Different Perspectives Ch. 04

This is a series of exchanges written by an aunt and her eighteen year old nephew following them having sex. It looks at that incestuous relationship from both party's perspectives, examining their doubts and concerns and their pleasure and thrills.

It is a complicated story and will be told in numerous parts. It is obviously advisable to start at Part 1 and read through each part savouring how their relationship develops and changes. However, for those unwilling to go back, each part does stand alone.

*

"Yes, go and have a shower, in my bathroom, wrap a towel round you and come back here," I said rather authoritatively.

I needed to buy some time, get some space organise my thoughts. Seeing your awkward, nakedness had brought home to me the sheer enormity of what I was contemplating. Not just contemplating, though, it was also the enormity of what I had already done and was currently doing.

I have always enjoyed watching men undress. I, along with many others I imagine, love the feeling of being partially, or fully, dressed when my partner is naked. Why? I don't know for certain, a sort of power maybe, who knows? But it was exactly like that with you.

As you rather clumsily and shyly slid your pants down I was amazed, thrilled, surprised, excited, aroused, concerned and, I have to say, flattered to see that you were nearly erect again. Oh, the virility of youth, I thought as, momentarily all worries and concerns over being a forty three year old woman anticipating sex with an eighteen year old boy left me. For a fleeting time, we were just a man and woman, readying themselves to make love. But of course that couldn't be the case, really? You had no idea how to behave or conduct yourself with a woman. Why should you? That's what gaining experience is all about. But who, I suddenly wondered was really gaining the experience? You would certainly be learning about sex in general, but I would be gaining experience of two specific aspects of it: incest and fucking a kid. Bloody hell, that realisation hit me hard.

And then, yet another realisation hit me. I had started thinking rather lecherously about you; thinking in a similar way to those silly women at male stripper performances. I was beginning to see you as a sex object! Fuck, why? Brad Pitt, Eric Clapton sure, but an eighteen-year-old kid? Was I going fucking crazy?

When you had slid your boxers down and I saw your hard, your so hard and ready cock spring loose, my throat went dry and my heart started to pound. How I resisted falling to my knees, taking it in my hands and pulling it to my mouth to make oral love to, I just don't know. Then I stared at your whole body. It was so lithe and slender, it looked firm and taught, the skin was not loose, there was no flab. The image in my mind of my nakedness being squashed against you was a dauntingly exciting thought.

I ogled your pert bum as you walked across the room and up the stairs. That was like a peach. It wobbled a bit, but looked firm and I could almost feel its smooth roundness in my hands as I caressed and stroked its gorgeousness, particularly when lying under you, my legs wrapped round your waist, my hands reaching up for those perfect orbs.

I could only theorise about what was going through your mind and how confused you must be as you walked away from me towards my bedroom?

Alone, I was also confused. But that was par for the course. It had been since I had met you at the station when I was wearing that blue cardi. It was when I saw that familiar glancing at the swell of my breasts, the look at the patch of skin between the bottom of the cardi and the top of my jeans and your eyes devouring me in such a typically male way, that the confusion had started. You were my nephew, my sister's son, a teenager, a young boy, but those initial glances told me that you were also a man.

It was then, compounded by so much that had happened since, that had created such a state of confusion in me. It was all that had gone on between us that had made me realise just how traumatic it was for a teenage male, a boy becoming a man. My heart had gone out to you as I had witnessed your cringing embarrassment as gradually your 'crime' at spying on me had unfolded. How you were so stressed and worried as slowly I had forced you to explain what you had seen, and God had that been a kick looking at you as you admitted you had seen me naked and masturbating.

It was all that; your teenage, post-puberty situation, your burgeoning manhood, your clear virility, your inquisitiveness and your, natural desire to experience more that had made my mind up. I would be an aunty like those in the jungle, I would teach you; I would help you, educate you and train you in the whiles of sexual behaviour. Yes, I had decided sitting on the patio sharing elicit cigarettes and wine with you, that I might let you have sex with me. Waiting in the lounge as you showered I made my mind up that I would let you have sex with you.

