Aunt Suzanne's Return Ch. 01

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Paul reconnects with the aunt who seduced him.
6.3k words
4.62
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 04/07/2015
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fuzzyb2
fuzzyb2
507 Followers

While this story can stand alone, it does reintroduce my aunt who had seduced me while I was still in university and had given me an amazing gift of sexual confidence. She returns for a boost of her own in this story.

*****

I had been out of university for almost two years when I got a surprising phone call from a woman I had been sure would never again be in touch. It had been at least three years since we had talked, or more accurately, fucked each other's brains out. It was my aunt Suzanne and I was both surprised and pleased she was in touch again.

When Suzanne had last parted from me she had made it clear she had loved our time together, but that it would not happen again and I needed to respect her desire for secrecy — she was my aunt for God's sakes! I had no problem keeping that promise and no one in our family ever discovered the tryst we had enjoyed while I was still at university. That is, no one but my other aunt (her sister) and her niece... but no one else, apparently. Since I had bedded all three, I believed that we were the only ones who knew the truth.

But why was Suzanne getting back in touch? I was very curious, especially after her big show of 'never again' to me.

She called me from her home in Eastern Canada to tell me she was coming out west again, this time specifically to see me; she wouldn't even be telling my mother or family of the trip. That made me wonder, and even to worry a bit about what was going on. I would have almost a week to wait as she was arriving the following Thursday and I was expected to pick her up at the airport.

No matter how much I tried to tease out reasons for her visit I failed and was left with an uncomfortable feeling more than any anticipation. Sure, she had seduced me completely and introduced me to sexual activity I only fantasied about prior to Suzanne. For example, she'd made a connection with an older couple that took us home for a night of amazing sex. To this day I can remember the luxury of Eva's body, it's lovely chocolate subtlety and her amazing legs and bust. I would never have me Eva and her husband Ray were it not for my aunt Suzanne.

But why was she coming back? What was going on?

It was a very long week anticipating Suzanne's arrival but here I was, finally, waiting for her flight to come in. Naturally, it was delayed. Almost two hours. I was not having a very good time of it but whatever scenario I was coming up with ended with disappointment or a problem. By the time I was able to put it out of my mind, the flight's arrival was announced and before I could say 'finally,' there she was coming into the arrivals area: my aunt Suzanne.

If I had considered Suzanne good looking when we had been intimate, I couldn't believe that she actually looked even better now. I bet it had something to do with my own maturity and experience, or maybe she was taking better care of herself than I could have imagined. She looked amazing.

Despite my appreciation of this gorgeous woman approaching me in the terminal, I played it cool. After all, I had no idea what to expect.

Suzanne sighted me from almost the full width of the arrivals and luggage area and she raised a hand to wave for me to notice. She needn't have bothered as I had identified her the moment she'd breached the doors. I really enjoyed watching her walk towards me, poised, long, fit legs on very high heels. She wore a skirt that was a practical length but there was still plenty of leg to enjoy.

I stayed in my spot until she was almost in front of me, then I took the final few steps to greet her. I was unsure what to do so started to offer her a little hug. She threw herself into my arms, pressing herself hard against me and planting a hot, moist kiss on my lips.'

"I missed you, Paul."

"I missed you, too, Suzanne." I was dying to add, 'but what brings you out here after you said we wouldn't see each other?' But I didn't.

"I didn't bother reserving a hotel room as I was hoping I could stay with you if you have a spare room. I hope you don't think me presumptuous."

"You are always welcome — you're family." I said that with a little smile in my voice hoping she would understand my subliminal hint to our past illicit behaviour.

I almost asked, but held off, thinking that Suzanne would explain things when she was ready.

"Can we go home first? I will unpack and I would kill for a shower," she said.

"As you wish. Maybe we can go out for dinner afterwards... if you're hungry," I proposed.

"That would be perfect, but first, I need to change and wash up." There she was again with the shower reference. I wondered if she remembered out little experience in my dorm's shower room and decided that she might, but it would have been far more important to me.

I helped Suzanne with her bag and led her up the stairs to my second floor apartment. I was renting the top floor of a historic old house that had been renovated but which maintained all the design and look of the original.

