To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela16.txt


Article 32701 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:56:48 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 16/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)

                 FOURTEEN
 Ellen lay on the bed in the dark, staring at the
ceiling. She sighed. "Is it me, honey? Is there
anything wrong?"
     Butch rolled over on his side. "No, babe.
Everything's fine. I guess I'm just tired out. I've
been working too hard the last few days. I'm sorry,
hon."
     Ellen kissed him gently. "You'll be all right
tomorrow, I'm sure. Don't worry about it."
     Butch drifted off into a fitful sleep, but Ellen
couldn't take her own advice. She lay on her back,
clutching her shoulders with her crossed arms. Maybe I
ought to work harder at being sexy. Working full time,
and trying to keep the house going, I've kind of let
some things slide. Course, I'd help if Butch would lift
a finger to do some of the chores... Anyway, maybe I
ought to spend more time on my makeup. And I could get
to the beauty parlor a lot more often if I put my mind
to it. How about getting some sexy lingerie? Surprise
him. I dunno... Maybe he is just tired. Her whirling
thoughts finally turned to unsettling dreams.
                *           *             *
They'd pushed two hassocks together in the middle of
the living room, and Pamela lay face-down on them, her
feet straight out behind her, her arms dangling down
bonelessly. Bobby knelt beside her, his oily hands
working their way down her spinal column. He reached
the sacral vertebrae, slid his way to her shoulder
blades, and scratched her back in long, gliding,
slippery strokes. A long sigh of contentment escaped
the woman's lips. When he'd finished with her back, he
let his hands slip lower, onto the tops of her swelling
buttocks. He got some more oil, making sure he kept his
elbow resting on his aunt so she'd know where he was,
and began to knead her globes carefully and thoroughly.
He heard the tempo of her breathing quicken slightly,
and he knew that the massage was about to take a more
sexual turn. He was more than ready; he'd had a hard-on
the whole time. He worked in way inwards, slipping his
fingers up and down the slippery crevice and spreading
the cheeks to reveal the brown, puckered rosette.
Pamela shifted her weight as she slipped one hand under
her body and fingered her moist pussy. Bobby ran his
fingertips rapidly back and forth over her asshole as
she began to moan.
     Suddenly, the woman moved back and pulled her legs
up so she was kneeling with her upper body still flat
on the hassocks. "Get behind me, Bobby," she said in a
tone still dazed from the massage. Bobby obeyed,
straddling his aunt's legs and squeezing her calves
between his knees. "Now rub me with your thumbs," she
instructed. The boy splayed his hands out along his
aunt's buns, his thumbs pointing inwards. He ran each
one lightly in turn over her rubbery asshole, letting
them dig in slightly. Her fingers flashed in her dark
bush.
     Presently, Pamela spoke again; "Now slip one thumb
in."
     "Yes ma'am." Bobby's fingers were already oily
enough. He positioned his thumb at he center of the
crinkled target, pressed gently, and sank slowly in to
the hilt. He rotated his hand back and forth.

     "Oh, God. That's so good." Bobby kept it up. He
could smell his aunt's excitement. Several minute
passed.
     "Take your thumb out, Bobby."
     "Yes'm." Was it over? She hadn't come yet.
     "Now give me two fingers."
     Bobby got a little more oil, and poised his index
and middle fingers at the now-loosened entrance to her
bottomhole. They slipped smoothly inside, not without
some resistance.
     "Good boy. Now fuck me. Slow at first. Now you can
speed up. Yes, that's it. Finger-fuck me, Bobby. Fuck
my tight little asshole. Faster. You're gonna make me
come, Bobby." Her fingers were a blur. "That's it,
Bobby. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Ohhh." Pamela jerked,
clenched, jerked, and went limp. A red flush spread
downwards across her oily back.
                *           *             *
After dinner, Ellen disappeared while Butch worked on
her car. When he came into the bedroom, dirty and
tired, Ellen was sitting at her dressing table brushing
out her hair. The room lights were dim, and her perfume
was spiced the air. She rose, brushing her hands slowly
over the sheer wrap that covered her breasts. One hand
continued on to her belly and stopped there, her
fingers pointing provocatively down towards the dark
triangle visible through the silky material. With
languid grace, the dark-haired woman untied the bow at
her neck and shrugged her way out of the gown, holding
it out with one hand for a moment before letting it
fall in a wispy pile on her chair. The naked woman
approached her fully-dressed husband. "I want you,
Butch," she said simply, putting her hands on his
shoulders and holding her face up to be kissed.
     "But I'm all dirty." And tired. And limp from a
wild afternoon with Ginny.
     "I like that. I want to see your dirty hands on my
soft breasts. I want to see the grease marks your
fingers make as you touch and stroke me." She placed
her husband's palms against her globes. "Pinch my
nipples, Butch. They're hard. Hard for you." It was
true. She'd been touching herself before Butch had come
in to make sure she was turned on.
     Butch tweaked the stiff buds. His dirty fingertips
left oily black grime on the olive-brown flesh. He ran
his hands over the heavy white globes, leaving dark
stripes behind. Ellen looked down at herself. It did
look sexy: beauty defiled, defiled willingly, and
reveling in the marks. She looked back at Butch to see
if he was getting off on the scene. He was watching his
hands with interest, but with a kind of abstract
expression on his face instead of the lust that Ellen
expected to find there.
     Worried, but game, she unbuttoned her husband's
shirt and fumbled with his belt. Letting his pants fall
to the floor, she pulled his shirt open and pressed
herself against his chest, wriggling as she slipped
slowly downwards. The woman knelt before her husband
and put her hand on his dick through his jockey briefs.
Half-hard. Well, I can fix that. She tugged down on the
waistband, exposing the semi-turgid meat. Leaving his
underwear halfway down his thighs, Ellen put one hand

on the base of his cock and directed the tip towards
her engulfing mouth. She bobbed her head slowly up and
down, sucking and working with her tongue. She had to
open her mouth wider as her efforts began to pay off.
Finally, she pulled her mouth slowly away. Time to put
that someplace else, she thought as she stood up and
helped her husband out of the rest of his clothes.
     She drew him to the bed, flipping the covers back
and settling down on the sheet. She lay on her back
with her arms outstretched. "Come fuck me, Butch," she
pleaded. "I want you so bad."
     Butch had no way out. He lowered himself between
Ellen's legs and inserted the tip of his prick in her
wet pussy. Trying to get into it, he looked her
straight in the eye as he drove his shaft home.
     Ellen cried out her pleasure. "Oh, God. God, that
feels good."
     Butch's hips kept up their beat. It didn't seem
like there was as much friction as before. When he
pushed his pelvis against hers, he couldn't feel his
cock pushing the walls apart. Something was wrong. He
slipped out, and reached down to put his cock back in.
It was almost completely flaccid. He froze.
     Ellen reached her hand down to see what was the
matter, and her fingers encountered the shriveled, limp
joint. Her first reaction was anger, but she fought it
down. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked as solicitously
as she could.
     "I dunno, babe," mumbled Butch. "I just don't
know."
     "Are you sure it's not me?"
     "No, baby. It's not you. I just haven't been
myself recently. Thinking about work too much, I
guess."
     "Do you think you ought to see the doctor?"
     "Let's just give it some time. It'll be OK."
                *           *             *
A slight quivering of the bed woke Butch in the middle
of the night. He rolled over to see what it was. Ellen
was curled in a little ball, crying softly, her body
trembling as she wept. Butch put his arm around her,
and she rolled into his embrace. "It is me, isn't it
honey," she sobbed, her arms folded up in front of her,
her fists pressed into her neck, her cheek wet and cold
against his. "I must be turning you off somehow. Is
there anything I can do different? Anything at all?
Just tell me and I'll do it. I love you, honey. I'll do
anything to make you happy."
     Butch did his best to convince her that things
were fine, that he was just tired, nothing to worry
about. He had little success. Tender words had never
been his strength.
                *           *             *
"Oh Daddy, come out here for a minute," Ginny called
from the garage.
     Mindful of Ellen's presence in the kitchen, Butch
stepped warily to the door. "OK, but we don't have long
until dinner."

     Ginny crooked her index finger from behind the
car. "Over here, Daddy," she called out in a singsong
voice. It sounded like a taunt.
     With a sigh, Butch closed the door and worked his
way around the car.
     "Down there," ordered his daughter, pointing at
the floor.
     "Not now, honey. Mom could come out here any
minute," he protested nervously.
     "I want you now," she said insistently, her
fingers fumbling with his fly. His cock rested half-
hard in her palm. "Get down on your knees Daddy," she
continued, "You're gonna eat me while you jerk yourself
off."
     "It's not a good time, baby." Butch's palms
started to sweat.
     "I need it. I'm so hot and sticky and itchy down
there." The girl pulled on her father's shoulders, and
he reluctantly sank to the floor. "That's good, Daddy,"
soothed Ginny as she pulled up her skirt. She dropped
it over Butch's head, put her hands outside, and pushed
his face against her panty-covered pussy. The older man
obediantly began to tongue the damp, slick nylon,
licking at the little ball of firmness right under the
crotch seam, and occasionally running his tongue along
the edge of the leg holes and lapping at the hairs that
had escaped their nylon prison. His hand went to his
swollen dick and began to stroke it as Ginny inflamed
him with her words: "Ooooh, yes. I've been thinking
about this all day. First I got horny in my English
class. Mr. Rudolph was wearing real loose-fitting
khakis -- the kind with a pleated front -- and I
thought I could see his dick when he moved around.
There was something that kinda of pressed against the
material every so often. I put my finger in my mouth
and started to suck on it. I'd look at him with my eyes
wide and move my finger in and out real slow, and
pretty soon I could see his cock for sure. He spent a
lot of time facing the blackboard so the class wouldn't
see, but when he'd turn around, he'd always look at me,
and I'd check him out. I started to wriggle a little
bit, and I let my dress work its way up over my knees,
then I spread my legs about a foot. I could see him
trying to glance up my skirt without making it obvious.
I kept thinking about his cock -- by then I could tell
it was pretty big -- and I got turned on. I thought
about kneeling on the floor in front of him and
unzipping his pants, then reaching in and scooping out
his dick. I thought about wrapping my lips around the
tip and hearing him suck in his breath, then playing
with his balls with both hands -- using my fingernails
to pinch and scratch them -- while I took him deep in
my mouth. My puss kept leaking juice, and I could feel
my panties getting wet. When we finally got out of
class and I started to walk down the hall I felt all
squishy between my legs -- when a breeze blew
underneath my skirt it felt cold on my pussy lips."
     Ginny broke off her story. "C'mon Daddy, I've got
to get these things off," she said urgently as she
stepped back and rolled her panties down her legs.
Butch blinked, dazed by the light. Ginny reached down
and tucked her damp panties into her father's shirt
pocket. He looked down at them numbly, and was caught
by surprise when his daughter stepped back over him and
flipped her skirt down around his shoulders. Once more
in darkness, he groped blindly for Ginny's pussy,

burying his face in her generous muff and following the
trail of scent to her core. The girl gasped as he found
her clit with his pointed tongue. "That's right,
Daddy," she cooed. "You're a good cuntlapper, aren't
you?" For an answer, Butch circled her clit rapidly
with his tongue.
     "After English class we had math," Ginny
continued, beginning to breathe hard. "That was boring,
and all my juice dried on my panties. They were stiff
when I walked into Gym class. I left them on when I
changed into my shorts, and I got all sweaty when we
worked out. I wanted to get to lunch afterwards, so I
didn't take a shower -- just a little deodorant -- and
my panties were damp again as I ran over to the
cafeteria. By the time I'd finished lunch I was
starting to get itchy down there, and that made me
horny again. In geography class I wrapped my knees
around a table leg, rubbed my puss up against it, and
thought about Mr. Rudolph some more. It wasn't as good
when I couldn't look at him and try to turn him on,
though. After class I was all wet again, but when I
dried out the itch came back. I though about
scratching, but it wasn't that kind of an itch. Then I
thought of what could make it all better. Can you
guess?"
     "Mmph," answered Butch in the negative.
     "My daddy's sweet tongue," said the girl proudly.
"My daddy's long, wet tongue on my sweaty pussy,
reaching deep inside me to get at all the itchy parts.
And you know what, Daddy?"
     "Mmm?"
     "It feels even better than I thought," said Ginny,
panting. "C'mon, Daddy, make me come. I've been waiting
for this all afternoon. You know just how to do it.
Lick your little girl just the way she likes it. That's
right, Daddy, almost there. A little faster now. Oh,
yes! So good!" Ginny pressed her tender tissues hard
against her father's mouth and he drew a violent orgasm
from her as he himself shot his wad on the floor of the
garage.
     Swaying a little, Ginny leaned against the car as
she uncovered her father's head. As she glanced at the
floor, her face contorted in disgust. "Oh, gross!" she
exclaimed, "You came all over my shoes!"
     Butch stammered an apology and cleaned his
daughter's tennis shoes with his handkerchief. Ginny
flounced off into the house, and Butch prepared to
follow her, trying to brush the dust off his knees. In
a post-orgasmic depression, he stared at the wet
whiteness on the concrete floor. This was getting away
from him. He wanted to become his own person again, but
he knew that the next time his daughter wiggled her
sexy hips at him he'd find himself in a lather of sick
hornyness that would render him once again powerless.
Filled with self-revulsion, he started for the house.
When he was opening the door, he noticed Ginny's damp
panties still in his breast pocket. Guiltily, he balled
them up and stuffed them in his hip pocket with his
handkerchief....
                *           *             *
...where Ellen discovered them two days later as she
was doing the wash. She was first confused, then