You were gone some time. I wondered if you had got cold feet or, maybe, you had cum again. Young boys do such odd things, I thought, as my eye caught a montage of photos of my family, Sara, Kevin and me. It made me shudder; I picked it up and turned it round. I could handle Kevin's eyes on me, but not Sara's, the thought of that almost made me stop what I was doing. The sight, though, of you coming down the stairs, wrapped in a large, fluffy, dark blue towel cast all such considerations away. I was mentally back to where I had been when I ogled your bum as you left the room, I wanted you.

"Hi," I said as you reached the bottom step.

"Hello," you replied, clearly nervous and apprehensive, but also eager and anticipatory of what might happen.

You walked towards me and stopped a few feet away.

"Was that good, the shower?"

"Yes it was lovely; you have an amazing shower and bathroom."

I guessed that there was a hidden meaning there and I smiled. "Yes it is a large shower and the shower head is massive isn't it?"

"I have never been in one with such a large head and one so powerful, or one with so much room."

"It's huge isn't it?"

I smiled again as we chatted away about my shower, both of us acutely aware of the sexual and taboo undertones between us.

"But then you knew that didn't you Matt?"

At first I wished I hadn't brought that up again, but your smile and the way you looked me in the eye made it alright.

"Yes Cat, I had seen it hadn't I? Sorry again."

"No need Matt, we have sorted that, gone past it and are moving on."

"Are we? Have we?" You asked, probably not sure what I meant.

"Yes Matt," I said quietly. "Don't you think so?"

"Yes, yes we have aunt, er Cat, I am sorry."

"About what?"

"You know, earlier on the patio."

"There's no need, it doesn't matter." I said rather thoughtlessly.

"It does. It does matter," you said sharply. "It matters a lot."

"Ok Matt, I know what you mean."

"No you don't you, can't know. You can't know how daft and childish I feel. "You're a girl, not a boy."

"Hardly a girl Matt, but thanks all the same," I said as I moved closer to you and put both my hands on your shoulders. I looked into your eyes, smiled, caringly and whispered.

"Matt, it happens to all men, now and then."

"Does it? Really?"

"Yes, men get excited very easily and then that happens, your uncle Kevin did at times."

"Did he really?"

"Yes he did, but you see Matt, a woman takes it as a compliment, not an insult."

"How?"

"Well it means we arouse and excite our man doesn't it?"

"Oh I see, I hadn't thought of it like that," you replied not moving away as I softly caressed the bare skin of your shoulders.

"And that's what happened to us Matt; I just got you a little too excited."

"Yes, I guess so."

"And I told you, didn't I"?

"What? What did you tell me Cat?"

"That it didn't matter and you would be ok next time. I said that on the patio didn't I?"

"Yes, yes you did."

"I told you that when you were holding my breast, didn't I?"

"Yes you did."

"And did you enjoy that Matt?"

"Oh God yes."

"Was mine the first breast you have touched?"

"Properly yes. I have titted up a few girls, but their's were so small in comparison to yours."

I moved away so that we were a few paces apart.

"And do you like large boobs Matt?"

"Oh yes," you said, moving a little to relieve the pressure on your growing erection under the towel.

"So you like mine do you?" I asked.

I suddenly felt acutely aware that you were as good as naked and I was fully dressed. Whilst I found that exciting, I realised it was unfair on you, it would make you even more nervous than thinking that I was about to fuck you would. Also, I now wanted to be naked, I wanted to show you my body; I wanted to flaunt my nudity at you and, hopefully gain your approval. My fingers fumbled at the top button of the black silk blouse.

"Yes Cat, yes, they are marvellous," you gasped, your eyes not leaving my fingers for one second as they undid the second and third buttons.

I knew this was crazy. I knew it was outrageous, dangerous, forbidden really and taboo. I was aware that I was pushing all the boundaries of my womanly sexual desires way beyond where they had been before. I was on the edge, maybe topping over it, perhaps straying too far, but I could no more have stopped than I could have jumped into the Thames and swam it.

As the final button came undone I said huskily.

"Do you want to see my breasts Matt?"

****

It felt so surreal, standing there in front of you; less than 3 feet away, the soft, blue bath towel wrapped around my waist, my chest, torso and hair still slightly damp, the latter unkempt and moulded to my scalp.