I let her lead the way, just being a gentleman of course. Or maybe it was because I knew what she would look like from behind. I was not disappointed and I am pretty sure Suzanne took her time just for me. Or maybe she was just tired after the long flight.

I let my aunt into my apartment and led her to my guest bedroom. It was sparingly furnished but sufficiently historic to draw the sound of appreciation from my guest. "This is the guest room? Wow! I love it already."

"I'll show you the rest of the place after you get changed and ready, if that's okay."

Like many homes from this period, I was lucky to have even one full bathroom; there was no ensuite for me and certainly none for the guest room. That said, the path from bedroom to washroom along the hall was not really visible from the living room or kitchen so I didn't see Suzanne make her way there.

I did see her coming out, however, and though there was little showing, she looked pretty good bundled up in my short, heavy robe that usually hangs on the bathroom door. She padded along the glossy hardwood floor in her bare feet all the way to her room. She did not see me following her with my eyes for every step, but I think she knew.

It was almost an hour before I heard the door of her room open. I had been watching a basketball game on television but I turned at the sound. The game lost all interest for me in a flash.

Suzanne had certainly been good looking and had a good body three years past, but this was a brand new woman, I thought. She had lost maybe 10 or 15 pounds but they had come off her hips and butt, not her bust. She was now no more than 105 pounds, about five-foot-five and looked absolutely fit. This was a woman who had been perfect before, but she was more perfect, if that's even something you can say.

Suzanne was wearing serious heels which pushed up her buttocks and thrust her chest forward just so. She was wearing sheer stockings with little flecks of silver that highlighted her lovely legs. Better than that, she was wearing a very, very short skirt that would not have been out of place on an 18-year-old; she did it justice.

Her breasts were another thing of beauty. She was still about a heavy B-cup and her tight-fitting, fuzzy sweater showed plenty of cleavage, something she knew I appreciated, especially that now I was giving her the full-on elevator gaze: from nicely coiffed head to dramatically pointed toe. Then I took another long look all the way back up.

"It seems that you have not changed, Paul. You still appreciate a nice bust."

"You have changed, Suzanne, but in all the right places," I replied. She said no more.

We headed back downstairs to the car where I helped her get seated. I didn't have a fancy car but it was almost new and fully paid for which meant I could afford nice dinners and vacations.

We barely spoke all the way to the restaurant but not for any reason in particular. It was clear she was comfortable with me, as I was with her. We were seated in the restaurant and ordering wine before she started talking.

"Your uncle left me, Paul."

I know my jaw dropped because I could feel it. Before I had recovered I was already running scenarios about what was coming up, some of which were quite bizarre. Did she want to come live with me? was one of the odder ones. Had he found out about our time together? That one was much higher up the probability scale.

"I'm so sorry, Suzanne," I said, ever the caring gentleman. "What happened?"

"I don't want to burden you with all this, but frankly, I think you're a good person to discuss this with."

"What do you mean?" I was still doing scenarios, none of them very positive.

"Well, you know me pretty well I think, and you're far enough outside the circle of my friends and immediate family that you will have a better perspective."

"Go on..."

Suzanne went on to tell me that about six months after she had gone back home from visiting me, her husband had started to get suspicious. He accused her at first gently, then more harshly, of having an affair, of cheating on him.

"He accused me of screwing around, and I wasn't."

It seems that one of his friends had seen her in a bar across town nuzzling with another man, a much younger one, he told my uncle. But despite the certainty of the friend, it was a mistaken identity that my aunt eventually proved by providing, as she said, 'an alibi' that was solid. On the night in question, she had been with his mother at a canasta tournament (I don't even know what canasta is!)

Eventually, he relented and accepted that his friend had been wrong, but he couldn't let go of the possibility. He watched her every move, would show up at weird times of the day for the oddest reason, and he quizzed her on where she was going and with whom and...

"It was never-ending," said Suzanne. "This went on for many weeks until I confronted him with his behaviour, telling him that I was fed up and he should stop it — or else!"

"Or else?"

"I left that open to his imagination, but he took me seriously and even agreed to go to a marriage counsellor with me. I actually had to talk him out of going to see our priest for the counselling if you can believe it."