unbelieving, and finally furious. That son of a bitch
is fooling around with Ginny. His own flesh and blood.
He must have forced her, the bastard. She forced an icy
calm over herself. He won't get away with this. He's
gonna pay somehow.
                *           *             *
Butch trembled before his wife. She pushed him
backwards onto the bed and held Ginny's panties in his
face. "What are these all about?" she screamed at him.
An impatient shove on the chest toppled Butch
backwards; he broke his fall with his elbows and lay
silent as his wife tossed the bit of white nylon on his
chest. "Did you fuck her, you prick?" she raged. She
put her hands on her hips and leaned over him. "You're
gonna tell me exactly what happened. The truth, you
understand. Not one little fib. I'm going to ask the
questions and you're gonna give me the answers, right?"
     Butch nodded his head mutely. He was scared to
death, and he felt guilty and burdened by his secrets.
     "How'd you get her drawers?" asked Ellen, her face
red with fury.
     "She put them in my pocket," answered Butch in a
small voice.
     "She what?"
     "She took them off so I could, uh, lick her pussy
and I put them in my pocket."
     "You forced her, didn't you? Did you just threaten
her, or did you hold her down? Fucking animal!"
     "It wasn't like that. She made me eat her."
     "Made you? Bullshit! How could that little tiny
girl make you do anything?"
     "I like it when she makes me do things. It's
wrong, and I'm weak. I let her do it once, and then she
threatened to tell about the other times."
     "You like what?"
     "I've always liked the idea of women controlling
me. I never told you 'cause I thought it'd turn you
off, and I never did anything until Ginny got to me a
few weeks ago. Then I just couldn't stop."
     Ellen was astonished. This had the ring of truth,
weird though it was. Her anger temporarily lost out to
her curiosity. "Controlling you -- what's that mean?"
     Butch struggled to his feet and opened his secret
cache. His face red with shame, he thrust one of the
magazines into his wife's hands. She glanced at the
lurid cover, opened it a random, and gaped. "What are
those?" she asked.
     "Nipple clamps. They hurt. She's putting them on
to teach him a lesson."
     She was horrified and fascinated. "What kind of
lesson?"
     "It doesn't really matter. She likes to do it, and
he likes to have it done. They just pretend that he
doesn't."
     Ellen flipped the page. "What's this?"
     "One of them is making him eat her while the other
one fucks him in the ass with a dildo."
     "And this?"
     "She's making him pull down her panties with his
teeth."
     Ellen felt a little dizzy. The images in the
magazine were shocking and raw, but they stirred her in

some way. She tossed the thing aside. "Did Ginny hurt
you?" she asked, alarmed at the thought.
     "Not really. She's more into degrading me and
making me serve her."
     Ellen thought for a minute. "You know, it doesn't
make any difference whether it was her idea or your
idea," she said, not quite believing her words. "You're
the adult, and she's the child. You're supposed to be
man enough to do the right thing."
     "I know that, and I'm not blaming her. It's all my
fault. I've been weak, and a fool, and nobody would
blame you if you threw me out of the house."
     "I could do worse than that. I could turn you in
as a child molester."
     The thought had done more than cross Butch's mind.
"I hope you'll forgive me. I'll do anything you say."
He sat on the bed and stared at the floor.
     Ellen didn't know what to do. Her shock at the
pictures was fading into a sexy glow, but her anger was
returning. How dare he betray me? And with Ginny! And
when he couldn't get it up, he must have been fucking
her -- or whatever they did -- so much he was limp. And
then, I thought it was my fault. Shit, how could I be
so stupid! I cried and cried and he just let me go
on... She made a decision without even realizing she
had to decide anything. "Get undressed," she said in a
low, level voice, her anger in control and her ears not
believing what they heard coming from her mouth.
     Butch fumbled his way out of his clothes and stood
before his wife with a stiffening cock and a servile
expression. Noticing his erection, she pulled a chair
up before him and sat down. "You let this thing run
your life," she said, giving it a little slap. Butch's
prick bobbled from side to side as he stood impassively
over his wife. Emboldened, she slapped his dick a few
more times with gradually increasing force. It rose to
full erection. Ellen marveled at the warm feeling
between her legs. She had no idea this kind of thing
could turn her on. She gripped his balls with her
fingernails. "Or maybe it's these," she growled,
twisting the sack back and forth. Butch just took it.
     Ellen had another idea. "Turn sideways," she said
as she pulled on her husband's hips. She held his dick
in one hand while she ran the other over his furry
buttocks. Her gentle touch was ominous in the face of
her anger, and Butch waited nervously. The sweat
tricked out from under his arms and ran in thin
droplets down his sides as she drew out the moment. The
increased force of her grip on his cock was Butch's
first sign. that something was imminent, then Ellen
slapped him hard on the ass. The first blows hurt her
hand, but she kept at it for a minute or so. Butch's
cock jerked back and forth in Ellen's fist as he
reacted to her spanking, and the friction excited him.
The blows didn't hurt that much, and he loved the idea
of being punished by his wife.
     Ellen soon realized that things weren't working
out the way she wanted. Her husband's heavily muscled
cheeks were hurting her hand. She stopped spanking, and
looked around the room. Seeing nothing obviously
useful, she stood up, stepped around Butch, and went
into the bathroom.
     When she returned, Ellen's face was creased with a
thin smile. She held a long-handled hairbrush in one
hand, and tapped it lightly against the other palm,
letting Butch get a good look. The bristles felt sharp

against her flesh as she varied the force, trying to
see what effects she could get.
     Ellen walked over and stood very close to her
husband and ran the brush through his matted chest
hair, then over his nipples. The coarse fibers bit into
the hard nubs. Still looking up at him, she trailed the
brush down his chest, across his belly, and finally
stroked the underside of his cock with the bristles.
Butch flinched as the sharp spines flicked against his
sensitive flesh, and Ellen's grim smile increased. She
sat back down so she could see what she was doing,
turned her husband to face her, and began an thorough
exploration of his swollen member. She couldn't get
much force from the underside, because his cock just
jumped upwards. From the top was better, and she tried
faster strokes for a while, gradually concentrating on
the head. After it was well sensitized, she started to
tap it rapidly with the ends of the coarse hairs,
moving the brush in short strokes, and moving her hand
around so she gave all parts of the helmet equal
attention. Butch gritted his teeth as the sharp
bristles bounced off his inflamed skin; it hurt, but
the drop of pre-come forming on the tip of his prick
showed Ellen how much it turned him on. She rapped the
brush against the clear fluid, splattering it around;
more welled up to take its place as Butch's fists
clenched in mixed pain and pleasure.
     Looking for new territory, The grimly triumphant
woman slapped the inside of her husband's thighs with
her free hand. When he obediantly spread his legs, she
scraped the brush roughly over the interior of his
upper legs and reached between them to irritate his ass
cheeks, leaving reddened skin in her wake. His balls
were next; after a few side to side strokes, Ellen
returned to the sharp taps that had served so well on
her husband's cock. When she grew tired of that game,
she returned to the tip of his cock, but this time she
held the shaft firmly in place with one hand while she
lavished firm, short strokes on the soft flesh with
little flicks of her wrist. This new, rougher treatment
afforded Butch more pain, but he just bit his lower lip
and accepted it.
     As Ellen grew more aroused, an urge to discard her
clothes developed. It had given her a feeling of power
to be fully dressed while her victim stood naked before
her, but she wanted the freedom to touch her tingling
nipples or her now-drenched pussy as well as the
ability to use her husband for her pleasure. Setting
the hairbrush aside, the dark-haired woman stood up and
put one foot on the chair. When Butch looked
inquisitively at her, she simply pointed at the ground,
and he knelt at her feet. "Take off my shoes," she said
evenly. He bent to his task, kissing her toes for good
measure before she changed feet. His willing servility
surprised and excited Ellen, and she began to think of
things that would take advantage of it. She stood
barefooted before him, and gradually pulled her skirt
up. "Kiss my knees," she breathed. "Now higher," she
whispered as she exposed another inch of leg. Butch
followed the hem of the skirt slowly upwards,
reverently pressing his lips to his wife's soft skin.
     She finally exposed the small white triangle at
the crotch of her panties. He went for it, but she held
up a hand, and he pulled backwards and watched her
gradually expose the entire front of her panties. The
expanse of white nylon was shadowed by Ellen's thick,

dark bush. A few hairs peeked out of the legs. Butch
studied the way his wife's pussy lips pushed against
the tight slick cloth, forming a shallow trough. She
beckoned him with her forefinger, and he placed his
lips gently against the tender place where her labia
separated. "Just the skin," she cautioned with some
reluctance; Butch ran his lips along the hem of his
wife's panties, sniffing her spice as her neared her
core. She slowly turned around, and her followed the
elastic around her hips and along the furrow at the
bottom of her buttocks, sniffing a funky scent as he
crossed over from one cheek to the other. As Ellen
completed the circle and stood once more facing her
husband, she held the front of her skirt up with one
hand and began to unbutton her blouse with the other.
Butch kept up his respectful kisses as she tossed the
garment on the floor. The skirt dropped over his
shoulders as Ellen used both hands to unbutton its side
fastening, then she flicked it away over her head and
threw it on the blouse.
     "Kiss me here," she said, pointing to a place
between her navel and the top of her bikini panties.
The pressure of Butch's lips was just right: soft,
subservient, and deferential. Butch held his face still
as his wife presented various parts of her belly for
his obeisant adoration. While doing so, she unsnapped
her brassiere and pulled it down her arms. As the
garment landed on the growing pile of clothes, Ellen's
fingers found her stiff brown nipples, pinching them as
she watched her husband grovel. It felt right to give
herself pleasure as he attended reverently to her.
Giving each long bud a final tweak, Ellen slowly slid
her hands over her stomach to her hips. Hooking her
thumbs in the waistband of her panties, she eased them
down slowly. Butch followed the elastic down her belly,
kissing each increment of her hairy mound as she
unveiled it to him. When he reached her sticky pussy
lips, she enjoyed his attentions for a minute, then
pushed her undergarment suddenly down her legs, tossed
it aside and stepped abruptly over her servile husband.
Her momentum forced his head back. and he felt the
muscles at the back of his neck compress as she pressed
down on him, grinding her wet cunt violently against
his lips. Without a word she bore down harder and
harder, until Butch collapsed backwards onto the floor.
Even then, Ellen followed him down, and came to rest
sitting firmly on his face as he lay on his back. She
ground herself against him without mercy, inwardly
rejoicing when his tongue came out to meekly lap at her
inner folds. She put her hands on his forehead to
steady herself as she rode him, using his tongue, his
lips, and his nose for her satisfaction. She bucked
back and forth in wild abandon as her husband attempted
valiantly to lick at whatever she presented him. As her
fervor became more intense, she pressed her clit
against his mouth, rotating her hips in tiny circles.
Butch lapped the hard little button single-mindedly,
lashing it in circles until Ellen shrieked her ecstasy,
digging her fingers into his hair and pressing the back
of his head into the carpet.
     Shocked by the intensity of his wife's release,
Butch lay quietly until her movements ceased. Ellen,
recovering from her passion, looked into his eyes with
an expression he didn't recognize: an intense mixture
of passion, excitement, and mastery that frightened as
much as excited him. Be careful what you wish for, a

voice repeated from the recesses of his mind. He had as
much control of the situation as a twig in the rapids,
and he hung on for the ride.
     Ellen recovered and struggled to her feet,
stepping on her husband's face in the process. She sat
heavily upon the chair, casting around until she found
the hairbrush. She held it up for his inspection, and
broke the silence: "That was for me. This is for you.
Stand up. Now bend over my lap. Leave your feet on the
floor, and rest your weight on your hands." Butch's
body formed an inverted V, with his cock coming to rest
between his wife's thigh's and his ass pointing at the
ceiling. She stroked the bristles over his defenseless
buttocks and between his hairy cheeks, giving him
plenty of time to imagine the coming torment. Flipping
the hairbrush over so that the flat part faced
downwards, Ellen pulled back her hand and delivered a
solid blow to her husband's backside. The sound wasn't
as crisp as she had hoped -- the hairbrush didn't cover
enough area -- but Butch flinched satisfyingly, and a
bright red mark appeared on his buttock. "That hurt?"
she asked in a tone that indicated that she didn't care
much one way or the other.
     "Uhh."
     That sounded like an affirmative to her. More
swats followed, each delivered with persuasive
authority, and soon Butch was writhing. His ass turned
beet-red under his wife's assault; the efforts made her
breathe hard, but she kept it up until the muscles in
her arm begged for relief. As he twisted back and forth
in her lap, Ellen felt Butch's prick work its way down
between her legs; she clamped her thighs together,
trapping its warm stiff bulk. It felt good there,
jerking to and fro in time with her swings. Ellen
rested her arm for a moment, running the bristles of
the hairbrush over her husband's reddened buttocks. The
stiff fibers grated painfully on the sensitized skin,
and Butch's pitiful whining, instead of causing
sympathy in his wife, made her eager for more.. She
returned to the spanking, this time with the bristles
instead the back of the brush, experimenting with, and
finally perfecting a raking motion at the end of each
stroke. Butch yelps were gratifyingly heartfelt.
     Her arm tired before Ellen felt complete. She
slumped over her husband, her heavy breasts grazing his
back, and her arm outstretched towards his feet. As she
toyed with the brush, rubbing it against the backs of
Butch's knees, a way to continue his travail with less
effort occurred to her. Pulling herself erect again,
she brought the handle of the hairbrush to her lips,
and slowly, voluptuously, sucked it into her mouth. It
felt smooth, round, and gratifyingly large as she
coated it liberally with her saliva. Ellen smiled
inwardly as she rubbed the slippery probe insistently
up and down the crack of her husband's ass. Feeling the
yielding center, she pried his cheeks apart with her
free hand so she had a nice clear view of the way his
crinkled pink rosette bend inward and dilated as she
forced the handle home. She had to press harder that
she though she would, but Butch's tense sphincter
muscles finally surrendered to her patient attack, and
the hairbrush sank suddenly in, stopping only when the
bristles poked into the inside of his buttocks. Butch's
discomfort was acute, but he only grunted -- he'd never
been as turned on in his life. Gripping the top of the
hairbrush, Ellen began to fuck Butch's ass with the