I knew the thickening outline of my cock was easily visible to you, but somehow and for some odd, yet truly wonderful reason, I didn't care; it didn't seem to matter any more. We had crossed that bridge yet there were others looming, ones with an even greater significance. Besides, my cock had become hard and erect in front of you so many times in the last few hours I could hardly claim to have any control over it so I thought, 'Fuck it.'

With all that had gone on, I could only put single dimensional thoughts together. I guess it was the hormones coursing through me, filling me with an all consuming lust, a lust that was tempered only by my inexperience and excitement of the unknown. If I could have looked at it objectively as it was happening I would suggest that the male species are driven by the here and now sexually, with a single purpose desire to satiate their lust, right now. I knew that I fitted that description, but didn't really know how to achieve the latter when it came to being with a woman. And what I wanted most, even through the fog of my lust, was to learn how to satisfy a woman. The problem my juvenile analysis had identified was that the female species did not have anywhere near the here and now needs that we did. Fuck it, that caused a right conundrum, a Catch 22 I guess and maybe was the biggest single issue between the genders. Boy I was becoming a bloody sexologist and hadn't even lost my fucking virginity.

A woman's orgasm fascinated me. I didn't know how it worked or that much about it really, other than what I read in smutty books and saw on porn movies, but they didn't seem natural. Now, though, unlike all my mates, I had seen a grown up, mature, sexually aware woman have one. And not only had I seen her have a climax, but had seen her bring it on. Wow what a fucking blast that was too. Seeing you taken totally over the edge by your fingers in the shower, a pleasure so deep and out of control; I wanted to be able to do that to a woman, but not any woman. I wanted to do that to you.

Was it a sense of power? An ability to give you something? Who really knows and who really cares? Probably both but that's what I wanted to do. Besides, these were pretty much subconscious thoughts as I watched mesmerised, your fingers unbuttoning your blouse.

My mouth was dry. I seemed to be pulling in great lung-fulls of air as the black silk slowly parted exposing more of the smooth creamy skin above the now visible black and pink, or was, what I thought was pink, your flesh, striped outline of your bra. The deep valley between your tits, your cleavage, what a fucking mesmerising term for that crease between two such gorgeous orbs, drawing my eyes, causing me to stare unashamedly. As more became exposed I felt giddiness, my senses and perception had narrowed, narrowed to your fingers on their slow journey along the buttons of your soft silky black blouse. And narrowed further now, to those two magnificent globes of flesh encased in the delicate, erotic extremes of your bra. My God what a turn on are women's bras, well not just bras their panties as well. The times I have rubbed mum's pants all over my cock and balls as I prepare to wank.

My cock had made an embarrassing tent in the towel leaving no doubts about my state of arousal, only this time my balls felt tighter; cumming twice already had taken the edge off my previous over excited state. I didn't realise my left hand had absent-mindedly found its way to the protrusion of the towel; my mind hadn't registered that I was lightly gripping and releasing my cock. I didn't even see your eyes drop to it for I was so engrossed in your top half and what you were revealing to me.

I had never seen a strip tease so I didn't know whether this counted. What I did know was that what you were doing was so fucking sexy and yet so "gently womanly" and erotic that it could only happen with a mature and sexually confident older woman, like you.

The last button came undone and the edges of your blouse swung away showing a strip of soft skin above the bra plunging into it then the bra giving way to the smooth soft skin of your tummy before it reached the waist band of your trousers. The edges of your blouse rested on the full swell of your breasts, nearly covering your nipples and tits in an almost teasing way. A couple of inches of movement away from each other and the material would move and would let me see your nipples through the sheerness of the material.

"Do you want to see my breasts Matt?" You asked, posing to me the most exciting question I had ever imagined, let alone heard. 'She's asking if I want to see her tits,' my mind registered with difficulty. What a fucking ridiculous question to ask a young bloke, a randy little sod, a cocky, sexually aware, but naïve sexual virgin.

I couldn't speak, I was tongue tied, i was trembling, I was fixated and was just trying to breath! I felt hot, dizzy and excited. I just stared. 'Of course I want to see your fucking tits, what do you think I am a bloody eunuch?' I was thinking.