"How did that work out? Not so good seeing as he left you," I surmised.

"No. It went really well and after a handful of sessions we were closer again and he seemed to be off the suspicion wagon. Then I found out he had been getting one of his other friends to follow me around town and..." she broke off.

I stayed silent as I realized this was a difficult moment. She would continue when she was ready.

"This friend of his, Alex, saw something that he told your uncle about."

"Oh? It sounds a little less innocent, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Can you believe it was the very, very first time I had even come close to straying. I was having a coffee with a fellow I used to work with. I knew he'd had a crush on my all the time we worked together so it was sweet to find out he still found me attractive. By now your uncle and I had let our sex life slip to a couple of times a month and you know I can't live on that."

I am a gentleman: "I could see that. What happened then?"

"I don't know what I was doing, but I let him put his hand on my thigh and I put my hand over his. I think I was trying to slow him down, but I was not really aware of what was really going on. Before I realized it, he had a hand under my skirt and was almost touching my pussy. That's when I got caught. I was not doing anything, but this friend of your uncle's saw the hand and made the assumption I was having an affair."

"But you weren't, were you?"

"Not a chance. What your uncle's friend did not see was me slapping his hand away and me leaving in a bit of a huff after that. I was certainly not going to let him get any closer. I did not want to have an affair under any circumstance."

"But uncle Edward did not hear it that way, did he?"

"By the time I came home, he had already made the decision he must have been holding back for a long time. He told me very bluntly that I was a 'slut' and 'how could I be having an affair with such a young man' and a lot more. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get him to listen to the truth. And then he 'closed the door' on us, grabbed a suitcase he'd packed while waiting for me to come home and stormed out. That was it."

"That's sad. When was this?"

"We've been split for almost a year and it's not going to get better. I got served with divorce papers a week ago," she trailed off.

"Is that when you called me," I asked.

"Yes. The same afternoon in fact. I felt a need to get away and to see someone who cared about me, someone who could give me a fresh perspective."

I admit to being surprised at her fondness for me, and her belief that it was mutual. It was, of course, but I didn't realize she thought that way. Then again, I was absolutely not looking for anything more than friendship and 'benefits' so I decided to ask.

"What can I do for you, Suzanne? You know I'm here to support you and ready with both ears, but what's your expectation?"

Fortunately Suzanne understood my meaning and my tone and understood that I wasn't any sort of 'solution' for her, but we could certainly have some fun and friendship even now, three years later.

We chatted about myriad subjects. Suzanne was well-informed, intelligent and did not hesitate to have her own opinions. We had fun. Then the waiter arrived with our desserts and coffees and she nudged me saying, "you dropped this." The waiter noticed. And then I realized it was not my napkin she had dropped by my plate — it was a pair of delicate soft pink panties.

Before I figured what had happened, the waiter was walking away — I could see him shaking his head, probably laughing at me, maybe doubting what he'd seen.

My face turned beet red, as Suzanne described it later, but I regained some control and picked up the small piece of lace. I brought it to my nose and took a good whiff; her scent was clearly present: it was all pussy with a side of soft perfume.

"Oh, my," I said to Suzanne.

"You like them? I wasn't sure if I should just give them to you or wait for you to take them off yourself."

"Where you just wearing these?" but it was obvious she had been.

"I slipped them off while you were busy with ordering dessert and coffee, didn't you notice?"

I took another long sniff and thanked her for the gift which I then slipped into my pocket. "Do you really want to finish dessert?" I asked.

"Of course. These pastries look to die for and it would be a waste not to enjoy them."

I could feel my cock thickening first from the panties and her fragrance, then from the anticipation that I would soon be between her lovely thighs.

I played the grownup, eating my dessert, enjoying the Spanish coffee and making more small talk with my aunt, but below the table, I had a hand sliding up Suzanne's firm thigh, making its way towards her now bare pussy. And she actually stopped me, but only on the first try. I think the anticipation was starting to affect her as well.

She was taking small bites of her dessert but whenever I would brush against her clitoris she'd gasp and freeze, fork in the air. Then I would move off the trigger and she would continue all the while trying to pretend it wasn't affecting her. But I knew better.

