XXX Erotic Story of a Teen Boy and Aunt Millie
10-08-2014, 09:30 PM
Marcus was a fine looking young lad of fourteen when he came to live with me and my husband on our farm several miles outside of town. He had lost both his parents in a fire which destroyed their home above the general store they had owned in town. The loss was as hard on me as it had been on Marcus, his mother was my sister.
We were all the family he had left. For that matter, he was all the family we had left within a thousand miles or so. The rest of our family still lived back east. We had moved west five years earlier to stake a claim on a piece of Mother Earth and to become farmers. We were doing fairly well by ourselves but Marcus moving in had been a great help to my husband, Thomas.
He had been very withdrawn for a long time afterwards, never having had much to say, always off by himself. It was obvious he was lonesome and still grieving over the loss of his family. He also seemed to miss living in town where he had had friends. Out here on the farm, there was only us.
A week before Marcus' sixteenth birthday, we lost Thomas after a long bout with pneumonia. You would think that in this modern age of 1890 a doctor could do more for a person with pneumonia. Poor old Doc Howard had made the long horseback ride out to our place several times to treat Thomas. But there I was, at the ripe old age of thirty-two, a widow. Marcus hadn't taken this major life-changing event very well either.
I thank the good Lord that I had Marcus at that point in my life or I would have probably lost the farm too. He was a big strapping boy, with the same muscular build his father had had. I had always envied my sister for having a husband so handsome and well built. Not that Thomas wasn't a handsome and muscular man because he was, but Marcus' father had muscles that rippled under his dark skin when he moved. I knew it was wrong to feel that way, but I couldn't help it.
Now that Marcus was doing most of the physical work around the farm he was developing an even larger build. His skin was deeply tanned from many hours in the sun. When he came inside all sweaty after a long day of labor, the hard muscles in his arms and chest resembled large snakes moving under his skin.
One especially hot evening about six months ago, Marcus came in just before dark. I had supper ready for him. After quickly washing up he headed out of the kitchen toward his room.
"Where you going?" I asked.
"I'm just going to put a clean shirt," he replied.
"You don't need a shirt," I said, thinking to myself how much I would enjoy eyeing his muscles all through supper.
"I can't sit down at the table with no shirt on," he stated.
"Why not? It's very warm in here tonight. Besides, a hard-working man should be able to eat his supper in comfort and shouldn't have to wear a shirt at his own table if he doesn't want to," I suggested.
"It is awfully hot. You sure you won't mind?" he asked.
"Of course not," I answered. "Sit down and eat before your supper gets cold."
We sat through the evening meal talking about how things were going around the farm and such things as that. But my mind was far too busy watching him to pay too much attention to what he was saying.
By the time supper was over, I have to admit that things had gotten a lot hotter for me and a lot wetter. I was almost relieved to start cleaning up from supper and get away from the vision and the evil thoughts I was having about my young nephew.
While cleaning up the kitchen after supper I heated water and poured it into the big steel tub on the back porch for him to bath in. It took a while to heat and carry enough water. Finally I had enough water in the tub and pulled the door shut as he started undressing to bath.
I had been quite horny and a bit sneaky over the last few months and would turn the lantern in the kitchen down low and peek out the window, watching him bath. He had become an incredibly handsome young man. I loved to watch him lather up and wash his long blonde hair. With all that soap on his head, I knew he had to keep his eyes closed tightly and I didn't have to fear him catching me gawking at him.
My favorite part of the whole process was after he finished washing his hair, he would call for me to bring another bucket of hot water to rinse the soap out of his hair. He would cover himself with the wash rag and I would slowly, very slowly, pour the bucket of water over his head until the lather was rinsed away. I always wished for the wash rag to slip out of place; a few times it did, but I always acted like I hadn't noticed. I spent many wonderful evenings with my face pressed against that kitchen window and my hand under my skirts and inside my undergarments. Every time he would stand up in the tub and started drying, I would start getting wetter between my thighs. By the time he had finished dressing, I was always sitting in the front room with a book open like I had been reading the whole time he had been bathing.
On several occasions while I was bathing I had thought I'd caught him out the corner of my eye peeking at me through the same window. I was never able to get a good enough look to see if he was or not. But if he was, I'm sure he got an eyeful, I made sure of that. I was going on thirty-five-years old but my body was still in good shape and us Irish gals are noted for having beautiful red hair. I mean, it wasn't like he was sneaking a peek at some old hag, if he really was peeking at all. But it was a nice fantasy for me even if he wasn't.
