He 'Seams' Such A Good Boy Boy!

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A nephews awakening at the hands of his Aunt.
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Quillman
Quillman
53 Followers

The theme of this story is similar to those that I have posted before. If you enjoyed them; you will like this! This story has been especially commissioned for a fascinating lady; Auntie Barbara, of course!

He 'seams' such a good boy!

A strange excitement ran through my body as, with trembling hands, as I handed the sealed white envelope over to Aunt Barbara. Somehow I knew that its contents would not bode well for me, but little did I know that by the end of the afternoon my life would have turned an irreversible corner.

Only two months earlier at the age of 18 I had been sent to live with my Aunt Barbara. The year was 1959 and my parents were living overseas as my father was a civil servant in the colonial office. I had been sent to school back in England, and apart from the occasional trip to visit my parents, most of my holidays had been spent with my Aunt Barbara. I enjoyed her company immensely, and she seemed to take a pleasure in teaching, and encouraging me to develop into a respectable and refined young man.

Soon I would receive my 'call up' papers for National Service, but in the meantime Aunt Barbara had taken me under her wing, and had secured for me an administrative post with a business colleague of hers known as Emma.

If all this sounds somewhat too refined, then I hope I can reassure you that I was also a healthy red blooded young man, with an overabundance of those oh so naughty thoughts. Being placed with my Aunt Barbara was to put it frankly a dream come true!

To put it succinctly, Aunt Barbara was the type of women who would put most of today's so called 'girls' to shame. She exuded feminine sensuality, but this had never been anything other than discreet and playful. I had known her of course since childhood, and as the years had passed, and nature took its course, I had commensurately viewed her in a totally different light!

Now in her mid forties she stood at about 5'5", slim and always perfect poised and balanced. Invariably she would be wearing a pair of the highest heels, and I my tummy would always churn with excitement at hearing her slow deliberate walk across a wooden floor. Aunt Barbara had a definite pout to her full lips, her skin peach like and so soft. Unlike so many women, she seemed to understand what men liked and admired in a lady, and consequently used her feminine charms to full effect. Men adored her.

Choosing her daily shoes had always been a wonderful game, and kneeling before her I would be allowed to help slip her shoes onto her very sensitive and ticklish feet. The icing on the cake had always been my Aunt's penchant for fully fashioned sheer seamed stockings which she wore on a daily basis, and it was my privilege to check the seams were perfectly straight. They invariably were, but the chance to run my hands across my Aunts smooth stockinged legs was, of course, too good to miss.

Aunt Barbara often wore white blouses, with a tight fitting pencil skirt which showed her figure to full effect. This was more often than not topped with a wide fitting belt. She looked immaculate.

I had been working at Emma's office for the last six weeks. Emma was a professional business lady and clearly a close friend of my Aunt. They were not dissimilar in many respects, and shared a sense of humour as well as dress sense. It had been evident that Emma had lived a more restrained and repressed life, but under my Aunts influence she had blossomed into a fun loving lady herself.

I enjoyed working for her, and particular being at my desk when she took a phone call. On these occasions Emma had the habit of leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed and dangling a high heel from her elegant foot. This captivated me, and on more than one occasion I had been caught looking. Indeed I was under the impression that recently Emma had deliberately dangled her shoe to confirm for herself the effect this would have. To say I squirmed would be to put it mildly, my blushing face told it all, and Emma would look away with a satisfying grin.

At 4.50 on this particular Friday afternoon she had handed me a white sealed envelope.

'You may go now' she had instructed,

'Give your Aunt my regards, and enjoy your weekend.'

There was something in her tone of voice, something different that I could not identify, other than a hint of wickedness.

'Thank you Miss Emma,' I replied before quickly leaping up on the pretext of filing a document, but really so that I could watch her long legs in heels clicking down the corridor as she made her way to her sports car, no doubt to enjoy her own weekend of fun.

I arrived home to find my Aunt Barbara looking as beautiful as ever. She had been on a lunch date and was still wearing a white summer dress with red polka dots. As I entered the lounge she was sitting on the settee, legs crossed with her left shoe dangling from her stockinged foot. I noticed that her foot started to jiggle very softly as if to accentuate what was happening. Her fingers gently toyed with a string of pearls at her neck whilst she held the phone in her other hand sharing a joke with the caller, no doubt her lunch date.

