sharing of the heat with Joan alone.
Joan’s mane of thick curly white hair with strands of grey framed a smiling unlined face, its luxuriance like a halo when it caught the sun. He’d become besotted with her captivating smile, the pearly stud earrings she never kept from wearing, her full-breasted figure, broad hips, and long legs that her choice of work wear could not conceal from his appraising glances. He lusted after her and was glad to catch Joan’s bewitching smile when she would find him looking her way. It acknowledged the hunger that she felt in her body too. Love, or was it lust, did not seem to fade with the passing of the years and she had succumbed to him and his claims upon her that first time, and afterwards. That flame was not to be quenched so easily.
Joan had spoken out, in a moment’s candor, about the devasting breakup of her marriage. His words of consolation were followed by an embrace, a furtive kiss, and then the stumble into an affair that could only ever be pursued when he called in on them. His skills in electrics and construction work enabled him to make a home for her within a home, the large house too big for Doris alone. His work as an IT engineer paid the bills. What he had done and continued to do for Joan in fashioning her apartment, and helping with the transporting of furniture that she bought and then worked on, kept them close and in each other’s company.
Doris’s sprawling house had been successfully converted into both a home and a place of work that was some twelve miles from Des Moines. The neighboring houses and lots weren’t so far away so they did not feel isolated, and there they could each pursue their distinct business interests and still be supportive of each other. That bond had held good despite her almost being caught, in flagrante, with him, but that event had only opened the door to happenings that no one else ever got to learn of and concerning the three of them. He could readily admit that he was an energetic and accomplished giver of fleshy solace that defied all that had gone before between them.
‘What others don’t know can’t hurt them,’ he murmured but it was louder than intended. He drove over the roads that rose and fell through prairie fields ready to be cropped, over a boarded bridge, and past woodlands that would bring them to Joan’s home.
“That’s true, hon’,” Joan smiled across the space between them, her voice soft and melodious. He had offered to help deliver two finished pieces of painted furniture, the two items squeezed into his ever so smart Jeep Cherokee, its black paintwork gleaming. “You’ve been good to me in helping get those pieces delivered and to bring the next one back. It’s a miracle we squeezed it in!”
“I intend to buy a trailer, a covered one so that we can pick up more things. You’ve got me looking out for pieces too, now, and Evelyn wants something you’ve worked on, for our place. It all goes to helping us be together.” He confessed to it all as he glanced her way for only a moment. The woman beside him, even in those dungarees, sure wound his clock.
She knew from that look upon her what was again at work in him. She reached across the space between them and stroked his lean, shaven face, then through his spikey brown hair. They kept breaking all the rules, but they were into each other and all that had been and continued to be discovered. His white T-shirt fitted snugly on his toned arms and his faded jeans shaped strong thighs. She, the older woman cast aside by her ex, knew all about him now.
“What?” Carl smiled, looking again for only an instant at her. Even in washed-out work dungarees worn with a navy-blue blouse, the white floral print crisp and eye-catching, Joan carried off the style. The customers they had called on had seemed unbothered by her appearance. Joan’s clothes were clean and her make-up was enough to show that she cared about that.
“I just like being with you and working together,” she replied. “You seem to make time to help me, in everything.”
“I don’t seem to do that, I do it. Besides, I’m not expected at my real work until early evening. We can be together for a while longer…and if Doris is not at home when we return.”
“What others don’t know won’t hurt them,” she repeated as the wheels of his car rumbled on the driveway of Old Prairie Place, its white-boarded elevations sharply outlined against the blue sky.
It was the motto they now lived by, and they weren’t so demanding of each other that anyone new, who might come into her life, would change. They lived for the moment and he, deceitful as it was in what he thought and felt about what was happening to him whenever he was in Joan’s company, still went home to Evelyn.
Joan shifted in her seat, the safety belt tightening across her body and shaping her breasts as she answered her iPhone.
“Hi, Doris…yes, we’ve just got home.” She gripped his arm to detain him as Carl sought to open his door. “We’ve brought some more work back and we’re about to unload…” Joan fell silent but gave him a soft suggestive smile. “That’s too bad, sis…if we’d known we could have helped out.” Joan held her iPhone away. “She’s broken down…”
“Does she want me to…?” he began but Joan deliberately pressed fingers to his lips and silenced him.
“Well, if you’re sure? I’m glad the repair’s not going to take too long. I’ll expect you then…yes….bye!”