handle, twisting it back and forth as she rammed it
home, her lips a thin line as she grimly exacted her
retribution. "Like that?" she said through clenched
teeth.
     Butch only moaned.
     "Doesn't matter anyway. I don't care if you like
it or not. You're gonna take it either way, aren't
you?" The brush moved in and out a little faster.
Butch's hips jerked in time with the strokes, and Ellen
clenched her thighs tightly together, capturing her
husband's squirming cock in their warm embrace. She
fucked him harder and faster until Butch could take no
more: his body stiffened and his hot emissions squirted
between his wife's clasping thighs.
                *           *             *
Ellen lay beside her sleeping husband and stared at the
ceiling. The evening had exhausted him, but her mind
swarmed with strange, terrifying, but somehow
intoxicating thoughts. The balance of power had
shifted, and she intended to see that the old order
never returned. She had to plan. The next day or so
could be crucial. The first thing was Ginny. Three was
too many for the house now; either Butch or Ginny would
have to go, and Ellen had plans for Butch. The next
thing was a new set of rules for her husband. There
would be some sweeping changes in that department.
Let's start with housework...
                *           *             *
Butch rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. His
wife stood naked over him, examining his sleepy face
critically with her arms crossed. He gave a little
start. "Honey..." he began blearily.
     Ellen needed to make sure things got off on the
right foot. "Throw the covers on the floor," she said
icily. Might as well get him used to obeying orders.
She remembered something she'd seen in the magazine. It
seemed like a good way remind her husband of his
degraded status. She was she unsure of the extent of
her power over him. She'd have to figure out a way to
make sure he got something out if it. Then she was
pretty sure he'd go for it.
     Butch threw the sheets back, exposing his hard
body and his limp dick. "Sure thing, babe..."
     "On your back. Head at the foot of the bed. Arms
at your side."
     Butch wriggled into position. In some ways, this
was his dream come true, but there was an element of
danger that hadn't figured in his fantasies. Thankful
that his wife wasn't going to throw him out on the
street, he didn't think much beyond the moment.
      Butch looked up at his wife as she came over to
the side of the bed, spread her legs and pressed her
knees against the mattress. He couldn't see her face
very well, and that bothered him. He was a little
worried about where she was coming from. She put one
knee on the bed, and he couldn't see her face at all,
just her slightly puffy pussy lips peeking from her
hairy muff. The other knee hit the bed, and Ellen

lowered her crotch toward her husband's face. "Tongue
out," she commanded. Her clit brushed against his nose,
her labia opened and passed over his mouth, but kept on
going. Ellen rotated her hips until her brown, smelly
ring touched her husband's outstretched tongue. "Kiss
my ass, you bastard," hissed the woman, suddenly
letting Butch feel her full weight. Butch thrust his
tongue as far as he could into his wife's greasy
asshole. She was fairly relaxed, and he got deep enough
to lick against her inner walls. It took a few seconds
before he noticed that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't
speak, but he moaned in distress. Ellen,
misinterpreting his outburst, sat down even harder,
twisting her ass back and forth a little. Butch
complained more loudly, and she finally got the
message. His mouth still fully occupied, Butch, inhaled
gratefully through his nose.
     Ellen reached for her husband's dick, limp no
more. She stroked it rapidly for a while, until she
recognized the signs that Butch was getting close, then
she slowed her pace to let him fall back down. As she
fisted him at a tantalizingly dawdling pace, she began
to inform her husband how things were going to be.
     "Can you hear me, Butch?"
     "Uh-huh."
     "Keep licking, while I talk to you."
     "Mmm."
     "You want to stay in this house?"
     "Uh-huh."
     "You want to stay out of jail?"
     "Uh-huh." That seemed to be delivered with a
little extra intensity.
     "Then from now on, I'm going to run things."
     "Uh-huh."
     "You're gonna do what I say, aren't you?"
     "Uh-huh."
     "No matter what?"
     "Uh-huh."
     "That's what I like to hear." Ellen lifted her
spongy cheeks from her husband's face, twisted around,
and sat on his chest, almost galling off in the
process. She put one foot above each of his shoulders,
grabbed her knees, and ooched her butt up until her
glistening pussy was about half a foot from his face.
"I was sure you'd see things my way," she said, fixing
Butch with her gaze.
     "Whatever you say, honey," he responded, glancing
down at her cunt with a combination of apprehension and
hunger in his eyes.
     Ellen reached across with her left hand and
grabbed her right knee, freeing up her right hand,
which fluttered down the back of her thigh and across
her black thatch. Smiling at her husband's evident
confusion, she worked her middle finger deep inside her
now-slippery asshole, then pulled it out and stuck it
in his mouth. "Suck on it," she ordered. Butch meekly
licked his wife's finger for a minute. It was nice and
slippery now. She slipped it back in her asshole, then
held it under his nose. "Wanna taste it some more?" she
taunted him.
     Butch nodded submissively.
     Now was the time for Ellen to find out how far she
could push her husband. Slipping her finger once more
into his mouth, she asked, "Taste good?"
     "Mm-mmf," he answered affirmatively.

     She went back for another load, and held her
finger to his nose again. "Smell my shit?" There. She
couldn't believe she'd said that.
     "Uh-huh," replied Butch, staring back at her with
a puppy-dog expression.
     "Now taste it," she said, sliding her finger
between her husband's slack lips.
     Butch obediently sucked on her finger, running his
tongue eagerly around it. There really wasn't that much
taste, but the symbolism of the act excited Butch
immensely. His wife crooked her digit, and he tried to
lick under her nail.
     Ellen was amazed. She'd thought that it would take
a lot more to bring Butch around. She was prepared to
threaten him until he gave in, and was relieved at her
early victory. What now? Should she let him come as a
reward? No, she wanted to keep him horny until she had
thoroughly established her dominance. Should she make
him get her off? Better, but only if she could do it in
a way that reinforced his subjugation. She leaned
forward, putting one foot on the floor above Butch's
head and leaving the other knee on the bed above his
shoulder. With both hands free now, she used the middle
finger of the left one to feed him little tastes of her
asshole while she stroked her clit with the index and
middle fingers of the right one. Pussy juice dripped
down onto Butch's sucked-in cheeks and Ellen pleasured
herself. She made herself take a long time to come.

To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela17.txt


Article 32702 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:56:52 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 17/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)

                   FIFTEEN
The doorbell broke the tense silence. Bobby stood at
attention in his panties as he opened the door,
allowing Ginny access to the living room. The girl
stepped across the threshold, and stood for a moment
blinking as Bobby closed the door behind her.
Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and the girl
could see Pamela sitting on the couch wearing an off-
white linen suit, a blank expression on her face.
Pamela looked cool and relaxed to Ginny; for some
reason it made the girl angry that her aunt should look
so relaxed when she was hot and sweaty and feeling
frazzled. Her armpits were slimy with perspiration, and
her crotch felt damp where her shorts and her underwear
had bunched up between her thighs. She tugged absently
at the hems with one hand.
     Bobby picked up Ginny's suitcase and started for
the stairs. The girl noticed him for the first time.
"What's he wearing?" she called out, incredulous. "He
looks so silly!" Bobby stopped and turned back towards
her, exposing the protrusion his erection made in the
thin material of his underwear. Ginny touched the
waistband of Bobby's panties, as if she needed a
tactile verification of what her eyes had told her. She
ran her hand down over his rod. "You're a horny
bastard, aren't you?" she said with a smirk. "Hung,
though," she muttered, impressed. Bobby stood
impassively as his cousin squeezed him gently through
his underwear; a slight blush formed on his cheeks.
Sensing her power over him, Ginny began to move her
hand more rapidly, fanning it lightly over Bobby's
meat. The boy groaned. His knees sagged slightly as he
let his cousin jack him off.
     Ginny felt her confidence rise. She could dominate
this situation, too. All she'd have to do is keep on

top of the two of them and she'd be running the show
again. She let go of Bobby's cock long enough to pull
the waistband of his panties out and tuck the elastic
under his balls, exposing his tool. She cupped his rod
in one hand and tickled his balls with her other.
Bobby's fingers lost their grip on the suitcase, and it
fell to the floor with a thump, then toppled over on
its side.
     A sharp sound split the air, and Ginny's ass
stung. Dropping Bobby's prick, she turned around just
in time to catch a slap across her face. She covered
her reddening cheek with her hand as Pamela scolded
her: "Get your hands off him! That's just what you're
going to have to learn not to do. When I get through
with you it's going to be 'Yes, Ma'am' and 'No, Ma'am'
and you're going to be the passive one. Do you
understand that?"
     Ginny stammered incoherently. She couldn't believe
her aunt would treat her that way.
     "Never mind," said Pamela. "You'll see. Now
undress."
     Ginny's hand went automatically to the top button
of her shirt before her mind engaged. She paused.
"Wh..what?"
     "You heard me. Get your clothes off, and do it
quick."
     "No fucking way." The girl stood rigid, her arms
crossed on her chest.
     "Bobby, grab her arms."
     Bobby pinned his cousin's elbows behind her back
as Pamela began to unbutton Ginny's shirt, her face
impassive and her manner methodical. The girl struggled
a little, but gave up when she saw it wasn't getting
her anywhere. Pamela finished with the buttons, reached
inside the shirt, and unfastened the front of Ginny's
thin white bra. Pushing the material aside, the older
woman weighed one of the girl's breasts in her hand,
nodded once, and rolled Ginny's olive nipple between
her thumb and forefinger. To Ginny's embarrassment, she
was almost instantly rock-hard. Pamela trailed her hand
across the girl's stomach and unbuttoned the waistband
of her jeans, then slowly pulled down the zipper. The
metallic sound seemed loud in the room. Pamela pushed
Ginny's jeans over her hips and down her legs until the
girl stood with a pile of blue cloth at her ankles
capped with a tangle of white panties.
     "Let's see what we have here," said the older
woman as she pushed Ginny's shirt and bra up on her
shoulders. Bobby tugged the material down the girl's
arms and dropped the garments on the floor. Pamela ran
a fingernail over one erect nipple, then slowly slid
her finger down the girl's belly, scratching the navel
in passing, and plunging into her niece's dark bush.
Ginny clamped her legs together and twisted to one
side, dislodging her aunt's hand.
     "Insubordinate, aren't you?" Pamela muttered
coolly. "I can fix that, you know," she said, turning
and walking to the couch. "Bobby, bring her over here.
No, just pick her up by the arms and drag her over.
That's good. Down by the end. No, facing the couch. Now
bend her over the arm. Good. Now sit down. A little
closer to the arm; you can put her head in your lap.
Now just hold her right there." Ginny lay face down
over the arm of the couch, her feet enmeshed in her
pants and her face pressed into Bobby's underwear.
Remembering Ginny's teasing a few minutes earlier, the

boy tangled his fingers in her hair and rubbed her nose
against his stiff shaft as Pamela took a position at
the end of the couch.
     Pamela ran her fingers gently over Ginny's ass
cheeks, cupping the girls buns in her palms, caressing
and patting, enjoying their soft warmth. One long, cool
finger insinuated itself into Ginny's cleft and probed
briefly, but insistently, at the girl's dark brown
asshole. Ginny let out a little gasp, but before she
could protest, Pamela had moved on, and her fingers
played over her niece's pussy lips. The girl clamped
her legs closed, trapping her aunt's hand.
     "Open up," said Pamela in the voice of a mother
coaxing her two-year-old to eat some vegetables. Ginny
just squeezed harder. Her aunt twisted her hand free
and delivered a brisk slap to Ginny's left cheek.
Ripples spread across Ginny's buttocks, and the girl
yelped briefly. Pamela spanked the other side, then
stopped to observe the red hand prints that slowly
formed. "Now will you relax for me?' she asked in a
cool tone. Ginny said nothing, but the firm set of her
ass cheeks was answer enough.
     Pamela's voice grew stern. "Around this house,
disobedient little girls are punished. Virginia, you're
going to get a spanking. It's a spanking that you
richly deserve, not only for the way you're acting, but
for what brings you to this house. Yes, I think you
have a good one coming." Pamela moved to the coffee
table and picked up the Ping-Pong paddle she had placed
there earlier. Ginny couldn't see her, but she heard
the whistle as her aunt took a swat at the air, and her
heart sank.
     Pamela stood, her feet spread for balance, in
front of the arm of the couch. She braced her left hand
against the small of Ginny's back, and, leaning across
her, swung the paddle crisply into the girl's right
cheek. A satisfying crack shattered the silence. Ginny
yelped briefly, but the sound was muffled by Bobby's
belly. Pamela ignored the outburst, pursed her lips,
and began to alternate sides. She didn't hit very hard,
and there was plenty of time between the strokes, but
after a few minutes, Ginny's bottom felt quite hot. It
wasn't that it hurt so much -- though it did smart --
but that she felt so embarrassed and helpless. The girl
began to sniffle. This was so humiliating! Beyond the
degradation, there was a sexual aspect to it that
confused the teenager, and turned her on at the same
time.
     "You're hurting me, Aunt Pamela," she whined.
     The reply was matter-of-fact: "It's supposed to
hurt, dear. That's the whole idea." The spanks
continued at their unhurried pace.
     Ginny wriggled her hips from side to side. "Oh
stop, Aunt Pamela," she sputtered through her tears.
"I'll be good. I'll be very good."
     "I'll decide when your spanking is over, young
lady. Bobby, rub her mouth against the head of your
penis."
     Bobby, who had been thinking about how it would
feel to have his cousin suck his cock, tugged her head
up towards his belly button and pressed her lips to his
nylon-covered rod. The small puddle of tears felt cool
where her head had been on his belly.
     Ginny relaxed her lips, and they clung limply to
the head of his prick. She liked the feel of it. She
licked slowly against the slippery cloth, becoming more