I made tea and returned with the tray, pouring my Aunt her cup and ensuring that nothing was spilt in the saucer. She ended her call and accepted the tea gracefully.

'So, how was your day?' she enquired.

I outlined the rather tedious events of the office, well aware of the pulsing lecherous thoughts that had occupied most of my time, before remembering the letter I had been given.

'Oh, Emma said to give you this.' I fumbled for the letter that was inside my jacket pocket and handed it to my Aunt. Something about handing the letter over, combined with the look Emma had given me suggested that all was not well.

The letter was opened slowly and deliberately. She read silently, and I took this time to admire the sheen of her stockings, and those gorgeous little 'creases' that occurred at the bend of her knee and ankle. I sighed inwardly and allowed my self the thought of softly and slowly kissing those legs.

Aunt Barbara placed the letter beside her on the settee and peered at me over the top of her glasses. She looked quite stern; I felt my tummy begin to churn, had she caught me looking at her legs? I felt myself blush.

Standing up, Aunt Barbara placed both hand together gently in front of her. I knew this gesture; it always came before a telling off.

'You may well blush dear boy,' she stated before picking up the letter again. By this time I too had stood up, but my Aunt immediately pointed to the floor and without a second thought I found myself kneeling before her with my head bowed. My Aunt began reading.

Dear Barbara,

Timothy is such a keen worker, and very helpful around the office. However, I must draw to your attention his behaviour and in particular his desire to look up my skirt and stare at my legs and feet. It is quite flattering of course coming from a man so young, but it does need tempering. I'm sure that you can take him in hand and administer some, shall we say. 'Corrective measures'.

Emma.

My face was the colour of beetroot, I had been caught. My mouth went dry, my body racked with embarrassment. I looked up at my Aunt who ran her fingers through my hair.

'Well now Timothy, we can't have that now can we?'

'No Auntie' I managed to whisper through my dry mouth.

'What should I do with you?'

Images of here phoning my parents raced through my thoughts

'Oh God Auntie please don't tell, I'll do anything.'

'I'm sure you will, you want to be a good boy don't you?'

I felt like I was five years old, and averting my eyes to the floor saw just inches from my face Aunties stockinged foot in high heels. I knew my place and dropped my head so as to softly and slowly kiss the top of her foot, momentarily lost in my own fantasy. My Aunts voice brought me back to the real world.

'That's a good boy, and don't think I haven't noticed you looking at me too. Is there anything else you want to confess?'

It came out, blurted out; I had taken sneaky looks at her whilst she had been dressing in her room, I had fondled her stockings and underwear, I had succumbed to naughty thoughts at night, played with myself in the shower ...' All the while Aunt stroked my hair, encouraging me to confess. I felt drained, exhausted, exposed and vulnerable.

'Well now darling boy,' she chirped in her best schoolmistress voice,

'You have been a good boy for confessing, but there must be punishment. Off to the shower I think.' With that she strutted past me towards the large open plan bathroom than was next to the guestroom. I hastily followed, painfully aware of the bulge in my trousers.

Following Aunt Barbara my eyes fixed on her tight little bottom and its exquisite wriggle in her close fitting dress. It seemed to pain my already embarrassing state of arousal even more. At the entrance to the shower room she stopped and turned.

'Well, let's get this over with shall we?' The question was of course rhetorical.

'Come along trousers off.' She folded her arms and waited.

I felt my face suffuse and became very aware of a pulsating feeling in the side of my neck. My heart was beating like a drum. I began to undress, slowly and clumsily given how my body was now shaking uncontrollably. The gentle tap of Aunt Barbara's foot on the tiled floor was a sure indicator of her impatience.

I hurriedly removed the rest of my clothes painfully aware of my erection which I moved to cover with my hands.

My Aunt's eyes gave me a quick up and down, followed by a disapproving 'Hmmm' as she summoned me into the shower with a pointed red finger nail.

The shower room was quite wide and I was instructed to stand with my arms and legs spread eagled touching both side walls. To say I was exposed would be an understatement. As if ignoring me, Aunt Barbara turned on the shower and adjusted the water to body temperature and light pressure. When she was happy with this she took a large bar of soap and lathered her hands. Standing in front of me she then trickled the shower softly and slowly up the inside of my thigh. I caught my breath and squirmed, the sensation was electric.