For his eighteenth birthday, I had managed to save a little money to give him to go to town with. I figured an eighteen-year-old young man had things he would like to do in town. I had talked with him about drinking too much and how the salon girls would try to come on to him. I didn't want him going to town and getting taken but the first floozy who flapped her skirts in his direction.
Early that afternoon I prepared his bath; he needed to get an early start, it was a two-hour ride to town. He would stay with one of his friends and come home the next afternoon.
I took my usual station at the window after he had gotten into the tub. I was ready with the bucket of water to rinse his hair when he called for it, even though I wasn't quite ready to leave my window yet.
As I slowly poured it over his head he started trying to talk to me. "Aunt Millie, I really don't like the idea of leaving you alone out here for two days and a night," he said.
I tossed a towel over his head and he started drying his hair. "I appreciate that," I replied, watching him rub the towel roughly over his head. "Is that how you dry your hair, boy?" I asked, taking the towel from his hands. "No wonder your hair is still wet for so long after a bath. Here, let me show you how to dry it right."
I worked the towel briskly through his hair, carefully making sure to work it through of all his hair. "See, you gotta work the towel through your hair, not just over it," I said.
"That feels great. I shoulda got you to do that a long time ago," he smiled up at me. "Maybe you better show me how to do it one more time, I'm a slow learner."
Now I took my time and even worked my way down to dry his ears and neck. I could feel the tension in his neck muscles. I gently worked my finger over his large neck. "How's that feel?"
"Great," he answered.
I kept massaging away, slowly working my way over his powerful shoulders and down his broad back a little.
"Oh, that feels wonderful," he moaned, leaning slightly forward so I could go farther down his back. At least, I was hoping that was why he leaned forward.
"Does that feel better?" I asked softly.
"That feels good enough to make a fella almost forget about goin' to town," he replied.
I stepped to the side of the tub, wishing he really meant that, but I knew he was just trying to please me. I looked him in the eye. "A young man needs to go to town now and then to sew a few wild oats, it's nature's way," I said. "Whew, it's getting hot out here," I said, fanning the top of my blouse. "All that steam from your bath is getting to me I think." I undid the two top buttons of my blouse. I was curious what effect this might have on him.
"I know you'll be fine, but still I'm not so sure I like the idea of leaving you alone for so long," he said.
I knelt beside the tub, took his hand, and leaned forward over the edge of the tub. I could feel his eyes boring deep into my cleavage. He tried to avert his eyes so I wouldn't see him staring, but he couldn't. "I'll be fine while you’re away. Maybe a bit lonely, but I'll be fine. There's things a man's gotta do, especially on his eighteenth birthday."
I watched his face turn three shades of red. His eyes were still trying to sneak a peek down my blouse. "Well, yeah, but you shouldn't talk about something like that. It's a little embarrassing you know," he stammered.
10-08-2014, 09:30 PM
"Why is it embarrassing? It's human nature," I replied.
"Yeah, but it ain't the sorta of thing a fella talks to his aunt about," he said shyly.
"You don't have any men around here to talk to, so you're stuck with me. And I don't mind discussing these important matters with you," I said, trying to ease his embarrassment. "There's a lot of things a young man needs to know about life."
"I know, but gosh, Aunt Millie, I never figured you'd be the one to explain them to me," he said sheepishly.
"Well, I guess it's my place to tell you that stuff now that your father and uncle are gone," I replied. "And you're eighteen now, how about dropping the auntpart of my name? You're making me feel like an old maid aunt."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Millie, I mean Millie, I didn't mean to make you feel old. You're still a beautiful woman," he apologized.
"Why thank you, kind Sir, I appreciate the compliment. A woman my age needs that once in a while, just like a young man needs certain things once in a while," I said with a coy grin.
"Honest, you are a beautiful lady. I wasn't just trying to make you feel good," he said looking a bit embarrassed again. "Any man would you be proud to be seen with you and pleased to be with you."
"Marcus, now you're beginning to embarrass me," I grinned. "And just what do you mean by, 'pleased to be with me'? Be with me how?"
"I'm sorry, Aunt Millie, I didn't mean it that way," he tried to retract his statement. "I mean you're a nice lady to be with." He kept getting himself in deeper and I wasn't about to let up on him now.