By the time we had finished eating, I had slipped a finger into her pussy and pulled it out to suck on as she pretended again to be unaffected, but her eyes were a bit glazed over so I knew she was faking disinterest. "I think we need to get going," said Suzanne, hoarsely. She stood up but I hesitated not quite willing to show off the tenting in my pants. She glanced down and smiled a wicked smile and said, "I'm going to freshen up while you lose a bit of interest. I will meet you at the door on the way out."

My thoughts were completely salacious making my erection more persistent than I wished, but eventually (I started to imagine hockey fights and other mayhem which helped) I was able to rise and make my way to the door. Suzanne was already there patiently waiting for me. "What took you so long?" But she just smiled knowingly at my crotch.

She took my arm as we left the restaurant. It was dark and there was little street lighting, just the one standard in the parking where we'd left the car. I was heading there but we didn't make it. Instead, Suzanne pulled on my arm and led me quickly to a spot against the building mostly out of sight of people walking through the parking lot, but not completely. She was quick to tell me what she needed: "I want your cock inside me, Paul, and now!"

I pushed her back against the brick of the building as I whipped my cock out of my pants. I ready, a simple feat going back to the lust I felt when she gave me her panties. She lifted her short skirt to expose her bareness to me as I lifted her up onto my throbbing cock which slid smoothly between the thickened lips of her cunt until I was buried deep inside her. I held her there in my arms before I started to fuck her. Hard. There was no lead-up, gentle cuddling. Just strong, hard fucking, exactly as she needed it.

I heard her moan with lust as she enjoyed my thrusting and gave me back as much as she was getting. Her voice was hoarse again as she told me "I haven't been fucked in almost seven months, Paul. Thank you. Thank you."

That only made me want to make her enjoy the moment more, but unfortunately, I was soon ready to give her my load of sperm, much earlier than I wanted. She was fine with that, telling me to "give me your come, young man. Shoot it hard into me."

That was enough to push me over the edge and I made one hard, final thrust to bury my rock hard cock as deep as I could reach and I came, and came. Suzanne didn't really come while we were fucking, but she got so close as I was finishing up and she whimpered about being 'so close.'

I told her, "don't worry. We'll make sure you get some of your own when we get home." She knew I meant it.

-

We were going up the stairs much as we had earlier in the day with Suzanne ahead of me, of course. I knew she was working to entice me further, getting me ready for the next phase of my welcoming her back. I watched her closely, enjoying her lean legs and great ass even more than before because the short skirt let me see so much more. And no panties. Suzanne made a great show of climbing the stairs. I could see all the way up her legs up to her ass cheeks, and better yet, her perfect clam. About halfway up the stairs and well within sight of the downstairs neighbour's door Suzanne stopped to adjust her shoe — yea, right — and in doing so, gave me a completely unobstructed view of everything. I was certainly enjoying the show then we heard the front door open and we raced up the stairs. It wasn't quite time for that amount of exhibitionism.

I was still closing the door while Suzanne was on her knees ripping open my pants to get at my growing cock. She yanked them down along with my shorts and virtually swallowed me in one smooth motion. She was bobbing her head on my meat as I was still stripping off my shirt and kicking off my shoes.

I let her suck me right there at the door. Her cock-sucking was rigorous and as enthusiastic as I have ever experienced. Fortunately, my ball sac had recently been drained so that I had no problem holding off my orgasm. I just leaned against the door, enjoying her talents. I was even thinking that she'd never been this good before. And I had not forgotten that this was my aunt. Of course, I'd fucked her many times already, but only over the period of about four days; this was already better.

After a long time, Suzanne decided that we needed to move out of the hall. She grabbed me by the cock and led me into the apartment, right to the kitchen where she slipped off her fuzzy sweater to reveal the bra to match the underwear I already had in my pocket. Her breasts were cupped just right to show them off to perfect advantage. There was a narrow valley between them, one that was going to see some action soon. Suzanne didn't remove the bra I suspect she knew she looked hotter with it on. There was an urgency in her movements as she unzipped her skirt and let it fall off her hips to the floor.

fuzzyb2
fuzzyb2
507 Followers
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