aroused. Pamela paused, and ran her hand over Ginny's
darkening buttocks; her fingers fluttered between the
girl's legs and pressed lightly against her generously-
furred pussy before Pamela resumed the spanking.
     Pamela spoke again: "Now, Virginia, I'd like you
to do a little meditation on humility." The pace slowed
down even more, but the blows came harder. "Think about
obedience." Spank. "Think about temperance." Spank.
"Think about restraint." Spank. "Think about modesty."
Spank. "Think about purity." Spank. "Think about
virginity." "Too late for that, isn't it?" Spank.
     Pamela laid the paddle on the arm of the couch,
and grazed her fingers lightly over her niece's bright-
red backside. Ginny whimpered softly, all the fight
gone away. Her aunt explored her private places,
including those that had previously cause rebellion. As
Pamela's fingers prized open her outer lips and stroked
the pink petals beneath, Ginny realized that she was
wet. Not just a little bit, but sopping, she thought as
another wave of embarrassment washed over her. And Aunt
Pamela knows it, too. The older woman's middle finger
carried some of Ginny's slippery juices down to her
clit and teased the hard little nubbin with leisurely
strokes. Ginny's excitement and her humiliation rose as
her aunt expertly caressed her, finally bringing her to
a shuddering climax. Her reddened cheeks quivered as
she shook in ashamed ecstasy.
     Pamela motioned to Bobby, and he helped push the
girl upright. She stood at the end of the couch, her
face flushed and tear-stained, and her lips trembling.
"And now, Virginia," spoke Pamela evenly, "You will
obey me completely and willingly."
     "Y..yes, ma'am," replied the girl meekly.
     "You will comport yourself with humility and
discretion in my presence. You will address me politely
and respectfully, and you will willingly carry out
whatever duties I assign to you."
     "Yes, Aunt Pamela." Ginny was already thinking of
how to get out of this situation, but it didn't seem as
though she had many options right then.
     "Remove the remainder of your clothes." Ginny sat
on the arm of the couch and fumbled with her jeans. She
had to pull them up her legs to get at her shoelaces,
then she slipped off her shoes and socks, pushed her
pants and panties over her ankles with her feet, and
looked at her aunt with a question in her eyes. "Pick
them up," continued Pamela, "Go over there and get your
blouse and brassiere, and follow me." The three
ascended the stairs: Pamela leading, Ginny following at
a respectful distance, and Bobby bringing up the rear,
his eyes fastened on his cousin's reddened rear, which
wobbled just inches from his face. Nice buns, he
thought, as he watched them wobble up and down. It'd
feel great to sink your face in there. He wondered what
her asshole looked like; he hoped he'd find out soon.
     The group gathered in Pamela's bedroom. "Put your
clothes on the chair, dear," said Pamela to Ginny as
she busied herself in the closet. The older woman
emerged unfolding a white rubber sheet, which she
spread over the bed. "Lie down on your stomach,"
ordered Pamela.
     The sheet felt cool on the young girl's belly as
she wriggled into position, struggling against the
grippy surface. She crossed her hands under her chin,
and watched Pamela disappear into the bathroom. Cabinet
doors opened and closed around the corner where Ginny

couldn't see, and she heard water running in the sink.
Bobby stood impassively, his panties drooping a little.
They were damp and semi-transparent in front, and
traces of Ginny's lipstick marked the place where her
lips had been. The bedroom felt hot after the cool of
the downstairs part of the house. Ginny wondered what
was taking her aunt so long.
     After a few more minutes, Pamela came back into
the bedroom, carrying a jar of Vaseline and a large red
rubber bag to which was attached a thin white hose. "On
your hands and knees, Virginia," said Pamela in a voice
that brooked no nonsense. Ginny worked her way into
position. "Head back," said the woman absently, and the
teenager looked her aunt squarely in the face. Pamela
held the jar out to Bobby, and he stepped forward to
take it. "You know what to do," she said ominously.
Bobby disappeared out of Ginny's sight as she continued
to gaze into her aunt's eyes. She felt Bobby's greasy
fingers probing between her buttocks, and started to
jerk away, but thought better of it when she saw the
look on Pamela's face. Her jaw set with the effort of
holding still, she grimaced as Bobby worked two
slippery fingers deep into her anus, twisting them back
and forth for what seemed like a long time.
     For his part, Bobby was thoroughly enjoying the
pasty feeling of his pretty young cousin's rectal
passage and the delightful way her sphincter squeezed
his fingers irregularly. He moved his hand back and
forth as he watched his knuckles disappear into Ginny's
brown, crinkled ring. He applied more jelly, even
though she was already quite slippery. His fingers
moved easily inside her as he began to pump in and out
more rapidly. Maybe one more finger...
     "That's enough, Bobby." His aunt's command broke
his concentration. He pressed his fingers in as far as
they went and leaned against them, just to give his
cousin one last thing to think about, then slowly
pulled them out, wiping his hand on her still-red
cheeks and leaving a faint brown trail.
     "Do you know what this is?" asked Pamela as she
held up the bag.
     "I think so," answered her niece in a bemused
tone. "But I'm not sick."
     "This is more of a treatment for your head than
your body. You will learn obedience, and you will learn
humility. You will take all the water I give you with
no complaint. You will hold it inside for as long as I
wish. You will expel it when I am ready. Do you
understand?"
     "Yes."
     "Yes what?"
     "Yes ma'am."
     "That's better." Pamela walked over to where Bobby
stood. "Hold this," she said as she handed him the bag
and bent over her niece's kneeling form. The older
woman tested the teenager's opening with her finger.
"You did a good job, Bobby," she murmured as she placed
the nozzle at the center of Ginny's brown ring and
pushed. The thin tube seemed small after the boy's
fingers, but its hardness seemed somehow foreboding.
Pamela worked the tube back and forth, then tried
several angles, muttering negatively to herself. She
didn't seem to be able to get the nozzle just where she
wanted. She pulled it out and started all over. All
this probing and waiting made Ginny nervous, and part
of her hoped that her aunt would just get on with it,

just as part of her dreaded the coming invasion of her
body. After several more trials, Pamela pronounced the
nozzle properly inserted. "Hold the bag up high,
Bobby," she prompted, "We're almost ready to start."
Turning her attention back to the girl, she asked, "Are
you ready, Virginia?"
     "I..I guess so," Ginny said in a small voice.
     "I think you should ask for it."
     "What?" Ginny's answer conveyed shock and
confusion.
     "You heard me, young lady," said Pamela in a
hardening tone.
     "Uh, OK. Go ahead and give it to me," the girl
answered with resignation.
     "You can be more polite than that."
     "Please. Please give it to me."
     "Give you what?"
     "The, uh, enema. Please give me the enema."
     "Very well," said Pamela, flipping the catch on
the clamp. The water felt hot as it rushed into the
girl's ass; she hadn't expected that. The first cramps
came almost immediately, and Pamela, seemingly knowing
Ginny's sensations exactly, stopped the flow for a few
moments. When it resumed, the cramping had diminished.
Ginny tried to relax as her belly slowly expanded.
     Pamela noticed that Ginny's head hung down. "Pull
your head up, young lady," she ordered. "Look straight
ahead at the wall."
     The girl raised her head. The stiff posture her
aunt forced on her made the scene into more of a ritual
for her. She held the position with some difficulty.
The warmth of the water and the heat of the room made
Ginny break into a sweat; Pamela observed with
satisfaction as the girl's back became first slightly
shiny, then thoroughly wet.
     Pamela stopped the flow again; the bag hung limp,
with perhaps a third of the water remaining. She
reached between Ginny's thighs and found her clit
swimming in slippery juices. The older women massaged
the little nubbin with her middle finger, adroitly
exciting the girl, but delivering all the emotional
warmth of a milkmaid at a cow. Ginny felt put down, but
started to move her hips in little circles as her aunt
got to her anyway. "How do you feel, dear?" Pamela
asked solicitously as she removed her hand.
     "Cramps. Full." Ginny forced the words out with
ragged breaths. In truth, the cramps were fading, but
the young girl was beginning to enjoy the part of the
victim.
     "I think you can take some more," said Pamela with
assurance, all the concern gone.
     "No. Please, no."
     Pamela ignore the girl's pleas, and unclamped the
tube. Ginny sighed as she felt the pressure increase.
Perspiration poured down her face and she felt droplets
running down her arms. After what seemed like a long
time, her aunt broke the silence: "That's all dear. Now
we'll take the nozzle out." She wiggled the plastic
tube experimentally. "Clamp down now, I don't want you
to make a mess." Pamela watched as her niece's
sphincter tightened, then slowly pulled out the tube. A
few drops of water ran from Ginny's asshole and
disappeared into the nest of dark hair between her
legs. Now that the tube was gone, Ginny was more
conscious of the pressure in her rectum. She squeezed
extra hard to keep from leaking.

     "Can I...can I go to the bathroom now?" whimpered
the girl.
     "Not just yet, dear," replied her aunt. "I'll tell
you when. Just now I have something else in mind. "Go
down to that end of the bed, Bobby," she said, pointing
to the place where Ginny's hands gripped the sheet.
Bobby looked around for some place to put the bag. "On
the sheet, there," offered Pamela. Bobby awkwardly put
the bag down and draped the hose over Ginny's ankles,
then stood facing the girl in his appointed place. The
older woman came around behind Bobby, reached around
his waist, and pulled the front of his panties down,
allowing his stiff dick to spring out. It bobbed up and
down, finally curving up towards the ceiling a few
inches from Ginny's face. She watched it avidly,
licking her lips in anticipation of what surely was
coming next. Her aunt didn't disappoint her. "Virginia,
I want you to hold the water in while you take Bobby's
penis in your mouth."
     Ginny tried to keep from appearing too eager. She
made her mouth into a tight little moue, and pressed
her lips to the tip of her cousin's cock, letting then
open only enough for her to lick the slit. Without
opening her mouth, she slowly pressed forward, letting
the velvety helmet force its way between her soft,
clinging lips. Moving even more slowly, she worked her
way down the shaft, using her cheeks and tongue
expertly. When she pulled back, Bobby's rod glistened
with her saliva. She tilted her head up and gave the
boy a sexy look, then swallowed him again. His cock
touched the back of her throat, and she tilted her head
back and took it in as far as she could, coming within
an inch of pressing her lips to the curly hairs at the
base of Bobby's pole. Bobby was impressed, just as his
cousin had intended.
     Pamela walked back to check on Ginny's water
retention, and to give the girl's clit another slow
massage. Bobby was getting close now, and he looked
quizzically at his aunt. She shook her head
emphatically. Her nephew sighed; he knew he could hold
on, but it looked like it would be a while before he
got to come. After a few minutes, Ginny realized that
something was wrong. Bobby's prick was, if anything,
even harder, and he was moaning a little, but he hadn't
shown any signs of coming, and Ginny was giving him the
best cock-sucking she could. She knew she was good, but
she didn't seem to be able to get her cousin off. Her
jaw muscles were beginning to ache, and the pressure in
her ass was starting to bother her. She redoubled her
efforts, sweating even more profusely. Perspiration ran
down her breasts and hung in drops from the taut brown
nipples as they danced back and forth, finally falling
onto the sheet with soft plops.
     Bobby was starting to wonder how much longer he
could last. Ginny's mouth was hot and slippery, and the
way she used her tongue was incredible. Then she'd give
him one of those doe-eyed looks with her hair all
matted down with sweat, and he could hardly resist
shooting his wad down her throat. He gritted his teeth.
His whimpers had pain and longing mixed in with the
enjoyment.
     Pamela had been teasing her niece's clit just hard
enough to keep her high, but after about ten minutes,
she took pity on Bobby and picked up the pace. Ginny
started to moan deep in her throat. Bobby looked at his
aunt and formed the word 'now' with his lips. She shook