"I know what you meant. And I'm honored that a handsome young fella like yourself would feel that way about me," I smiled. "I noticed you looking down my blouse a while ago."
He face turned crimson. "I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. Please forgive my rudeness," he begged.
"I didn't mind. It even excited me a little. It's been a long time since a man looked at my breasts that way," I said, undoing another button for his benefit. "You've probably never seen a woman's breasts before have you?"
"Ah no, Ma'am, I ah, haven't," he stumbled, his eyes widened as he stared farther down my blouse.
"Have you ever wanted to?" I asked in a soft, gentle, yet teasing voice.
He couldn't answer; he just sat there, stared with his mouth open as I undid another button, than another. I thought his jaw was going to drop into the water when I pulled my blouse back over my shoulders, slipped it off my arms, and let it tumble to the porch. I noticed the wash rag over his lap was sticking up into the air a bit now too.
"Looks like you have a pretty big problem there," I smiled, leaning forward to give him a better view of my cleavage.
He tried to conceal his growing member from my sight. I pulled his hands away. "That's all right, that's what's supposed to happen when you see a lady undressing for you," I said.
"I know, but I've never, I mean, I've… Oh God, I don't know what I mean," he apologized again.
"Well, I know what you mean even if you don't," I smiled into his bright-blue eyes as I slowly lifted the wash rag from his lap revealing his swollen manhood. He gasped as I gently wrapped my hand around it. "How does that feel?" I purred.
"Oh my God!" was all he said as I felt him growing harder.
"Does this feel good?" I whispered, slowly stroking his now throbbing shaft. I could sense his embarrassment, but I could also sense he didn't want me to stop.
His head leaned back, his eyes closed, and groan came from deep within him. I squeezed his shaft tight and stroked faster. It didn't take long for his body to go completely rigid, and a deep guttural growl to escape his lungs.
"Oh God!" he groaned, his body quivered and shook. Then it happened, he erupted in my hand.
His juice shot high up over his chest and stomach. I kept stroking him and it kept coming, some landed on my chest and slowly trickled down between my excited breasts. Some of it shot into my face, landing on my lips, which I quickly licked clean and wished for more. As I felt the pulsing of his still hard shaft slowly subside, I slowed but continued to gently stroke him. I didn't stop until I had felt the very last tiny pulsation.
I knelt there for a while still gently rubbing him as he slowly began to shrink in my hand. I watched the last thick droplets of his delicious cum lightly spurt from him and glide down over the glistening swollen head of his penis and onto my fingers that were still wrapped around him.
When I felt his body start to relax I leaned over him and licked the remaining cum from his spent member. It was delicious. I sucked him deep into my mouth and gently milked him for every last drop of the precious fluid I could coax from him.
I finally released him as his body wilted into the tub. He lookup up into my eyes with a warm glow I had never seen in him before. A sweet smile covered his face as he watched me lick the last of his cum from my fingers.
I slowly stood up, smiling down at him. "You better hurry if you're going to make it to town before dark."
"I don't think I'll be goin' anywhere tonight," he mumbled, a huge smile crossed his handsome face, "except maybe to bed."
"And just whose bed are you going to be sleeping in tonight?" I cooed, leaving the porch before he could come up with an answer.
10-08-2014, 09:30 PM
After finishing his bath, Marcus seemed to be trying to avoid me for the next hour or so. I figured he was trying to figure out how to deal with what had just happened between us, what it all meant, and perhaps, just how improper it had been, or was it improper for that matter.
I let him have his space for a while. If he needed to think things over, I didn't want to interfere with that. But after better than an hour, I decided it was time to step in and perhaps help him settle his mind a bit, or completely blow it.
He was standing on the front porch, leaning against one of the posts next to the steps, staring up the empty dirt trail running in front of our farm.
I eased up behind him, slid my arms around his narrow waist, snuggled up against him, and laid my head on his broad back. "What's wrong, Marcus? Something really seems to be working your mind overtime," I questioned. "If you still wanna go to town, I think you should go."
"It's not that. My mind is going around in circles about what we did this afternoon," he replied.
"You didn't do anything except enjoy what I was doing for you. If you're worried you did something wrong, you can shake that outta your head right now, cause you didn't," I said.
"Well, I got a lot to think about," he replied.
"Are you upset with me because of what I did?" I asked.
"Gosh no! That was the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. I never felt so great before," he replied.
