I was thirty years old when my aunt Emily became a widow. Though “aunt” was really just a technicality. She was only four years older than me, and we’d grown up together since she’d come to live with my family after her parents died. She was more like an older sister than an aunt. We went to school together, did our homework at the same kitchen table, and played together in the yard. So what kind of aunt was she really?
She lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere in rural Iowa. A farmhouse, some land, a couple of kids. Her husband, Mark, hadn’t been much to look at, but he’d been there working the land, keeping things together. They’d scraped by, more poor than comfortable, but they’d made it work. And then, just like that, she was alone. It was tough.
I took a month off work and went to help her out. More than nine months had passed since Mark had passed. During that time, I’d come by when I could to lend a hand. But now it was summer, and there was winter prep to do: hay to bale, firewood to stack, all sorts of chores. She’d sent the kids to summer camp so they wouldn’t be underfoot. So we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. I only had a month off, but the work seemed endless. Before the harvest, we decided to tackle some yard work and make repairs around the house, little things here and there.
After about a week, I started to feel uncomfortable. I was a healthy young man with needs, and here was Emily, who’d practically raised me like a sister, parading around in nothing but a thin sundress, her panties long abandoned in the summer heat. And there was plenty to look at. She was short but packed with curves, soft and lush all over, like a fresh-baked roll. There was plenty to grab onto, plenty to lie down with. Her breasts, her ass, every inch of her. And then there was the hunger, the need. It was all too much.
I remember when I was stationed in the wilderness for two months I was ready to drag a bear out of its cave and fuck it doggy-style. This wasn’t the wilderness, and Emily wasn’t a bear, but that didn’t make the desire go away. It only grew stronger.
We’d be working, or she’d be doing chores in the yard. She’d bend over, and that thin sundress would ride up, exposing everything. Her round, full ass, the shadowy cleft between her cheeks, the dark curl of hair peeking out. My boxers were stretched to their limit. I was about to burst, needed to relieve the pressure. My ears were ringing, I was seeing stars. And I wasn’t some kid, but there I was. No, I wouldn’t last long like this.
We’d just finished in the sauna and were resting under the awning. She had a little covered patio right by the sauna, with a bench and a table. The old apple tree shaded it all with its branches, hiding us from any prying eyes not that there was anyone to pry, since the sauna was tucked away in the far corner of the yard. On the table was some homemade moonshine and snacks, and we were eating, washing it down with sweet tea. After the sauna, Emily had put on nothing under her sundress. Her body was visible right through the thin, threadbare fabric.
We were already a little tipsy, talking. No matter what we talked about, the conversation always circled back to the same old topic: sex. It had started innocently enough. I’d simply asked if she had anyone in mind to settle down with. She couldn’t stay a widow forever, after all.
And she’d answered that in a small town like this, it was unlikely she’d find anyone. All the eligible men were already taken. There were plenty of women and a serious shortage of men. And to just be some man’s plaything, well, she’d never live it down.
Of course, she’d love to find someone, but what would the kids think? And where would she even find a man? But her body, damn it, had needs, and she wasn’t even forty yet.
Then the conversation turned to my love life. We talked. Then we had a little more to drink, and the conversation became completely uninhibited.
Emily laughed as she remembered our childhood mischief and how we’d always gotten in trouble for it. After all, Dad God rest his soul had treated her like his own daughter and spanked her just the same as he did me. He’d lift up her dress, pull down her panties, and whack her bare ass with his belt. Then we’d show each other the marks, feel sorry for each other, and hatch plans for revenge. Not against Dad, but against whoever we thought had gotten us in trouble. And Emily said she still had scars on her ass from Dad’s belt. And without any hesitation, she showed me her ass as soon as I asked her to.
And that was it.
She bent over the table, lifted her sundress, and showed me her ass. Only a dead man could have resisted. And even he would have probably gotten hard at the sight of that ass. Pale, full, her cheeks slightly parted, revealing the little pucker of her anus, and below what a sight the soft, closed lips of her pussy.