her head again, and brought her niece to a shuddering
climax. Bobby pulled his cock away when he felt her
mouth tremble, and she cried aloud as she rode a long
rippling set of waves, squeezing as hard as she could
with her sphincter, which somehow enhanced the
experience. Pamela paid close attention, but her new
charge didn't lose a drop.
     When her aunt joined Bobby in front of her,
Ginny's attention had focused more and more on the
pressure in her belly. While she had been occupied in
trying to get Bobby off, her concentration had been
diverted, but now the girl was acutely conscious of her
need to void the fluid that filled her. "Can I go now,
Aunt Pamela?" she pleaded.
     "Soon, dear. But first I want to talk to you. Did
you enjoy Bobby's penis?"
     "Uh, yes, ma'am. I'm sorry if that's the wrong
answer, but I really did."
     "It's OK for you to enjoy what I make you do, but
you are not to become sexually involved in any other
circumstances. Do you understand?"
     "Yes'm." That might be hard to make good on, but
what else could she say?
     "What do you call what you did with Bobby?"
     "You mean what do I call it when I'm talking with
my girlfriends?"
     "That's right."
     "I was sucking his cock."
     "How crude. Well, I'll use your words. Have you
sucked other boys cocks before?"
     "Y..yes'm."
     "I thought you looked like you've had some
practice. Are you a good cock-sucker?"
     "Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that, but I
guess I am."
     "When you suck a boy's cock, does he usually
ejaculate in your mouth?"
     "Uh, sure."
     "And then what do you do?"
     "I swallow it."
     "All of it?"
     "I told you I was a good cock-sucker." Ginny's
confidence was beginning to come back, but she wished
her aunt would get on with whatever this was so she
could get to the bathroom.
     "But Bobby didn't ejaculate, did he?"
     "No."
     "Did you want to taste his semen?"
     "Yeah, but I couldn't make him come."
     "Bobby has learned self-control since he's been
staying with me, and I didn't want him to reach orgasm.
Can you guess why not?"
     "I dunno."
     "I have other plans for him. Those plans involve
you, my dear."
     "They do?"
     "That's right. Why don't you run along to the
bathroom, and while you're sitting on the toilet, you
might be thinking about what those plans might be."
     "I can go now."
     "Yes, Virginia. You've done very well so far."
Pamela stepped back and motioned towards the bathroom
door. Pamela scrambled to her feet and walked quickly
through it, taking tiny steps so she wouldn't loose
control. The door closed, and Bobby and Pamela were
alone.

     Pamela wasted no time. "Take off your panties and
lie on the bed on your back," she ordered Bobby. "I'm
so horny I can't see straight." The boy shucked off his
underwear and tossed the garment on the pillow, then
rolled onto the rubber sheet from the foot of the bed,
coming to a stop with his head towards his aunt, who
pulled up her tight linen skirt, reached under it and,
wriggling with the exertion, pushed her pale peach
panties in uneven increments down her legs. Standing on
one leg at a time, she stepped out of the lacy
undergarment, then held it up and inspected it. "These
things are soaked!" she exclaimed, giving the crotch a
little sniff. "Whew." Pamela arranged her fingers along
the outside of the double-ply material between the legs
of her panties, bent over her nephew, and rubbed the
inner panel over his face, She worked methodically,
making sure that Bobby's forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw,
and lips were uniformly coasted with her essence.
     Tossing her underwear aside, Pamela scissored her
legs over the boy, and sat on his chest facing his
head. She leaned forward and grabbed his hair, pulling
herself forward as she worked her knees up to his
shoulders. Soon Bobby's face was engulfed in his aunt's
hairy, wet cunt. "No finesse, kid, just get me off,"
she hissed. Bobby had already found her clit, and he
worked it rapidly back and forth with the tip on his
tongue. Pamela's hips jerked back and forth urgently.
She had no thought of anything but her coming
satisfaction. Sometimes she found herself grinding her
pussy into her nephew's face so hard that he could
barely move his tongue. Now and then her motions were
so wild that she rubbed her nubbin against his jaw or
his upper lip. That felt good, too, but she centered
herself so she could thrust her clit at the boy's eager
tongue and find the release she craved. Her motions
grew more frenetic, and finally she gave a muffled cry
and went rigid, her fingers gripping Bobby's hair
painfully as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure
flooded her body. She relaxed for only a few seconds
before she was back with her hot cunt pressed against
her nephew's mouth. "Again," she ordered fiercely.
Bobby did his best.
     It was many minutes before Ginny emerged from the
bathroom. Several times she had thought she was done,
only to feel a new set of cramps that forced her to sit
back down. After several attempts, she finally walked
over to the sink without feeling the need to rush back
to the toilet. She'd stopped perspiring, and she felt
sticky where her sweat was beginning to dry. She raised
one arm and took a whiff of her armpit. Geez, she
thought, I smell like a goat. Maybe I should wash up.
But it had taken so long that she was too embarrassed
to take any more time, so she contented herself with
washing her hands.
     She smiled weakly as she entered the bedroom. Her
aunt was standing by the bed with her arms crossed,
looking stern. Bobby was naked, his erection as big as
ever. His lips were puffy and red, and his eyes were
just a shade unfocused. Ginny wondered what had
happened while she was occupied in the bathroom. She
glanced at the bed and saw two pairs of panties on the
pillow, and was pretty sure she knew. I'd like to sit
on that stud's face myself, she thought. I'll bet he
knows what to do with that sweet tongue. Look at her,
though. She's so cool about the whole thing. You'd
never know what happened from looking at her.

     Pamela brought her out of her reverie. "Have you
thought about what I said?"
     Ginny drew a blank. All the time in the bathroom
she had been thinking only of her immediate needs. "Uh,
I forgot," she mumbled.
     "It was about Bobby." Pamela was annoyed; she'd
wanted her niece to worry while she was on the john.
     "Oh, yeah. You've got plans for Bobby and me,"
Ginny answered nonchalantly. She knew she had screwed
up, but she didn't want to grovel.
     Pamela's tone grew more conciliatory, as if she'd
decided not to make an issue of it. "Well, maybe you'll
like it. Would you like to have intercourse with
Bobby?"
     "Will you punish me if I say the wrong thing?"
     "No, dear. Just tell me the truth."
     Ginny shot a hot glance at Bobby. "Well, yeah, I'd
like to try some of that." Bobby did look pretty good,
standing there with his muscles tautly flexed and his
enormous dick bobbing up and down.
     "You're in luck, then."
     This was too easy. Ginny took a few steps towards
her cousin, swinging her hips. "I guess it's you and
me, big boy."
     "Just hold it right there, young lady. We're going
to do this my way."
     The girl turned back to her aunt. "OK," she said
casually, holding out her hands palms up.
     Pamela found the Vaseline jar. "Here," she
ordered, ""Put some of this on Bobby's penis."
     Ginny's hands went automatically to the jar, but
she stopped with her eyes wide. "What's he need this
for?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
     "Your rectum doesn't produce any lubrication,
dear, so we need to add some," the older woman
explained patiently, as if this were a sex-education
class.
     "But he's too big!" the young girl wailed.
     "Have you ever taken a boy there?"
     "Never."
     "That's funny, considering the range of your other
sexual appetites. Well, you'll be surprised what you
can do." Pamela stopped, then looked as if she'd had an
idea. "Never mind that right now," she said, taking
back the jar. "Lie down on the bed on your back with
your head towards me." When Ginny had complied, Pamela
beckoned Bobby over and arranged him straddling his
cousin on his hands and knees. He looked down into her
eyes, which shone with nervous anticipation. The older
woman pulled a straight chair over to the bedside, sat
in it, and ordered: "Young lady, put your hands over
your head." After untangling her arms from Bobby's,
Ginny did as she was told. She felt her aunt grip her
wrists and hold her arms in place. "Now Bobby," she
said smoothly, "Before you introduce your cousin to the
delights of anal intercourse, I think you should clean
her up." The boy looked up quizzically. "She got all
sweaty during her enema," his aunt continued. "She
really needs a bath. Maybe not a bath in a tub, but
some kind of bath. I think you should give her a bath
with your tongue. Lick all that sweat off, and get her
nice and clean before you take her up the anus. Start
with her forehead. That's a good boy."
     The dried perspiration felt gritty as Bobby licked
Ginny's face. When he got to her lips he watched her
eyes. It seemed shockingly intimate to run his tongue

over his cousin's parted lips -- somehow more personal
than having her suck his cock. Bobby moved down to
Ginny's salty neck. "Lick her armpits," urged Pamela,
gripping her niece's wrists harder.
     Ginny though sure that her smelly pits would turn
Bobby off, but he lapped them avidly, working his
tongue against her short stubble until no salt taste
remained. She wished she'd shaved that day. His cock
trailed across her belly as he worked, leaving a little
trail of pre-come like a snail track. She liked the way
it felt heavy and massive as it flopped against her.
Bobby licked Ginny's ribcage and worked his way up to
her breasts, caressing her soft mounds until he took
one engorged nipple into his mouth. "Bite it," directed
his aunt. Ginny struggled a little as Bobby gripped his
cousin's hard little nub between his teeth and twisted
his head from side to side, elongating the crinkled
brown flesh and making her breast sway back and forth.
"A little harder," ordered Pamela.
     "Ouch," complained Ginny as Bobby complied, "That
hurts."
     "If you don't change your ways," said Pamela
evenly, "Lots of things are going to hurt. Do the other
one, Bobby."
     Bobby worried his cousin's nipple while she
writhed on the bed in an agony of mixed feelings. The
idea of being controlled attracted and repelled her.
She was comfortable being the one giving the orders,
and being on the other end confused and frightened her.
But at the same time, it turned her on. She was
beginning to realize how much it excited her, and was
ashamed of it. Her aunt's hands bit into her wrists,
Bobby's teeth nipped at her sensitive flesh, and her
pussy was drenched.
     "Lower now," prompted Pamela, and Bobby lapped at
Ginny's flat belly, pausing to root around in her navel
before dropping into her thick mass of pubic hair. He
skipped her pussy lips and licked at the inside of her
sticky thighs, as she spread her legs involuntarily.
The young girl's knees rose higher off the bed as Bobby
worked his way up into her dark nest. Her odor filled
his nostrils as he lapped at her lips until they
separated. She moaned as he found her clit. "Don't let
her climax," cautioned his aunt as Bobby teased the
hard little protrusion. Bobby carefully licked as
Ginny's hips thrust up and down.
     "Let's turn her over," Pamela suggested, much
sooner than the girl would have liked. Bobby stood up
long enough to roll his cousin onto her face, them
knelt over her again. "Her buttocks," directed the
older woman, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders
and pressing them into the bed. Bobby lapped Ginny's
buns with broad strokes. "In the crack," came the
command, and Bobby started at the top and licked his
way down, spreading Ginny's cheeks with both hands as
the girl lifted her hips off the bed. "Now her anus,"
instructed Pamela. Bobby drove his tongue into his
cousin's tight little asshole. He couldn't get very
far, but he was having a great time trying. "Did she
clean herself well?" asked his aunt.
     "Uh-huh," mumbled the boy, not pausing in his
task. There was just a little lubricant remaining.
     The soft probings of Bobby's tongue delighted
Ginny; she worked her knees forward so he could go
deeper. When Pamela saw what was happening, she let go
of her niece's shoulders and helped the girl up to her

hands and knees. Bobby bore in deeper as his cousin's
tight little sphincter relaxed under his ministrations.
A low moan issued from Ginny's slack lips.
     "Head up, girl," prompted Pamela, "I want to see
your face." The girl obeyed, and her aunt reached
between her legs, stroked her clit, and watched her
eyes unfocus. After a minute, Pamela backed away and
found the Vaseline jar and pushed Bobby's forehead away
from Ginny. Reluctantly, he straighten up and took the
container. He was more gentle with his cousin this time
as he coated her anal passage with grease. He put a
generous dollop on his dick and rubbed it in as he
walked forward on his knees and put one hand on Ginny's
hips.
     Pamela had retaken her seat in front of Ginny when
Bobby first pressed the swollen tip of his cock to his
cousin's puckered brown ring. The girl gave a start and
twisted her head to one side, but Pamela held her
niece's cheeks between her hands and forced the girl to
look at her. Ginny's eyes grew wide as Bobby pressed
forward, holding down his dick with his thumb. The
helmet flattened against Ginny's tense sphincter. Bobby
pressed harder, but nothing happened. "She's real
tight, Aunt Pamela," he complained as he struggled.
     "He's going to push his penis all the way up your
little virgin anus, young lady, whether you like it or
not," said Pamela sternly. "It'll be easier for you if
you relax, but he's going to take you either way."
     Ginny let out her breath and tried to be calm.
After a few seconds, Bobby felt her opening dilate
enough to admit the head of his dick. He kept up the
pressure as he watched it slip smoothly inside, Ginny
cried out and her muscle spasmed around her cousin's
rod: it hurt, and she loosened her grip. Bobby fed her
another inch, then fastened both his hands on the bony
protuberances of his cousin's pelvis. Gripping her
there for support, he felt strong and powerful as he
forced another inch of meat up her asshole.
     "That's enough for now," said Pamela as she
reached once more for her niece's clit, "Just take
short strokes there." Bobby moved his dick in and out
an inch or so at a time, enjoying the sight of it
disappearing up his cousin's rectum. Ginny moaned and
tossed her head from side to side, but her aunt
steadied it with one hand under her chin.
     Ginny's initial hurt and fear gave way to a wild
excitement as her aunt teased her love button while her
cousin drilled her butt. "Oh shit, that's good," she
whimpered.
     "I thought you'd learn to like it," smirked
Pamela. "Give her the rest, Bobby, but slowly."
     Bobby began to move in a couple of inches, then
out one. Before long, his pubic hair was flattened
against his cousin's compact little buns and she was in
the grip of the most powerful sexual experience of her
life. Her cousin's dick felt huge; it seemed like it
filled her whole insides. She held her head still for
her aunt and looked deeply into her intense eyes. The
stern look on Pamela's face made Ginny want to show her
how disciplined she could be, and somehow that made the
feeling of being fucked in the ass even more powerful.
The feelings built on themselves, going round in a
circle until the patient, skillful fingers on her clit
drove the girl into a screaming orgasm. Even in the
midst of her ecstasy, she held her head rigid, her eyes
locked on her aunt's. Pamela kissed her full on the