"You liked that, did ya?" I asked, hugging him closer.
"Oh yeah, I loved it," he answered.
"Well, what's bothering you about it?" I pressed on.
"It's kinda embarrassing," he said.
"What I did embarrassed you?" I asked.
"No, the things runnin' through my mind are embarrassing to talk about," he said.
"Things like what? You should be able to talk to me about anything without being embarrassed," I kept pressing him, I had to know just what was bothering him. For all I knew at that point, I might have ruined everything because of a few moments of uncontrolled passion earlier that day.
"Okay, if ya really wanna know. That was the first time I ever did anything with a woman. I've never even kissed a girl before," he finally opened up. "I mean, I didn't even know what I was supposed to do. I felt so stupid."
"You're not supposed to know what to do yet. I would've been disappointed if you had," I explained. "You did just what you should've done, sit there and enjoy something a woman was doing just for your pleasure."
"Well, I guess I did it right then, cause that's just what I did," he smiled. "But I know there's things I was supposed to do to make you feel good too, I just didn't know what. Even if I had known what, I wouldn't have known how."
I almost had to laugh at his innocence, but I fought it off. Instead, I hugged him just that much tighter. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that," I said. "I love the idea of being your first and teaching you the right way to please a woman and yourself. If you listen to what the guys in a saloon tell ya, you wouldn't be pleasing nobody except yourself."
"Living out here in the middle of nowhere like this, today was probably all the sex I'll have for a long time," he replied.
"Wouldn't you like to do it with me again," I asked, using my best I'm-disappointed voice.
"Of course I would, but after my great performance this afternoon, I'm pretty sure you're not gonna be too interested in me anymore," he said. "I got so mad at myself for not knowing what to do. I mean, there were things I wanted to do, but I was afraid you wouldn't like it and make me stop, or even worse, get mad and stop doing what you were doing."
"What kind of things, Honey? What did you want to do to me?" I asked, still trying to coax some answers from him. "Did you want to touch me?"
He shook his head, yes, but said nothing.
"Where?" I pressed on. "Did you want to touch my breasts?"
"It was even worse than that. I know this is gonna sound really bad, but I actually wanted to kiss them," he said in a quiet voice, his face glowed red.
"What's so bad about that?" I asked, backing away from him a little and starting to slowly unbutton my blouse behind him.
"Well, nothing I guess, but it just didn't seem like the kind of thing a lady would want a fella to do," he explained.
"Actually, most women love that," I replied, still slowly working at the many buttons on my blouse.
"Really?" he exclaimed, spinning around to face me just as I pulled the blouse off and laid it over the porch railing. He stood there staring; his innocent blue eyes, wide with surprise, gazed down at me.
That's one of the nice things about living out here on the prairie in the middle of nowhere, there's never anyone else around. And if someone was coming from either direction, you could see the dust cloud they were kicking up from miles away. So privacy was not a problem out here. A person could run around naked as the proverbial Jay Bird out here for weeks on end and no one would see you or know about it, or even care, for that matter.
I took both of his large hands and placed them on my breasts. He very timidly and cautiously ran his hands over them. Gradually he gained a little courage or maybe his hormones kicked in, and he began to squeeze them gently.
"They're so soft," he whispered down at me.
"They're even softer once you get all my clothes off," I replied, suggestively sliding a shoulder strap over one shoulder. You know, just to see if he would take the hint.
He did, carefully pulling the other strap over my shoulder. But he stopped there and slid his labor-roughened hands over the soft, smooth skin of my shoulders. It was hard for me to fathom he had never seen a girl's bare shoulders before, but he hadn't.
He ran the backs of his huge fingers gently over my shoulders, up my neck, and across my throat and upper chest. He touched me so gently his fingers felt like wisps of spider web drifting over my skin. If the boy had nothing else going for him, he had patience; he seemed perfectly content just to touch my shoulders and neck forever.
"I knew women were supposed to be soft and smooth to touch, but I never dreamed they would be this soft," he said quietly, almost sounding in awe.
"Well, we are," I replied. "And we taste even softer. Kiss my shoulder."
He looked me in the eyes as if he were asking if I really meant it. I gave him a little "yes" nod. He slowly leaned down to me, timidly touching his lips to my shoulder. Him being 6'2" and me being only 5'3" made for a long way for him to bend over. But he must not have minded it because his lips lingered over my shoulders and neck for a tantalizingly long while.