Barely whispering in a hoarse voice, “Let me comfort you…” I pressed my lips to her ass, grabbed her hips, and my hand automatically slid between her legs, pushing deep into her pussy, feeling the heat and wetness of her eager flesh on my fingers.
We’d comforted each other like this after Dad’s belt, blowing on and kissing each other’s sore bottoms. As kids, Emily had always taken care of me. So nothing new or special had happened. We’d just returned to our old bond.
Holding her sundress with one hand, her bare ass on full display, Emily headed back to the sauna, beckoning with her hand. If she was inviting me, I had to go.
Leaving my clothes on the bench, I followed. The evening air chilled my bare ass. After all, the body doesn’t react to cold the same way the ass does. It’s always hidden under underwear, jeans, and who knows what else.
Emily was already washing, her legs bent, her pussy thrust forward, water cascading down her hair, her legs, splashing onto the floor. “What are you staring at, Jake? Wash up!” she said. “You wash me.”
As kids, Emily had always taken care of me. So it was only natural she’d wash me now.
Kneeling down, she took the head in her mouth and sucked it with pleasure, then let it out, kissed it, put it back in her mouth, and continued sucking, purring with pleasure like a cat with cream.
Of course, a body that had gone so long without a woman’s touch would react. My cock started swelling, growing thicker, and stood at attention.
Emily satisfiedly let my cock slip from her mouth. “Can you go again?” she asked. “My late husband would have needed a couple of days after this. There’s no time for talking when it’s standing like this. This is a matter that requires decisive action.”
And I laid Emily out on the bench, spread her legs wide, and leaned over her.
Real women don’t shave down there. They don’t have time for such nonsense. What nature gave them is what they have. Maybe they’ll trim with scissors if it gets too wild, but otherwise, no one bothers. Unless they’re going to the doctor, then yes, they might make an exception.
Dark, slightly curly hair covered her mons, timidly creeping onto her lips, and a few bolder strands surrounded her tight little hole.
Emily, spreading her legs and pressing them to her chest, completely opened herself up, waiting for me to continue what we’d started outside.
Spreading her pussy lips apart with my hand, I leaned even lower, getting on my knees, and inhaled the scent of her pussy. It smelled incredible: fresh skin, soap, and a hint of musk.
Her lips, which had seemed so full, parted, revealing their inner secrets: the pink flesh of her inner lips, the dark nub of her clit, a slightly open entrance. And all of it was covered in moisture, her arousal glistening in the lamplight.
I couldn’t resist. And I covered her inner lips with my mouth, sucked her clit into my mouth, and latched on like a man possessed.
How she started grinding her ass against me! How she pushed back against me! And the sounds coming from her slightly open mouth! The hands that had been holding her bent knees now grabbed my head, letting her legs fall where they may, pressing my face into her wet flesh, holding me tightly, not letting me escape.
Her thighs clamped around my ears, tensed, lifting her ass off the bench as high as it would go, her body arching almost into a bridge.
The desire to help is in almost everyone. I was no exception. I slid a couple of fingers into her pussy and started moving them, helping her reach her peak.
And she, poor thing, still couldn’t climax. Something was missing. Her juices, flowing from her tight hole, ran down her ass cheeks, dripping onto her anus, and pooling beneath her.
It dawned on me I had another free hand! Her well-lubricated little hole easily accepted my finger into her ass.
And now my fingers were working both her holes. It was beyond human endurance.
Almost breaking my neck with her tense thighs, she screamed, and with that scream, she finally came. Her muscles inside her pussy and ass clenched, trembled, her thighs squeezed my head tighter, and she froze.
Relaxing and letting me go, she dropped her legs to the sides of the bench. Her body still trembled, sobs escaping her lips.
I started getting into a more comfortable position, burning to get my own pleasure. And suddenly, a stream shot out of her. Hot urine hit my chest, ran down my stomach, and the stream didn’t stop.
Everything comes to an end. The stream ran out. Emily lay relaxed, tears streaming from her squeezed-shut eyes, her body shaking with sobs.