I saw a smile, maybe of approval spread across your lips, a smile that showed everything was ok, a smile that showed you were pleased with the effect you were having on me. What I didn't know was that you were equally pleased with the effect I was having on you.

"Matt, do you?" You asked again then pausing as if thinking you went on. "Tell you what, don't speak, just nod"

Almost automatically my head raised and lowered itself in a gormless movement as I watched you part the material slowly.

"Do you like what you see? Remember, just nod"

****

At last, the guilt and concern went away. The worry and trepidation vanished. We were no longer a teenage boy and a mature woman, no longer were we sexual strangers and no longer were you my nephew and me your aunt. No now, it was just you and me, a man and a woman, two people, a couple who were rapidly moving towards becoming lovers.

You had stopped being the clumsy, awkward, scared boy. You were acting more the part of the alpha male, the aroused male, the rampant and ready male. As your erection grew and clearly manifested itself beneath the towel, you touched yourself, you rubbed your erection. Although, I knew you could not be really assured and as sexually relaxed as, say, Kevin would have been in such a situation that was a gesture of innate sexual self-confidence. It indicated to me that soon you would be comfortable with your nudity and confident of your sexuality; I dreaded that time.

That gesture, that unconscious probably, movement of you touching yourself through the towel, when witnessed by an excited, yet slightly concerned and confused female like me, was extraordinarily horny. It made me feel better, it relaxed me, it excited and it gave me the needed confidence to undo the last button, remove my blouse and whisper.

"Do you like what you see? Remember, you just have to nod, not speak."

I know that I have become a reluctant and rather intrepid exhibitionist. It started when my ex photographed me to 'spice up our failing marriage.' I hated it at first, but then fell in love with the camera and would regular fuck the lens that zeroed in on me.

It continued when I had my six-month affair with David, probably the real love of my life. We did not have the luxury of being easily able to use our own homes, I mean bringing a man or woman to your house after dog walking on a regular basis is likely to raise some eyebrows, isn't it?

Of course, we had the delights of afternoon sex in hotels from time to time, but the expense was high. So, as it was a summer affair, our cars and the open air were often our boudoir, leaning back against oak trees in the nearby forest our bed and grassy places near lakes our mating places. Yes, we had sex in public places, we fucked where we could get caught and we loved it.

It has developed to this day when now I see my ex. We don't go to each others homes and we don't' have penetrative sex, but we do meet in cars and we do have hand and oral sex, and we do often get naked on the back seat.

So standing before you with my blouse off and, for some reason, draped over my shoulder I was flooded with a mix of feelings as I watched you slowly do as I had said.

You nodded.

As I exhibited them to you I was flooded with a cocktail of emotions. Mainly apprehension that you would find my oversized, slightly droopy breasts a turn-off; shyness at revealing them to you for the first time; anticipation as I watched your eyes widen and then roam over my chest and the excitement that a woman gains when offering her breasts to any lover.

I was inviting your examination of one of my most intimately womanly places. I was offering you the chance to review a part of me that would be critical to our future love-making, I was saying they were yours to adore and anoint, if your lack of experience and inevitable attraction to more youthful bodies, did not put you off.

My sexual confidence was shaken by Kevin's attraction to younger women, by his, at least partial, rejection of my rounded, full figure and his enjoyment of the more stick-like, svelte bodies of the young. That deterred me from accepting a number of offers from young men, early-thirties and lower, which I received after my divorce; my body cried out to accept them and experience the firmness and sheer energy of youth, but my mind recalled Kevin's desire for the same with his women. So I was scared to accept the advances of younger guys. But, and this was one of the most amazing aspects of this incredible afternoon, you were restoring my confidence in myself and my body.

"Come closer Matt," I whispered, looking straight into your eyes.

I still saw apprehension, fear almost, but now there was also desire and lust; everything was beginning to work.

You shuffled forward the towel ballooning out pushed there by the strength and sheer hardness of your erection. I shuddered inside at the thought of all that untamed, totally natural, youthful power, stamina and energy.

"I want to teach you Matt, you realise that don't you?"