By the time he raised back up to tower above me, he had raised my breathing and heart rate by several degrees.
"You like that?" I whispered, looking up into his face, searching for signs of just what might be running through his mind at that moment.
He slid his muscular arms around my waist. "Yes, Ma'am, I loved it, but please don't let me make a fool out of myself."
10-08-2014, 09:31 PM
I could feel the nervousness in his tense inexperienced body as he pulled me close. I could also feel the hardness of his eager manhood pressing against my stomach.
"You don't have to worry about that," I whispered, putting my arms around his thick neck and pulling his face down to mine.
His kiss was tentative and tender at first, but quickly grew aggressive and passionate. I waited with anticipation for his tongue to slide between my lips, but either the idea didn't cross his mind or he was afraid to try it. Well, you've heard the old saying, "nothing ventured nothing gained," obviously, I'm the adventurous type; I gently slid my tongue over his lips and slowly eased it between them. At first, his seemed a bit apprehensive about what my tongue was doing. I thought for a moment he was going to stumble backward off the porch, but his apprehension faded fast and I soon tasted his delicious tongue gingerly slipping between my waiting lips.
I wanted to applaud his performance; his virgin tongue danced a romantic ballet in my mouth that made any major ballet company performance seem like a hoedown. Was the teacher now being taught, I wondered? Either he really knew what he was doing or he was eager for his tongue to experience everything it possibly could in the next sixty seconds because it sought out every detail of the interior of my mouth, all at once. Such a hungry kiss I had never known.
I felt his arms tighten around my waist and my feet leave the porch as he stood up straight and carried me, still sucking on his delicious tongue, into the house. My legs slowly wound around his hips as he carried me.
The next thing I realized we were laid back across his bed and I was on top of him, with my skirt and petticoat wrapped up around my hips and my legs still wound around him. Even through my bunched up petticoat and skirt, and his pants, I could feel his hardness pressing and growing against me.
Finally our need for oxygen forced our wonderful kiss to end. I slowly sat up, straddling his hips with my legs folded back under me and my palms against his massive chest.
Gasping for breath, the only word I could force out of my mouth was "Wow!"
He looked up at me with the sweetest, most innocent smile I had even seen. "Did I do it right?" he asked in earnest.
I sat there a few moments unbuttoning his shirt and opening it up. I looked at his handsome face and grinned. "You learn fast. That was wonderful, but I think we better keep practicing for a while," I replied hoarsely, still trying to get my breath back as I pulled my undergarments the rest of the way down to my waist, fully exposing my breasts to him for the first time.
He only had a moment to enjoy the view before I lay back down on top of him and pressed them against his powerful chest and eagerly teased his tongue back into my mouth. He gasped a little when I squirmed and pressed myself hard against his swollen manhood.
I finally broke the kiss and raised up far enough for his hands to find their way to my breasts. It didn't take him long to figure out he could make me gasp and squirm against him more just by pinching my hard nipples.
"You sure you wouldn't rather go to town tonight?" I teased, squirming against him a little more.
"I don't think I'll ever wanna go to town again, there's too much to do out here," he mumbled, still kneading my breasts.
I leaned forward so one of my throbbing nipples was only an inch or so from his lips. He just stared at it for a few moments and slid his tongue over his lips.
"Am I supposed to…?" he started to ask.
"I cut his words short. "You're supposed to do whatever you want to do, whatever your heart tells you to do, whatever your desires command you to do," I whispered.
His timid tongue eased its way slowly out of his mouth like a young rabbit easing its way out of its burrow for the very first time. It was like he didn't know what to expect next or maybe he just wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do next. It didn't take him long to figure out that he liked the taste and the feel of my nipples in his mouth, because in a matter of seconds his tongue and my swollen nipples were locked in what seemed like mortal battle. His tongue was all over my breasts and he was simply tormenting my sensitive nipples.
When I pressed my breast tight against his lips, he eagerly sucked my enraged nipple as far as possible into his searing mouth. There for a minute I thought he was gonna swallow it. I could feel his excitement starting to mount; his hips were starting to involuntarily move up and down slightly in response to the new sensations in his groin. I have to admit, my hips were doing a little moving too, in response to some long absent sensations of my own. Things were beginning to get pretty wet down there for me as a matter of fact. This young, well-built lad had reawakened my lonely body and he had no clue what he had just done. I had always been an extremely sensual woman to my husband. But he was now long gone and sorely missed, and so was my ability to control my passions any longer.