I, sitting at the head of the bench, kissed her eyes, cheeks, forehead, lips, comforting and coaxing her. The sobs subsided.
Emily suddenly sat up on the bench. “What are you crying about?” I asked. “Did I hurt you?” “The shame of it! I peed!” “It happens, it’s no big deal.”
Her index finger poked my chest, her voice became accusatory, like a prosecutor in court. “It’s your fault!” she said. “It’s been like this since I was a child. No matter what happens, everyone else is to blame.”
The accusatory speech didn’t last long. Glancing at me, then at my cock standing at attention, she silently threw her leg over the bench, stood up, pressing her pussy against my face as I knelt.
She pressed my head against her, burying my nose in her pubic hair, then let go and suddenly turned around, bent over, placed her hands on the bench, and presented her ass. “Come on!” It was clear what she wanted without any clarification.
So I gave it to her. Her pussy was soaking wet. I couldn’t feel a thing, sliding through all that moisture. Her ass relaxed, shamelessly presenting her little brown hole. “Why not?” she said. “Your finger was already there.”
I pulled the head out of her pussy and pressed it against her ass. Emily tensed, clenched. “It’ll hurt!” “Bear with it. I’ll be gentle.” “Or better yet, you hold it, and I’ll do it myself.”
She relaxed and started slowly lowering herself onto my cock. And when the head passed through the tightest part, preparing the way for the rest, she sat down with a sudden thrust.
She gasped. Then gasped again when I pulled out. And again when I pushed back in. And then the gasping stopped, replaced by the panting and groaning of two people, along with the slapping of my stomach against her ass.
We went to bed together, in the same bed. We hugged, pressed our naked bodies together, kissed a little, and fell asleep. After all, we were both exhausted.
Long live morning wood. That’s when you’re not fully awake yet, but you’re already hard and need relief. And there was somewhere to relieve it. There she was, Emily, sleeping soundly, curled up in a ball, cozily tucked under my arm.
But I’d taken her from behind yesterday, more than once, but to do it properly, face to face, that was something we needed to do. And the sooner, the better.
As soon as I touched her with my palm, she rolled onto her back, spread her legs, lifting and bending them at the knees, pressing them into the mattress and lifting her ass. All with her eyes closed.
The invitation was more than obvious. I took advantage of it. As soon as I rolled to the side, having spilled my morning load, she jumped out of bed and ran, pressing her hand against her pussy.
She returned after a while, climbed back into bed, and snuggled up. “I almost peed,” she said. “The shame if someone had seen me.” “What shame?” “A naked woman squatting to pee by the porch.” “But no one saw you.” “Thank goodness it’s early.”
The kids returned from summer camp. Things got a little more complicated, but we always found a place and time.
Anticipating our upcoming separation, Emily wrung every last drop of pleasure from me. All her fantasies, all her desires were fulfilled immediately and without question. Anywhere. Anytime. All her holes were at my disposal. Especially since for a few days, one of them was off-limits for purely physiological reasons. The other two more than made up for it.
The time to say goodbye came. The last night, we gave each other everything we had. When I was walking to the bus stop, I was a wreck. And Emily didn’t look much better.
“When will you come back, Jake?” “On the weekend.” “I’ll be waiting. I’m a shameless, insatiable creature, but I want you even now.” “Strange, but me too.”
As if by accident, she ran her hand over me and confirmed my words were true. “Should we pull over somewhere?” “It’s the middle of the day, people are around.” “What do people matter? It’s not like they’ve seen anything.”
And she did pull me into a hidden corner, quickly getting rid of her panties and getting on all fours. “What’s taking you so long?” “Come on!” “I can’t.” “Let’s try there.” “Where?” “In the ass! You’ll miss your bus.”
It went in fine, I came quickly. I’m sitting on the bus by the window. Emily waves her hand. “Come back, Jake! I’ll be waiting! I’ll get everything ready!” And only Emily and I knew what she meant by “everything ready” for my return.