It was as if my Aunt had perfected the technique to one of erotic torture. Satisfied with my response, she smiled with a cruel wicked glint in her eye before doing the same on my other thigh. As I responded, so she took me in hand and began to gently glide her warm soapy fingers along the length of my shaft. I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven, but more was to come!

'Well now,' the voice was soft and sensuous,

'Let's wash away those naughty thoughts shall we?'

I didn't answer but felt the warm water trickle underneath my balls and gasped an uncontrolled 'Oh God' as the warm sensation now softly tickled. It felt as if a dozen feathers had captured and zoned in on every nerve ending. The shower spray was gently trailed forward and back and soon those gentle fingers were working the same methodical dance from the base of my cock to the tip. I dropped my head and noticed how spots of soapy foam had splashed onto my Aunts sheer stockings and across her feet. There was something so incredibly arousing about this sight that it took me over the edge; I was beyond the point of control. I bit my lip in a futile attempt to hold back, but my Aunt's skilled fingers recognised a man driven to the point of distraction and in three strokes she had me gushing uncontrollably into her warm wet hands.

My mind continued in a flurry of mixed and confused emotions as my Aunt gently milked the last drop from me. I stood exhausted, out of breath, totally exhilarated. I felt a soft kiss on the side of my cheek as I was handed a small hand towel.

'Now, be a good boy and dry Aunties legs.'

I dropped to my knees still trembling, and gently padded the wet soap from those gorgeous legs and heels. Having finished to Aunties satisfaction she then turned and I watched her still perfectly straight seams as she click clacked away into the lounge.

I felt a mixture of excitement and humiliation as I dried and dressed, how could I ever face her again. My mind was still buzzing and several minutes must have passed before I heard her calling me.

Entering the lounge, I received a gorgeous smile. Aunt Barbara was reclining on the sofa with her legs crossed. I felt instantly tongue tied and stammered out some incoherent words;

'Auntie I ... Oh God, I'm so sorry...please I...'

She smiled a put her finger to her lips as if to indicate me to be silent. I walked forward and knelt down in front of her. Auntie sat upright and placed her right foot on my thigh, I could feel the first stirring of excitement making it known to me again. I leaned forward gently kissing her knee, savouring the feel and sensation of nylon on my lips.

'You have learned your lesson, and Auntie is very pleased with you; Now come and show her just what a really good boy you can be'

She allowed her leg to fall to one side, and guided my head towards the inside of her sensuously stocking clad thigh. I kissed softly gently, and caught entirely in the spell of her feminine mystique.

That afternoon my relationship with my Aunt Barbara changed for ever. Under her expert tutelage I learned how to restrain my own urges, and how to pleasure a lady with touch and my tongue. I savoured the fragrance of her sex as my tongue gently tickled and lapped, bringing her to an intense and powerful orgasm as she pulled desperately and wantonly at my hair, using me for her own pleasure.

It was wonderful and so began my journey into adulthood, in adoration and awe at the captivating power of feminine and sensual women. All thanks to my gorgeous Auntie Barbara.

Quillman
Quillman
53 Followers
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9 Comments
MisterteaMisterteaabout 3 years ago

What in heaven's name is a "boy boy"?

AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Disapointing

WHY is this story and many others written as if the male is a 5 year old and not 18? At the 18 you indicate he is, where is the maturity to not act like a 5 year old? Is the story written from personal experience?

AnonymousAnonymousabout 16 years ago
Memories of Auntie Jayne

Evoked powerful memories of teenage fantasies about being taken in hand by 'Auntie Jayne' the UK Mature model of the 80's. Classy lady, always in stockings.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Learning

oh! memories of a lovely aunt. I was a year or two younger but she explained all to me that I needed to know and gave me a few similar treats. Keep up the good writing.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Nostalgic and enjoyable

This touched some raw nerves; and memories. Thank you!

Incidentally; the age for NS was reduced to 18 at the outbreak of WW11 and remained 18 after. From 1950 onwards NS was 2 years (increased from 18 months stipulated in 1948) so your facts would seem to be correct after all.

I recall gorgeous WRENS (female Royal Navy)in seamed black nylons .... Hurrah!

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