mouth, her hot, slippery tongue darting possessively in
and out. Ginny hesitated, then returned the kiss
passionately as the waves of sensation flowed through
her body and drowned her qualms about lesbian behavior.
Her cousin's dick rammed up her butt, her aunt's tongue
in her mouth -- it was so nasty and hot and wild and
strong that it made her dizzy.
     Ginny's orgasm triggered Bobby's and he shot thick
ropes of sperm into her clinging passage; she barely
felt his cock twitch and shoot, so overcome was she.
Ginny collapsed on the bed with Bobby still in her ass,
sweaty and satiated. Pamela stroked her matted hair as
she whimpered quietly. With a groan, Bobby pushed
himself up, gradually withdrawing his pole from his
cousin's asshole; the orifice gaped open for a few
seconds before squeezing shut slowly. Pamela rolled her
niece onto her back and motioned for Bobby to straddle
her. His half-hard cock lolled in her face, smelling
faintly of shit. Ginny looked up at Pamela with weary
alarm. Would it ever end? "Do I have to..."
     "Yes, dear," instructed Pamela, quietly but
firmly.
     The girl meekly captured the tip in her mouth and
bobbed her head up and down. She was tired, she was
hot, she was weak, but she was beaten -- she'd do
whatever her aunt said. She took a kind of pleasure in
her degradation as her cousin's soiled cock grew and
hardened in her mouth. Bobby looked down and watched
Ginny work on his dick. She lifted her head off the bed
as she worked her mouth onto his tool, then eased back,
the strain showing in the tendons that stood out from
her neck. She tried to get a hand free so she could
guide Bobby's cock into her mouth, but his knees were
outside her arms. He felt her struggling, but didn't
move to help free her hand; it was too exciting to
watch her meekly service him. He looked at Pamela, and
she nodded her head. Bobby was glad; he had worked so
hard before to keep from shooting off in his cousin's
hot mouth, and now he'd get the chance. He felt the
pressure build as Ginny earnestly sucked him. With a
groan he gave her the first thick fountain. The girl's
eyes opened wide -- she hadn't expected him to come
again so soon -- but she dutifully swallowed it all,
and kept moving up and down until she had milked him of
the last drop.
     Pamela helped Bobby up. "Take her to her room and
let her get cleaned up," she instructed. "Then come
back here. I want to use your mouth for a while."

To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela18.txt


Article 32699 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:54:34 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 18/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)

                     SIXTEEN
"I want you to wear this all the time, but only on the
days when I tell you," said Pamela, holding up the slim
cream-colored object. "If you get too used to it, it
won't have the same effect."
     Ginny stared at the butt plug. It wasn't very big,
only four inches long and maybe three-quarters of an
inch in diameter at the widest point. It tapered to a
blunt point on one end, and to half-inch cylinder that
flared into a flat oblong on the other. She could see
that the pressure of her sphincter on the narrow part
next to the flat end would hold the thing firmly in her
ass. "When I go out?"

     "Yes," Pamela replied firmly. "You may remove it
to defecate and for sports, but I want it in place all
the rest of the time."
     "All right," was the meek reply.
     "I will put it in and take it out when you're
home," continued Pamela.
     "As you wish."
     "Now, let's get started," said Pamela, briskly
rubbing her hands together. "Stand up."
     Ginny faced her aunt, her eyes wary.
     "Turn around."
     "Yes ma'am." Ginny faced the bed.
     "Bend over. Legs straight. Grab the backs of your
calves with your hands and press your chest to your
thighs."
     Ginny, proud of her flexibility, obeyed. Pamela
flicked the girl's skirt up across her back, exposing
taut young buns encased in sheer white nylon. The older
woman set down the butt plug, moved both hands to the
thin elastic waistband, and slowly rolled it downwards,
gradually revealing Ginny's tanned skin, the tops of
her white buttocks, the dark crevice, and finally her
hairy mount, a fringed clam just pouting open. Pamela
lowered the waistband to mid-thigh, but the crotch,
caught between Ginny's pressed-together legs, hung up
just below her pussy. Pamela squeezed a little gel into
her palm and worked it into the middle finger of her
right hand, then trailed the greasy digit up and down
the crack of niece's ass. Ginny gave a little start
when the older woman first scratched her sphincter with
an exploring nail, but controlled herself, breathing
more rapidly because of the tension and the effort it
took to hold herself in position. Murmuring to herself
with little expressions of minor approval or
disapproval, Pamela conducted a patient exploration of
Ginny's rectum, touching, probing, palpating until the
girl thought she'd never finish. Pamela greased up the
butt plug, and slid it back and forth over the
sensitive skin between Ginny's asshole and her cunt,
each time bringing it closer and closer to the tight
little rosette. Ginny was frantic with anticipation:
she wished her aunt would hurry up and shove the damn
thing up her ass and be done with it.
     Pamela finally started to work the spongy plug up
her niece's brown bottomhole. She got it most of the
way in, then said, "Oh, that's not it," and pulled it
out. It took several more false starts before the thing
was lodged firmly up the girl's backside. Pamela
smiled, pulled Ginny's panties back into place, put her
thumb on top of the flat part of the butt plug, and
pressed hard. Ginny gave a muffled yelp, and almost
fell onto the bed. Pamela slowly worked all the
wrinkles out of the panties, lowered Ginny's skirt, and
took a minute to make sure that it was properly
arranged.
     Finally, the woman stepped back. ."You may rise,"
she said tonelessly.
     Ginny straightened up. Her hamstrings hurt.
     "Turn around."
     Ginny faced her aunt.
     "Can you feel that?"
     "Yes, ma'am."
     "Does it feel good?"
     "Uh.. Do you want the truth?"
     "Yes. Tell me exactly how it feels."

     "I dunno. It feels weird 'cause it feels kinda
like it does when I'm about to shit. But it doesn't
hurt or anything. It makes me feel real full back
there. I..I kinda like it now, but I dunno how it'll
feel after awhile."
     "That's nice. Whenever you notice it, I want you
to think of who put it there. And who's the only one
who can take it out, at least as long as you're home."
                *           *             *
Later that evening, Ginny realized she had to move her
bowels. She started for the bathroom, but remembered
what her aunt had said. Did she really want to be
bothered for that? It didn't seem right, but she was
beginning to learn that it was best to take her aunt's
orders literally. The girl changed course, and paused
before Pamela's bedroom door, rehearsing what to say.
Please, Aunt Pamela, take out the plug? Aunt Pamela, I
need to take a shit. It was all so embarrassing. The
girl knocked softly on the door.
     After a minute, Pamela pulled it ajar. "Yes?" she
said as if Ginny had interrupted something important.
     "Uh, I need to, like, go to the bathroom."
     "Do you need to defecate?" Pamela corrected.
     "Yes'm"
     "Follow me." Pamela turned on her heel and lead
her niece to her bathroom. "Assume the position," she
said curtly.
     Ginny drew a blank. "Huh?"
     "Bend over, girl, like you did this afternoon,"
said Pamela impatiently.
     Ginny turned so her head wouldn't hit the counter
and put her it against her knees. Pamela tossed the
skirt up, pulled down the pants, and fumbled with the
plastic plug, twisting it back and forth, slowly
pulling it out and dropping it in the sink.
     "Rise." instructed the older woman.
     As Ginny straightened up she glanced at the plug.
The beige plastic was blotched with brown patches. The
girl blushed. She pulled up her panties and started for
the door, but Pamela held up her hand.
     "Huh?" said the confused girl with more of the
scintillating repartee that she had displayed since
she'd first knock on her aunt's door.
     "Over there," said Pamela, pointing at the
commode.
     Ginny stumbled to the toilet. Her aunt watched her
sternly as she pushed her pants down, pulled up the
back of her skirt, and sat. Her skirt covered her
thighs, and she took a little comfort that Pamela
couldn't actually watch her shit. She strained for a
few seconds, then relaxed. The splash seemed very loud.
Ginny's blush deepened. Pamela watched
unsympathetically as the girl finished, wiped, and
stood. Then the older woman washed and greased the
plug, and made Ginny stand in the same subordinate
position while she inserted it. As usual, it took a
while to get it right. Pamela had used hot water for
the washing, and Ginny's asshole felt full and warm as
her aunt ushered her from the room. The butt plug
wobbled from side to side as she walked down the hall.
Ginny tightened her asshole so she could feel it
better. She could hardly wait to get into bed and play

with herself while she felt the delicious full feeling
in her ass.
                *           *             *
"I'm home," called Ellen as she breezed through the
door. Something smelled good. She followed her nose to
the kitchen. Butch was peeling vegetables at the sink,
dressed in a white, frilly apron and nothing else. A
pot of spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove; Ellen was
making sure her husband had a thorough grounding in
culinary basics before she let him try out more
advanced recipes. She ran a proprietary hand over his
furry buns, then let her fingers dart between his legs
and nip at the fuzzy sack. She got no reaction, so she
switched to her fingernails, pinching the wrinkled skin
until Butch flinched. As she stepped away, Ellen looked
to see what kind of response she'd gotten. Sure enough,
the apron stood out in front as if supported by a
miniature tent pole.
     "I'm going to take a bath," she said airily as she
walked away. "In about fifteen minutes, you can come in
and give me a pedicure."
     Butch silently continued to peel vegetables.
                *           *             *
Acutely conscious of the intrusive, but somehow
satisfying, presence of the plug in her pert teen-aged
bottom, Ginny chatted idly with Mr. Rudolph. Class
would start soon, but she'd gotten there early to spend
a couple of minutes with the sexy English teacher. The
young girl tightened her buttocks and squeezed her
sphincter around the rubbery plastic, feeling
deliciously and secretly nasty. She leaned a little too
close and put her hand against the man's upper arm as
she joshed him about his chaperoning at the last dance.
Rudolph didn't pull away, even when the touch went on
for far too long.
     The other kids started to come in, and Ginny found
her seat. All during class she fantasized about her
teacher. What if I did something wrong, so wrong that
he'd want to spank me? I'd be staying after school, the
only one, and even though I was already in detention,
I'd squirm and pout and not pay attention. He'd call me
up to his desk and give me a lecture. I'd just hit him
with some smart remark, and that would piss him off so
much he'd want to swat me. He'd say something about it
and I'd come back with, "I've been such a bad girl, I
deserve it." He'd make me bend over the desk and he'd
pull up my dress and kinda slide one hand over my ass,
just checking it out. Then he'd pull down my pants and
he'd see the butt plug. Would he know what it was?
Let's say he would. Then he'd ask me why I was wearing
it, and I'd tell him my aunt made me. He ask why, and
I'd say to keep me in line. He'd make some crack about
it not doing much good and he'd give me a few swats.
I'd cry and beg, but he'd just go on for a while, then
he'd slow down, running his hand down to wiggle the
butt plug between each stroke. Pretty soon he'd just be
wiggling the plug, and then he'd slip his hand between
my legs and I'd cover it with my love juice. He'd say

he had something else to teach me and I'd say, "Oh,
please, Mr. Rudolph, please." He'd drop his pants and
shorts and he'd fuck me right there, me bent over the
desk and him standing behind me with his pants around
his ankles. He'd slam his prick up my pussy and waggle
the plug with his thumb and I'd come, then he'd make me
kneel on the floor and suck him till he squirted in my
mouth.
     The bell rang. "Thanks for the lesson," said Ginny
as she left, never noticing the change in her imagined
relationship with her teacher.
                *           *             *
Butch lay spread-eagled on the bed, his wrists and
ankles tied to the legs. The room was dark, and he
didn't know how long he'd been there. Two or three
hours, seemed about right, but Ellen had turned the
clock so he couldn't see the face. He tried anyway,
just for something to do. The plastic sheet underneath
him crinkled as he shifted his weight, sticking
uncomfortably to his skin. He could see the faint pink
glow from the clock face shining on the wall. He tried
to swear, but he couldn't move his tongue very well
with his mouth full of his wife's dirty panties, and
his words came out as muffled grunts. Without much
hope, he tried to spit the soiled underwear out, but
the strap that bisected his mouth and went around his
neck just bit into his lips. As if all that wasn't
enough, he had to pee. He'd noticed it right after
Ellen had left the room, and it was getting worse. He
hoped that his wife wouldn't just leave him here all
night; he'd never be able to hold out that long, and
he'd be mortified if she came back and found him lying
in a pool of his own piss. She might do it, though --
there seemed to be no limit of what she'd do. Maybe
that's what the sheet was for. It had been on the bed
when she called him into the bedroom. She'd laid him
out on it, tied him up, ridden his tongue to several
orgasms, then stuffed him with the gag, turned out the
lights, and left without a word.
     The stocky man tensed his muscles at the sound of
footsteps in the hall. They approached the door -- the
sound of the heels that Ellen had been wearing lately
was unmistakable -- and paused for a minute. At last,
Butch began to hope for relief. Slowly, the steps
receded back down the hallway. Butch's need became all
the more acute since he'd allowed himself to think his
privations were almost over. Maybe I should just let
go, he thought. But she'll probably get pissed off.
Yeah, pissed off, that's the right word. What can she
do? Well, for starters, she could leave me tied up til
hell freezes over. Lessee, it's Friday night. If she
wanted to be nasty about it, she could leave me here
until Monday morning. God, I'd be pretty disgusting by
then, wouldn't I? I better keep holding out...
     It was probably a hour before Ellen came back, but
it seemed like forever. Butch lay tense and hurting on
the bed as the sliver of light from the doorway grew
and spread. He blinked his eyes and peered owlishly at
his wife, silhouetted with her diaphanous wrap glowing
like a cloud at sunset. She looked like some kind of
goddess in a romantic painting, although most artists