Joan pressed her phone to her lips and laughed softly. She then looked his way. “If we’re quick in unloading my new work, we’ll have some time to be together, really together…”
“Like this and doing this?” he grinned, needing no encouragement to lean in across the space between them and to kiss her, his right hand soon drifting up to brush against the front of Joan’s dungarees. “You sure look good, whatever you’re wearing.”
“Make me feel that way too,” she kissed, fumbling to tug free her scarf that held her hair in place. It had lent her a stylish look that she could now forsake, seeing as she was with him, and Carl only too involved with her once more and the prospect of sharing the heat.
“I intend to do that, but we’re taking a chance again…”
“That’s what makes it special.”
“I guess that’s so. Makes no sense keeping it a secret from each other.”
Joan pointed in the direction of the doors to the small barn that had been turned into her office and workshop, the white paint on its boarded walls flaking off and lending the building a settled appearance that blended in with the surrounding trees and wild shrubbery.
“The sooner we get the stuff inside the sooner we’ve got time for ourselves.”
2
Joan inflamed his senses to the point of being obsessed with her fleshy attraction. She knew how to love and had done so uninhibitedly and read him like an open book. Out of her bed, they got along, and he enjoyed her company, marveling at Joan’s skills in transforming a redundant piece of furniture back to life and making it only too saleable. She had money, the divorce some time ago seeing to that, but under the veneer that was her vivacity there also lurked the hurt of having been rejected. Doris had been around the same loop of life, but in her burned a more resilient flame, and that Joan’s raging demands of him, in and out of her bed, made clear.
“There’s no rush…her car needs mending and then she has to drive back home!” she groans and shivers under his lingering caresses, her mind, and body possessed with what will be shared, the breathless urgency to be felt in their kisses.
“I’m not worrying about that but sharing it all with you…all of it! You’ve become a drug that I don’t want to kick.”
“But we may have to do that,” she ventured but hoping that day was still far off.
“Later…we’ll talk about that later if we must!”
She is naked in his arms, and he shudders on feeling those wonderful and heavy breasts cupped in his hands. He feels their weight and marvels at how shapely they remain. He lifts one, then the other, and squeezes on them gently, Joan’s hand reaching back to grip his penis as it slides over the small of her back, teasing the skin at the base of her spine. He maintains gentle caresses and loves what he sees as perfection in their weight and shape, the hardness of her nipples as his fingers gently tug on them. She shivers and reaches back, meets his deepening kisses, and squirms as his fingers trace a path over her belly and caress her slit, probing and sliding over her pussy’s lips.
“You wonder…you beautiful wonder,” he murmurs, his lips pressed to her throat. “We shouldn’t be feeling this way, but I can’t stop.”
“I’m goin’ to believe you…what you’re telling me. What I feel is good enough!”
She leans back, shivers on feeling his breath on her throat and face, and makes it appear that her pussy’s open to his caresses. He knows from other times together what she likes. She shifts to meet each probing and slicking caress of his fingers, but she grabs his wrist to slow the pace; she doesn’t want to climax too quickly and wants to prolong these moments of foreplay and rediscovery. His other hand seems to glide over her belly and breasts, to squeeze and feel their weight, and brush in featherlight caresses over her nipples.
“You bring me so much,” she murmurs appreciatively, massaging his thick pole of flesh and cupping his balls, rolling them in her agile fingers. They must feel rough on his skin, but Carl’s in thrall to what she is doing and brings to his sight and touch. That much she already knows.
“Just as you do,” he kisses, his hands moving to her fleshy buttocks and drawing her against him. “Is it allowed, what I feel again for you and want to do?”
She embraces him and sighs in deepening satisfaction at feeling his naked body against her. “No one’s going to know except us…and Doris.”
Joan offers sliding caresses and kisses to his body as he moves down to kiss his length, takes its swollen tip in her mouth, and has her tongue tip dance around it, slicking the smooth tip. Each touch arouses a groan of wanton pleasure, her slow sucks making him tremble. Carl groans and grips her tangle of hair in his feeble attempts to stop her bobbing and sucking rhythm, the grip of her fingers on his sac arousing the rushes of pleasure in his belly and prick.
“Jeez! That feels so good!” he groans as she has finally settled on a rhythm, her fingers encircling the base of his shaft and squeezing on it in time with her sucks and moving of her lips down over him, his penis going ever deeper into her open mouth. The swirls of her tongue, her actions on him, arouse groans of pleasure, the tensing of his buttocks as she works him. “I’ve gotta hold on!”
“I’d like that,” she smiles up at him and meets the wondering look in his eyes as his hands slide between them and onto her breasts. “I won’t stop you doing that…I love to feel your touch on me, darlin’, so go on,” she says in a husky voice.
