Thunder Threatens Ch. 01

An idea came to him and this time he DID act upon it. He wanted to make it obvious that he had seen her.

He made some coffee in the cafetiere. The water from the kettle was no longer very hot, but as she was asleep it hardly mattered. He put some cold water from the tap in as well, stirred it vigorously but quietly and poured it into a mug, adding a dash of milk. He crept back to where she was sitting asleep. He stared again at her small, bared breast and luscious nipple as he placed the coffee on the table next to her. However short a time she remained sleeping it would be cold when she woke up..

He stole back to the kitchen and returned with a tea towel. He draped it gently over her naked breast to cover it up and, smiling, stepped softly out of the room, holding his camera and tripod in one hand and rubbing his erection with the other. He headed upstairs, eager to upload his photos and examine them on his laptop - and to play with himself as he looked at them.

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Jo awoke gradually and yawned. She was drowsy and just a little inebriated. She recalled that she had been to a friend's party with Pete, her nephew. She glanced round the lounge and realised that he must now have gone to bed. She looked at the coffee table and saw the mug of coffee. She touched the side of the mug with her fingers. It was barely warm.

Then she noticed it. She wondered why on earth a tea towel was draped over her shoulder. She pulled it off. She looked down at herself. She felt suddenly cold although the air was, if anything, even more humid than it had been earlier in the evening.

As she tucked her naked breast back into her sun top she began to work out what must have happened. At some point after arriving home she must have exposed herself without realising. No doubt while she was asleep she had shuffled, her strap had slipped, her top had slid down, and one of her boobs had popped out! Pete - her own brother's son must have seen it - his aunt's entire, bare breast! And he must have covered her up for her modesty. She felt terrible – how embarrassed he must have been!

Guilt gripped her. Although he was twenty-one years old she felt as if she had corrupted her nephew. She admired his thoughtfulness in covering her over to avoid the temptation of looking at - IT. She told herself that many a young lad would just have stood staring at the sight. She felt a warm glow that he was not like that and had acted chivalrously towards her.

But even so, her nephew had seen her naked breast and her nipple! Jo cringed. She wondered how long he had looked before he had been able to tear his gaze away. He was only human, after all! She reminded herself of the way she had caught him looking at her sometimes – and of the warm and naughty feeling that his secretive, admiring glances had given her in return. She thought of the laughs they had shared during his stay, his thoughtfulness and kindness, his politeness, his helpfulness, and his compliments. She thought how good - and, to be honest, how erotic - it had been to have had a man in the house after such a long time.

She thought of the second night of his stay when they had sat together on the sofa drinking wine as they watched a movie. She recalled with pleasure and guilt the way their eyes had met as they watched it, the way they had interacted at this and that twist of the plot, and the good feeling that she had felt inside at having him physically close to her. Thank goodness he was going home tomorrow, she told herself, before one or other of them was tempted! She felt guilty again that without realising it she had paraded her naked breast to her brother's son. She was determined to say nothing, and was confident that he wouldn't, either.

She became conscious of the heavy, oppressive heat that enveloped her. As soon as she stood up she was conscious that her clothes were damp and sticking to her skin. She remembered that someone at the party had spoken of the need for a thunderstorm to freshen the air, and felt a knot of apprehension in her stomach at the prospect.

She went upstairs, still feeling a little fuzzy-headed. She went into the bathroom and when she came out she noticed that Pete's bedroom light was showing under his door. She knocked on it and wished him goodnight. He called goodnight back but his voice sounded a little strange. She shrugged her shoulders, went into her room and undressed.

She slipped on her cotton nightdress. It was blue-and-white striped and designed as a nightshirt, with buttons down the whole of the front. She liked to wear more glamorous nightwear usually – even though she had no partner at present it made her feel feminine – but tonight it was so hot and humid that she wanted something practical. The cotton would allow her skin to breathe and, besides, she could fasten as many or as few buttons as she liked.

She put out the light, pulled back the bedclothes and lay on the bed with just a couple of nightshirt buttons fastened and her thighs apart, trying to keep as cool as the stifling heat would allow. Maybe it was partly the alcohol and maybe it was partly the fact that her nephew was due to leave the next day and there would be no man in the house with her again that made her do it, almost subconsciously at first. Or perhaps it was the frustration of the sticky heat, the threat of a storm and her dread of it.

Maybe it was even the knowledge that her nephew had seen one of her breasts naked, and the guilt and forbidden pleasure that the knowledge gave her, that directed her fingers inside her nightshirt. With one hand she started to pleasure her breasts and stubby, tender nipples, the other snaked over her belly and through her dank, silky pubes to stroke, rub and then to probe herself...

Her mind strayed to John, her friend's husband, but soon her thoughts became confused and she began to imagine that the hands caressing her were those of her nephew. She tried to block them out and concentrated instead on the movements of her own hands and the sensations she was giving herself.

She did not guess that she had interrupted her nephew doing much the same thing when she bid him goodnight. Nor that as she now approached her orgasm, he had enjoyed his just moments before. She would never have imagined in her wildest dreams that, as he gritted his teeth and pumped himself harder, he had been staring at a slide-show on his laptop - a slideshow of secret photographs he had taken of her just a little earlier that evening! He had climaxed as he stared at a shot of his mouth pursed close to her breast and stud-like nipple, one looking up her skirt at her polka-dot panties, another of him standing behind her with his hands seemingly cupped over her breasts - his aunt's breasts...!

Pete gave one long last approving stare at the close up picture of her naked breast and puffy nipple, then cleaned himself up with a tissue. His orgasm could hardly have been more intense even if he had known what his aunt was doing just a few feet away on the other side of the wall – or if he had known that she too was being driven by the same illicit thoughts that had just sent him over the edge.

He felt terribly hot. Maybe there would be a storm that night. Then he remembered his Aunt Jo's phobia about them and desperately hoped that there would not be.