Young Marcus had no idea what great, new and wonderful, pleasures awaited him on that night of his eighteenth birthday.
10-08-2014, 09:31 PM
Young Marcus had rekindled the fires of passion long ago banked within me. He lay on the bed, his inexperienced manhood desperately attempting to break out of the imprisoning trousers, but Marcus was afraid to do anything about it.
Still sitting atop him, I could sense a struggle building within him. There were things he wanted to do; things he needed to do, but he had not a clue as to what or how.
I decided it was time to help him, to give him his next experience, his next lesson on the finer things of life. If he thought what had happened in the bathtub earlier that day had been wonderful, what he was about to experience would absolutely astonish him.
I climbed off him and stepped down onto the floor. Slowly, I undid all the remaining buttons, hooks, ties, and other paraphernalia holding the rest of my clothing together and gracefully slid it all to the floor. Stepping out of the pile of garments, I stood nude before him for the first time.
I moved closer to the edge of the bed to allow him to touch me, but at the moment, he seemed perfectly content to just look at my nude body. Why not, after all, he'd never seen a naked woman before and there was a lot of new anatomy to be studied.
I took his hand and placed it on top of the patch of curly red hair crowning my womanhood. His eyes were as big as hen's eggs. His large fingers slid over the silky hair. I could see he was breathing harder, but that wasn't the only thing I could see about him getting harder.
While his fingers played over my hairs, I reached over him and undid his trousers. He raised slightly as I slid them down over his narrow hips. His swollen manhood seemed spring-loaded when I released it from his confining underwear. Marcus seemed a bit embarrassed by this, but it didn't appear to bother the obviously anxious creature I had just freed. In fact, it seemed downright, or should I say, upright happy to see me.
I stepped back to pull his boots and socks off. Grabbing his trousers by the cuffs I pulled them the rest of the way off, taking time to folded them neatly and place them on his dresser before I returned to finish removing his underwear. I must say, he looked absolutely delicious lying there completely naked. His face turned several shades of red from a small case of embarrassment. His manhood was quite red too, but I don't think that had anything to do with embarrassment.
"Sit here on the edge of the bed," I suggested, patting the mattress edge.
I stepped between his legs, standing as close to his face as possible. His rough, but loving hands roamed over my body, lingering on my breasts a while before moving over my hips and around to cup my behind to pull me closer.
He finally took a little initiative and started covering my breasts with tender kisses and swirling his inexperienced tongue around my begging nipples. I guess a lot of experience is not required in that particular activity because he instantly set my sensitive nipples ablaze with delight. I wrapped my arms around his head, holding him closer, not wanting to allow the sensual creature darting in and out between his lips to cease its sweet assault on my nipples. It had been so long since I had felt the searing attention a loving man could give me, especially one who was interested in pleasing me as much as himself.
Obviously, Marcus was very interested in making me feel good. He sucked one of my sensitive nipples into his hot mouth and lightly bit it. I gasped at the explosion of pleasure-pain his teeth sent raging through me.
He jumped back; a look of near panic covered his young face. "Oh God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you!" he apologized, tears welling up in his big blue eyes.
"You didn't, Honey," I assured him, pulling his face back to my breasts. "Do it again, a little harder this time."
His teeth went back to work on one of my excited nipples.
"Oh yes! That's it, that's it! Harder!" I begged.
He switched to the other nipple. Pulling his lips down over his teeth, he really bit down on the hard morsel.
"Oh, Marcus, that's wonderful!" I screamed. "Don't stop! Please don't stop!" I held his head tight in my arms, enjoying the daggers of beautiful pain ripping through my body all the way from my breasts to the growing wetness between my thighs.
I slowly stepped over his legs one at a time, so his legs were between mine. That little maneuver opened my thighs and gave his hands easy access to my tingling womanhood in case he wanted to do a bit more exploring.
He didn't get the idea of what I wanted him to do until I took his hand and placed it between my thighs. Cautiously, his large hand fumbled around between my legs, feeling, touching, and exploring.
After several minutes of his inexperienced roaming, he finally worked a finger between the moist lips of my womanhood and found my found clitoris. He knew right away he had found something good, something important, because the moment his scorching finger touched it, a loud moan tore from my throat.