She leans in and turns her head so that she can slick her tongue over his length, then his balls before she again takes him in her mouth. His hands squeeze and tug on her breasts, in time with her working on him and his groans of pleasure and deepening breaths.
“Let’s fuck…let me love with you or I’ll blow!” he gasps and tugging her hair to persuade Joan to stop these wild and pleasurable claims about him. His balls seem to want to burst and the pressure in his penis tip is unbearable to withstand.
“Come on then!” she yelps on tearing her breasts free of his claims and falling back on the bed, her feet scrabbling to gain some purchase on the bed covers and to make space for them. “I want to fuck…to fuck with you!”
He smiles at their coarse use of words and complies. He lies back on the bed and his prick seems to just glide into her slicked heat, each of them looking down at where they are joined, her pussy’s lips pink and glistening, already swollen from their arousal. They lie still and languish in the pleasure to be felt on being joined once more. They share in deepening open-mouthed kisses, who they are to each other, and the family bond, pushed to one side before she begins to slowly rock and twist on him and to feel Carl’s love wand probe and progress ever deeper. They hold their kisses as she continues to move, meeting each other’s stare of acknowledgment that it’s happening again.
Carl’s hands grip her swaying breasts, tug on hard nipples, and she bends forward to kiss him even as she moves and varies the angle of his prick so that she can have it caress different spots within her. He’s so thick and deep and she delights in the feelings of wanton abandonment of his ways in her. She groans and pants in pleasure, pinching his chest with the sweep of her hands over it as she begins to move in quickening tamping sways of her body upon him.
“Lean back…lean back on my knees,” he commands, and she does so, a whimper escaping over her lips as he finds her in a new, stretching way as she rides him; thrusts her hips forward and back, and stimulates her clit that he finds in loving her in this way. She can lean back against his legs, be supported, and together share in a newly discovered way, for them, at least.
“Carl…Carl!” she gasps, rushes of pleasure gripping her pussy and coursing up and through her body. Her swaying, jerking breasts, her nipples, tingle and she wonders how to prevent the fall into an orgasm. She has to hold back. Her body’s demands for satisfaction need to be restrained even if she feels that she is rising to a moment of unbounded pleasure induced by her nephew’s wonderfully long and thick prick. Hot flesh is in her, in his aunt, but they both seem to be detached from that reality and she is the older woman being fucked by a horny and well-hung guy; a guy who happens to still be her nephew.
“Hold on…I’m trying to do the same!”
“I’m trying to, believe me!” she yells in reply, lifting away from his kisses and gazing up at the ceiling. Carl reaches between them to brush his thumb over her clit, and she can’t keep from groaning, bucking her hips to meet his touches as she continues to rise and fall on him. The rush that she felt, on what she believed was her approaching orgasm, has now lessened. “Stop for a moment, shall we?”
She feels him shudder as she moves up and off him, his penis glistening and its domed tip slicked with pre-cum. Joan touches it wonderingly.
“Yeah, you’ve made me so hard. Make it worth the wait, Joan, won’t you?”
“It won’t be long; I can’t bear the waiting either.” She leans forward and brushes his skin with the tips of her breasts, making sure they sweep over his penis that she holds to do so. She kisses the tip, swirls her tongue over it, and tastes their love juices. “Now take me…”
“Differently, if you’ll let me?” he suggests.
Only now are the purposes of a small bottle of lubricant and the pack of condoms becoming clear.
“I’ve never been into that, those ways of it,” she muttered, her voice suddenly deepening as she shifted away from him on the bed. She wondered if he would give her a straight answer to what she now felt compelled to ask of him. “Is Evelyn, your girl, into all of that?”
“Sometimes, and I’m not going to make you do it for me,” he replies, his tone conciliatory. “Try it with me, though, please?”
She’s taken by his soft-voiced request and, yet, she should have known; young people were into all kinds of ways of sharing the heat. “Go slowly and stop, if I ask that from you.”
It was more of an order that he had to comply with, rather than a request. She brushed her fingers over his chest as he knelt before her, smeared the oil liberally over her crack and the puckered skin of her butt hole, then over the tip of his penis. He stopped for only an instant, then rolled a condom over his arcing flesh, unrolled it down to the base and the mass of pubic hair that she now touched.
The insistent grip of his hands on her legs made her turn and then kneel before him before he knelt behind her, the press of his knees coaxing her to open the way to his entry. She groans in dismay at feeling this alien penetration…