wouldn't have allowed the light coming between her legs
to limn them so starkly.
     "And how are we doing?" she asked with mock
solicitude.
     "Mmph."
     "Oh, yeah. You aren't going to be very talkative,
are you? I'll just ask you simple questions." She came
over and jerked the cord holding one of Butch's ankles.
"Hurt?"
     "Huh-uh."
     "That's good." Ellen walked to the head of the
bed, turned on the light, and reached for the rope
holding Butch's far arm. She had to lean across his
body to get to it; the gossamer fabric of her gown
slipped sensuously over his chest and face. Delicate
perfume filled his nostrils. Ellen bent lower, gripping
his wrist to keep from falling, and one heavy breast
brushed across her husband's lips. He tried to kiss it,
but he could barely move his mouth.
     "Well," she said, straightening up, "You seem to
be OK."
     Butch shook his head and made a negative whine.
     "No? You look fine to me. Ropes tight, but no
chafing. Gag in place. Crotch against your tongue so
you get a good taste. Nice soft bed. Big hard-on. What
else could you want?" She had a pretty good idea. In
fact, she'd set things up for the purpose, but it was
fun to stretch things out.
     Butch flicked his head towards his hips, his eyes
locked pleadingly on his wife's, as if somehow he could
communicate his need that way. Ellen walked to the foot
of the bed and sat down between her husband's legs.
"Something wrong?"
     He nodded emphatically.
     "Is it here?" she asked, running her hand lightly
over his lower belly.
     "Uh-huh."
     She took his pole lightly in her hand. "Here?"
     Butch looked confused, paused, and finally shook
his head weakly.
     "It must be here, then," she said, fondling his
balls.
     "Huh-uh." The reply was delivered with a
despairing inflection.
     Ellen's brow wrinkled as she faked bewilderment.
"Oh, I've got an idea!" she announced, moving up on the
bed and rising to her knees.
     Butch groaned. He was sure now that his wife was
playing with him, and he figured that her lack of any
genuine sympathy meant that he wasn't going to get any
relief any time soon.
     Brushing her husband's cock out of the way as if
it were just a minor inconvenience, Ellen placed one
hand flat on her husband's lower belly. "This hurt?,"
she said clinically as she pressed down.
     Butch groaned in pain.
     "Are you sure?" said his wife, leaning harder on
his tender abdomen.
     Another moan, this one louder.
     "Oh, really?" she said, moving her hand in little
circles.
     Butch whimpered as the weight moved back and forth
over his distended bladder.
     "You know, I think I've got it," she exclaimed
with the air of a bright school girl in a science
class.

     Butch's whines died down a little while his wife's
palm kept up its insistent pressure.
     "Your bladder's full, isn't it?" Ellen put her
fingertips together and pressed them into her husband's
tender belly. His groan affirmed her diagnosis. "Would
you like to take a piss, honey?" she asked
solicitously.
     Frenetic nods from the other end of the bed.
     "That'd feel real good, huh?"
     The answering motions were somewhat slower as
Butch realized that she was jerking his chain again.
     "Well, I think you're gonna have to hold it for a
while longer."
     A little whimper.
     "Tell you what, though -- I'll take your mind off
of it." Ellen rose to her feet, shrugged her way out of
her gown, and tossed the gauzy garment in the air.
     Butch saw it float over his face, filling his
field of view with white. It settled down onto his
cheeks and chest; he could see nothing but a soft glow.
The perfume clinging to the robe filled his nostrils.
He felt the bed shift; Ellen must be back between his
kegs. Her hair brushed over his hips and belly. He felt
her hands press once more on his full bladder, causing
new waves of raw sensation to wash over him.
     Suddenly, her mouth was upon him, feeling
incredibly hot on his sensitive cock. She kneaded his
belly as she sucked him, and the combination of the
painful twinges from his bladder and his reaction to
Ellen's exquisite, practiced mouth reinforced each
other in some strange way. He writhed against the
restraints as his wife bobbed her head up and down,
insistently driving him towards his release. All his
senses were under his wife's control. He saw nothing
but formless white light, tasted nothing but the
slightly-salty crotch of her soiled underwear, smelled
nothing but her musk and her perfume, her nothing but
the rustle of his body on the plastic sheet, the creak
of the ropes as her pulled against them, his own ragged
breathing, and his cries and whimpers. And he felt
nothing but Ellen's rapacious mouth and her cruel
manipulations of his sore belly.
     When he came, it seemed as though she tore the
orgasm from the deepest recesses of his body. Her
fingers pressed harder and harder, squeezing and
pressing, digging and massaging; her mouth sucked and
her teeth nipped until he couldn't tell the pleasure
from the pain; it all blended together into one intense
all-enveloping feeling. He screamed into his gag as his
wife sucked the ropy spurts from his cock.
     She gave him no rest. He felt her slither up his
body, her heavy breasts on his belly, her legs
straddling his pelvis, and, finally, her weight
settling painfully onto his belly as she sat down hard,
squeezing his slithery cock between her buttocks. She
drew the gown aside, and leaned over her helpless
husband, her hands pressing into his shoulders. Butch
stared at his wife's face: her triumphant smile, a
little come dripping from the corner of her mouth, her
hair in tousled disarray, her eyes on fire. She
wriggled her hips and biting spasms radiated from his
groin. Reveling in his agony, Ellen bounced up and down
as Butch moaned.
     "How's that feel, baby?" she taunted him.
     Butch shook his head from side to side, his eyes
wide. Would she ride him 'til he burst? He feared her

when she was like this, but he couldn't wait for
whatever depravity came next.
     But waiting was just what Ellen had in mind. She
rolled away, retrieved her gown, slipped it on with a
sexy little wiggle, and flicked off the lights as she
disappeared out the door. Over a cup of coffee in the
kitchen, she planned her next moves. Would Butch be
able to hold out, or would she find him humiliatingly
defiled when she returned? If she did, what punishment
would she exact? And what if he managed to control
himself? Should he get a reward? Or just more
discipline? She figured she had about a hour to work it
all out, and she had a bunch of magazines full of
interesting ideas. Decisions, decisions; this mistress
stuff was hard work.
     The end of the hour found Butch winning the battle
with his body. He'd told himself he'd be damned if he'd
piss all over himself, even though he had a delicious
little frisson every time he wondered what his wife
would do to him if he soiled himself. He told himself
it would be a long time and concentrated. The immediate
urge to urinate went away even as the dull ache in his
belly grew. His cock fell flaccid to his belly, filling
and twitching occasionally as the flavor of the well-
used panties in his mouth reminded him of his captor.
He was in a tumescent phase when he heard the door open
and blinked at the sudden light.
     Ellen sniffed as she crossed the threshold.
Nothing. Time for Plan A. She approached the bed
carrying something. "See these?" she said playfully,
holding up some white nylon.
     "Mmph?" answered her confused husband.
     "Know what they are?"
     A shake of the head.
     "You ought to; I found them in an ad in the back
of one of your dirty magazines."
     Butch stared with interest but no recognition.
     "Maybe if I put them on..." she mused, tossing her
gown on a chair and stepping into what turned out to be
a garment. "Like it?" she trilled, tying the waist with
a drawstring, then turning around and stopping with her
legs apart and her hand on her hips. The white nylon
fit loosely around her hips like old-fashioned panties,
but a clump of material dangled obscenely between her
legs like a giant limp penis. "Now you know, right?"
     Another shake of the head.
     "Aw, come on. I thought you read those things from
cover to cover."
     Just a blank look.
     "Well they came with instructions. This part down
here..." She reached down and shook the long flag.
"...goes over your head. And there's an opening between
that part and my crotch. So I cover you up so you can't
see, or smell, or taste anything but me, then I feed
you whatever part of me I want. For as long as I want.
And that's your whole world." Ellen smiled slyly. "It's
supposed to last a long time." She reached down and
drew the gag from Butch's mouth, holding the soggy
panties daintily with her thumb and forefinger. Tossing
them aside, she put one knee on the bed and pivoted on
it as she swung into a crouch, facing her husband's
feet with her hips poised above his face. Ellen reached
between her legs and lifted the sack off Butch's face.
Finding the opening in the end, she walked backwards on
her knees and, using both hands, worked the sack over
the man's head. She had to scoot forward again as she

encased him, then the material at her crotch was
twisted around, preventing her from applying her crotch
where it would do the most good. She pulled and tugged
the cloth into position, and tightened the drawstring
around Butch's neck. Neatness counts, huh? How about a
nice, even bow. Too tight? No, just enough to remind
him of his place. "Pucker up, Buster," she grunted, and
wriggled until she could feel Butch's lips inside hers.
She moved from side to side, slipping easily on the
generous coating of pussy juice, then she settled into
position. It felt nice to swallow him up with her
slippery cunt.
     At first, Ellen's hairy brown asshole squashed her
husband's nose. He turned his head fractionally from
side to side, hoping to make it easier to breathe, but
the result was that his nose slipped inside the greasy
serrated opening. Ellen reacted by squirming a little
herself; finding her husband's proboscis fully
inserted, she squeezed it with her sphincter, enjoying
this new way to tweak his nose. All this time, Butch
wasn't getting any air. He gave out a muffled moan,
which Ellen ignored in favor of concentrating on the
feeling of her husband's nostrils deliciously embedded
in her fundament. After two or three more bleats, each
escalating in pitch and intensity, Ellen rolled forward
enough for Butch to breathe air ripened by its
proximity to her asshole. The bound man gasped and
snorted; after a while his respiration returned to
normal.
     Since Ellen didn't appear to be going anywhere,
Butch took stock. Lessee, I can't see anything but this
damn white stuff. I can barely breathe. I'm trussed up
like a turkey. And I've got to piss so bad my whole
belly hurts. Then why am I stiff as a poker? Damn, that
woman's got a nice asshole. I could sniff it for hours.
Probably will, too... As the minutes dragged on,
Butch's breath warmed the small volume of air. Ellen
started to sweat, and her perspiration dripped down the
crack of her ass and gathered in the folds of her dark-
brown rosette. Her pussy started to flow, too, most of
the juices trickling into Butch's mouth, but some
oozing out onto his cheeks, making them slick. She
resisted the urge to let him at her clit; she'd have to
cock her ass away from his nose, and besides she wanted
him completely passive. Droplets dripped from Ellen's
sweaty asshole on to her husband's nose. He started to
sweat as well.
     Ellen watched the beads form on Butch's chest.
Soon his belly gleamed. She felt his exhalations
against her asshole and waited. After a while the
perspiration began to form little paths. Ellen scooped
up some with her hand, reached down and wrapped her
sweaty fingers around his dick. She jerked him off
smoothly and dispassionately. Her clinical, practiced
manipulations soon produced results. Much sooner than
he would have liked, Butch spurted, and directed his
ejaculations onto his upper belly with a cruel twist of
her wrist. Then she cocked her hips and slipped her
asshole firmly over her husband's mouth. "Tongue," she
commanded coldly. When she felt it working inside her,
she sat back firmly, feeling Butch's cheeks inside
hers. She tightened her ass, squeezing his face, then
relaxed again, trying to fit her asshole over his mouth
as far as she could. She found a good position and held
it for half an hour as her husband slowly and
thoroughly licked the inside of her brown ring, pausing

occasionally as his tongue cramped, but resuming when
she pinched his balls.
     Ellen scooped up a handful of the thick white
cream from Butch's earlier ejaculation, and spread it
on his cock. Once more she brought him off, squeezing
him uncomfortably hard, moving her hand relentlessly,
and bearing down so hard with her ass that Butch could
barely breathe. Before his sighs diminished, she had
rotated her hips again so she could feed him her now-
sopping clit. Butch obediantly tongued it as the pussy
juice dripped down onto his face. Ellen made herself
hold still as she took her first orgasm. "Keep going,"
she ordered coldly when Butch tried to stop. Riding her
husband's weakening tongue, she rose to a plateau
punctuated by little, quivering spasms. She let one
grow, relaxed a moment, then ground her cunt cruelly
into Butch's mouth as she rose to a thundering
crescendo.
     Nothing but Ellen's ragged breathing could be
heard as she slumped over her husband, her juices
flowing copiously onto his sodden face. She leaned
forward and jerked him off one more time. It took much
longer; Ellen had to return to Butch's belly several
times for another load of sweat and spunk so she could
grease him up. Eventually, she was rewarded with a thin
stream of watery come. She continued to pull on Butch's
cock until it softened considerably, ignoring his
indrawn hisses of complaint as her agile fingers
tortured his sensitive prick.
     Finally, she untied the draw string around her
waist and stepped out of the panties, leaving them in a
heap on her husband's face as she left the room,
leaving Butch to contemplate his fate for a few more
minutes.
     When she returned, she was carrying a flat baking
dish, which she positioned between the bound man's
outspread legs. She loosened the tie, pulled the
panties off his face, and inspected the fine mixture of
his sweat, her sweat, and her cunt juice. "How's your
bladder?" she asked.
     "God, it hurts."
     "Well, since you weren't too bad an ass-licker, I
might let you have some relief. Would you like that?"
      "Oh, yes. Yes, please."
     "You'll have to wait until I say it's OK," she
cautioned.
     "Anything."
     "Alright," she said, flopping his limp prick into
the dish, "Get ready."
     "You're not gonna let me up?"
     Ellen fingered her husband's limp cock. "No, Babe,
I like you all tied up like this. I might not let you
up for days. But I will let you pee. If you're good.
First, you gotta ask nice."
     He didn't think twice about groveling. "Please,
Honey. Please let me piss."
     Her fingers kept up their cool manipulations.
"Please, who?"
     A wave of embarrassment washed over Butch as he
realized that his wife was going to hold his dick while
he pissed in the dish. Somehow it made him seem so
helpless. He had to get some relief, though. "Please,
Mistress. I need to go so bad."
     "OK, you can let go..."
     Butch let his muscles relax. A warm swimming
sensation filled his loins.