I watched a wonder smile grow across his face as his increasing attention to that little button made me moan more and louder. Then his busy finger began exploring again.
I could feel his nervousness as his finger gently probed around the soft, wet rim of the entrance to my most private place, the doorway to my inner-self.
"Go ahead, Baby, slide your finger inside," I whispered, squirming in an attempt to help his finger find its way.
He looked up into my face as if checking to be sure I really wanted him to do that.
"Please, Baby, please," I begged. "Make me feel good; feel my insides."
My breath seized in my lungs at the fantastic sensation of his large finger entering me. Marcus must have enjoyed the feeling too, because he quickly started working his finger around and moving it in and out. The more he worked it the more I moaned. It only took a few moments of this marvelous attention, coupled with his nibbling on my nipples to send me into the most powerful orgasm I had experienced in many years.
My body began to quiver and shake. A low-pitched, high-volume groan screamed from deep within me as my body felt like it was unraveling from the inside out. My thighs and his wonder hand were drenched with what felt like gallons of my lady-cum.
Marcus became quite excited by this and he worked a second finger into me. The fantastic contractions inside me rapidly grow stronger instead of waning as he continued his wonderful manipulations to my impassioned body. He seemed overjoyed at being responsible for giving me this great pleasure. He was now sure he was doing his part right.
Not able to support my own weight any longer, I collapsed on his lap. The poor boy was lucky I hadn't squished his head, I squeezed it so tight in my arms when he set me off.
He looked me in the eyes. "Did that feel good?"
Panting and fighting to regain my breath along with a smidgen of strength, I managed to gasp, "Feel good is too mild of a description for how wonderful you just made me feel."
"Then I did it right?" he asked with a huge grin of final conquest on his handsome face.
"Oh yes. I'd say you've got that part down to perfection," I smiled back at him.
"That was the prettiest thing I've ever seen," he said, shyly adding, "I didn't know girls liked that. I thought they weren't supposed to enjoy sex. I thought it was just something they were supposed to do to please their husbands and I didn't know girls had juices that came from them either."
"If a man does his part right, with the feelings of the woman in mind, she'll have plenty of juices for him. And, Honey, you sure did your part right."
"It smells so wonderful," he mumbled like he wasn't sure if he should mention that or not.
"It tastes wonderful too," I said, placing my fingers between my thighs to get them wet, then placing them against his lips. I nearly came again when his hot mouth closed around my fingers, cleansing them of every drop.
"Later I'll show you how to really taste it," I said.
"Why later? What's wrong with right now?" he asked impatiently, pulling me closer again.
"I have other delightful things to show you first," I replied, stepping up from his lap.
Slowly, I separated his legs and knelt to my knees on the floor before him. Resting my arms across his thighs, I took his gorgeous, young manhood in my hand and gently stroked him.
"Oh God, I love that," he moaned, falling over on his back to enjoy the wonderful sensations coursing through his body, and perhaps to enjoy the earlier memories from the bathtub.
After allowing him a few moments of that pleasure, I decided it was time for him to experience his next great pleasure. I leaned forward and slid my tongue around the swollen head of his manhood. The sound escaping his throat was nothing compared to the gasp he issued as I sucked him deep into my hungry mouth and held him there, sliding my slippery tongue up and down the sensitive underside of his engorged member.
The lad was already so excited; it took only a few minutes of my mouth's warm attention before I felt him rapidly building toward ecstasy. His body went rigid and nearly rose from the bed. Suddenly, a groan, the likes of which I hadn't heard in years, tore from his very being as his delicious, young juices spewed hotly over my tongue and into my throat. Spasm after spasm pumped more of his creamy nectar into my hungry, waiting mouth. My tongue continued to slide up and down his pulsating shaft, savoring the delicious salty taste of his eruption.
I continued my loving attention on his manhood, milking him for every drop, until I felt his body relax. I pulled my satisfied mouth from his manhood with in one long, slow, hard suction motion. As he lay there totally spent, I licked him clean, savoring each creamy drop of his delicious juices.
He didn't have enough
energy left to move. I helped him up the bed far enough so he wouldn't fall off in his sleep and pulled a blanket up over his glistening, nude body.
I leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the lips. "You sleep for a while, Sweetness, you're gonna need your rest for later tonight."
The sweetest, most innocent smile I had ever seen crossed his young, handsome face as his eyes fluttered shut. He said not a word; words were not needed.
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