     "...But you have to say 'Mistress Ellen.'"
     Butch tried to regain control, but it was too
late. His cock bucked weakly in his wife's hand and a
thick spurt of yellow urine dampened her fingers.
     "You slimeball!" she raged, her fingers working
insultingly on his limp dick. "You're gonna pay for
this."
     Butch lay shame-faced on the bed as he emptied his
bladder against the palm of his wife's hand. She
berated him continually while she squished his dick
with her long fingers.


To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela19.txt


Article 32692 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:52:44 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 19/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)

                 SEVENTEEN
Bobby opened the door. "I'm home," he called as he
stepped into the living room. The lights were out and
the shades drawn. No one answered his greeting, but the
boy sensed a presence. He waited until his eyes
adjusted to the gloom. Pamela was seated on the couch,
her legs outstretched and her heels resting on Ginny's
back. Both were naked. As Bobby walked towards them, he
could see that the girl was tied to the coffee table.
She crouched on her hands and knees, not stretched
across the table as he had seen her before, but with
her wrists and elbows bound to the legs nearest her.
She had turned her head towards Pamela, and she rested
her cheek on the smooth wood of the table, her dark
hair spreading out on the side towards Bobby. Her
breasts hung down, swaying slightly as Pamela shifted
her bare feet from Ginny's shoulder blades to the small
of her back. Bobby stared curiously at the bowl of ice
cubes that perched on a towel in his aunt's lap. Pamela
reached into the bowl, slipped a cube into her mouth,
and sucked on it noisily while eyeing her nephew with a
smoldering expression. The sounds seemed to be an
obscene invitation to something, but Bobby couldn't
figure out to what.
     There was no preamble. "Take off your clothes,"
ordered Pamela. "Don't bother getting your panties."
     Bobby grinned at his aunt as he unbuttoned his
shirt. He wanted to make some wisecrack, but was afraid
to push it. He held the garment in his hand as he
momentarily pondered what to do with it, then finally
tossed it carelessly onto his cousin's back. Pamela
smiled conspiratorially at her nephew; he'd read the
situation right: she wanted him to be an active
participant in the girl's degradation. Bobby sat on the
floor and took off his shoes and socks. He reached over
and cupped his cousin's nearest breast in his hand. He
wished he could look into her face. As if she'd read
his mind, Pamela barked, "Head to the other side,"
punctuating the commend by slapping Ginny's buttock
with her instep.
     Bobby stared into the girl's angry, rebellious
eyes as he manipulated her soft flesh. "She do
something wrong?" he asked, pinching her rock-hard
nipple.
     "Of course," answered Pamela in a bored tone.
     Bobby twisted the nub back and forth, pressing a
little harder each time, hoping to see some reaction in
his cousin's eyes. She gave him nothing, just the same
hard stare. The boy gave a short sharp nip with his
fingers, and was rewarded with a gasp and a sudden
widening of Ginny's eyes. Satisfied, he stood up and

began to take off his pants, all the time looking down
at her eyes. He stepped out of the legs and dropped his
jeans on her back, then slowly slipped off his briefs.
He watched his cousin's eyes drop to his stiff prick,
and saw her start to lick her lips as he dropped the
underwear on her face. The waistband fell across her
ear, and the white cotton enveloped her face. Bobby
reached down and arranged the material so the fly
covered the girl's nostrils.
     Pamela watched the show raptly, an amused
expression playing about her lips. "Want an ice cube?"
she asked.
     "Yes'm." said Bobby politely. He didn't care much
one way or the other, but it seemed to be what she
wanted. He stepped over Ginny and knelt at the end of
the couch as his aunt inserted a slippery cube into his
mouth, letting her fingers remain. The cubes weren't
very big, not like the ones at his house: Pamela had an
ice-maker. Bobby sucked on Pamela's cold fingertips as
he let the ice melt in his mouth. As he bobbed back on
forth on her middle finger, the woman's jaw slackened
and her left hand stole between her legs. Bobby looked
down and saw his aunt's fingers emerge from under the
towel and disappear into her dark, hairy nest, the
knuckles moving in slow circles. It took several
minutes for the ice cube to disappear.
     "Now, Bobby," said the woman as she withdrew her
hand from the boy's mouth, "Go sit on the table."
     Bobby got up and walked uncertainly over.
     "Straddle it," said Pamela, "And sit down facing
your cousin."
     Bobby did as directed.
     "Take away the underwear."
     The boy plucked his briefs from Ginny's head and
laid them over her shoulders.
     "Now Virginia," ordered the woman, "Look straight
ahead."
     Ginny raised her head and turned it so her chin
rested on the table. The movement brought her forehead
to within inches of Bobby's stiff cock.
     "That's nice," murmured Pamela, rubbing Ginny's
buttock with her instep, "Now suck his penis."
     Ginny tried, but although she craned her neck, she
couldn't reach high enough.
     "You'll have to help her, Bobby," Pamela said
quietly.
     Bobby put his thumb on the base of his dick and
pushed down. He slipped easily between the girl's plump
red lips, then inched forward until he could feel the
pressure from the back of her throat. Ginny sucked him
eagerly, rocking her head back and forth as well as she
could. Her mouth was hot on Bobby's rod, and he soon
was thrusting his hips back and forth, ramming his cock
deep into his cousin's gullet, amazed by her ability to
absorb most of his thick tool, enjoying the grunts and
groans that greeted each stroke. I could come like
this, he thought. I could shoot my load right down her
throat. I could grab her hair and hold her in place.
Pump a little deeper every time. Listen to her strain.
Watch the sweat break out on her forehead. Look at her
eyes as I shoot off the first wad. Feel her throat work
as it goes down...
     "Bobby..." His aunt's tone held a note of warning.
     "Yes'm?" The boy snapped back to reality.
     "That's enough."

     The boy stifled his urge for release and slipped
his dick out of his cousin's mouth.
     Pamela scooped a cube from the bowl in her lap,
reached over and slipped it into Ginny's mouth. "Give
her another taste of your penis, Bobby," she
instructed. "Only this time just feed her a few inches.
Ginny, roll that ice around while you work on him."
     The girl looked expectantly at her cousin, her
mouth a moue as she made sure she didn't drip on the
table. Bobby pressed the head of his cock to Ginny's
puckered lips and gently forced them apart as he
slipped his meat home. He entered a dark cave even
wetter and more slippery than before, but the previous
sensation of heat was replaced by a complex mix of
temperatures that varied as the girl worked her mouth
around him. The ice kept moving, and he was surprised
that it didn't always feel cold; sometimes it felt so
hot that part of him was afraid he'd be burned. He bit
his lower lip at the intense sensations, and before
long he was chewing on it to keep from coming as Ginny,
realizing the effect she was having, and hoping she
could make they boy shoot off before Pamela had granted
him permission, tongued him even faster, moving the ice
in complex patterns against his rod. Bobby looked
entreatingly at his aunt, but she pretended not to
notice. The ice melted, and the boy breathed a little
easier.
     "Another cube?" asked Pamela wickedly.
     "Please, ma'am," answered Bobby before he's really
thought it through.
     Brushing back a tendril of dark hair that had
escaped her bun, the woman pulled Bobby's dick aside,
and plopped two smaller pieces of ice into Ginny's
mouth. She slid her cool fingers back and forth several
times over the length of the boy's cock, then guided it
home. As his cousin began her artful stimulation,
Pamela stroked Bobby's balls. The boy knew right away
that he was in trouble. He started counting backwards
from a thousand, then he thought about the fat woman
teacher with the wispy mustache -- anything to take his
mind off the incredible feelings that poured from his
groin. It worked, but just barely; when Pamela finally
extracted his cock and squeezed it, clear fluid oozed
from the head.
     "Very good, Bobby," she said as if he'd
successfully completed a challenging problem set.
     "Thank you, ma'am," he answered, hoping that he
wouldn't be sent upstairs with blue balls. The room was
quiet. Bobby looked at his aunt, who had released his
sack and was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed
and an opaque expression on her face. He glanced down
at his cousin, who had laid her cheek down on the table
and was chafing slightly against her restraints. A dab
of pre-come dripped from the reddened tip of the boy's
cock onto Ginny's hair near her temple; Bobby reached
down and rubbed it in.
     After a minute or two, Pamela stretched out her
arm and, using just the tips of her fingers, plucked
Bobby's clothes one by one from the girl's back and
dropped them on the floor at the end of the couch.
Bobby watched her carefully, noting the stylized care
of her motions and the expression of mild disgust that
played about her lips. When she had dropped the boy's
briefs on the top of the little pile, she leaned
forward and laid her right hand carefully on Ginny's
nearest buttock. "Did you like that, Virginia?" she

asked as she slowly slipped her hand into the warm
crevice and down to the girl's pouting, dripping cunt-
lips.
     "Yes'm."
     "Feels like it," muttered Pamela as she found
Ginny's hard, slick clit with her middle finger and
started to massage it. "How about at the beginning,
before the ice, when Bobby rammed his penis into your
mouth?" Her voice was distant and analytical.
     "It was uh, OK... Ma'am." Ginny hurriedly tacked
the honorific on the end.
     "Virginia..." Pamela admonished, her inflection
rising at the end. Her finger kept up its regular
stimulation.
     Shit! She always knows when I'm holding back, and
she never lets me rest until she drags it all out. "It
scared me, Aunt Pamela. I was afraid he'd gag me with
that big dick of his. But it turned me on, too."
Ginny's breathing was rapid and irregular.
     "His penis, dear," corrected the woman.
     "Yes'm."
     "Say it."
     Ginny, close to coming, struggled to get the words
out. "I was scared he'd shove the head of his
penis...ohh...his big penis...clear down my
throat...ahh...and make me... oh yes... gag."
     "But it excited you."
     "Ohh...yes ma'am. Yes...I loved the
way...ahh...his big thick, uh, penis filled up my
mouth. Oww...I couldn't move or anything, he
just...ohh...kept pumping in and out. Oh, yes!
Aoww...aoww." The girl stiffened, spasmed, and melted.
     Ignoring her niece's paroxysms, Pamela withdrew
her hand, inspected her glistening finger, and licked
away Ginny's juices. "Bobby," she said evenly, "Come
down here." The boy crouched, swung his leg over his
cousin's head, walked to the end of the table and stood
looking down. "Kneel there," ordered Pamela, pointing,
"Between her legs."
     Bobby pushed Ginny's calves apart with his knees
to make room, and put one hand on her rump to steady
himself. His nostrils pricked at the sweaty, musky
fragrance wafting up from between her legs. He looked
up at his aunt for guidance. She produced a tube of gel
from the folds of the towel, handed it to the boy, and
pointed at his cock.
     Bobby, ecstatic now that the prospects for his
getting off seemed suddenly brighter, popped the top
and greased up his dick. Pamela soaked her right hand
in the icy water at the bottom of the bowl, while Bobby
waited with increasing nervousness. Was this some
trick? His cock ached with the need to plunge into his
cousin's tight young ass. He examined the crinkled
brown ring with longing.
     "Kiss her," directed Pamela.
     Bobby bent forward, spreading his cousin's cheeks
with both hands. There was no doubt in his mind just
where his aunt intended the kiss to land. Extending his
tongue he pressed it gently to the very center of
Ginny's dark rosebud, feeling the tight serrations,
tasting the slight saltiness, and smelling the secret,
dusky pungency. A few short laps with the tip of his
tongue preceded Bobby's fastening of his lips all
around the hole. He sucked at his cousin's greasy
asshole, feeling her relax and open up to him. His
tongue worked its way inside.

     Suddenly, he felt his face being pushed to one
side. He pulled away to see Pamela plunging the middle
finger of her right hand deep into her niece's
fundament. "Yoww!" complained the girl.
     "Something wrong?" asked her aunt calmly.
     "It's cold!"
     "So it is," agreed the woman, "So it is." She
reached into the bowl, extracted a cube, and pressed it
to Ginny's quivering ring.
     "Oww."
     Pamela ignored the protest, and calmly plunged the
ice up her niece's nether hole. Ginny jerked at the
assault and gave a little strangled cry. Her aunt paid
no attention, but simply inserted another cube, this
time with no delaying at the entrance. Two more
followed as Ginny twitched against the ropes that held
her fast. The coffee table moved a few inches, but her
exertions gained her nothing more. With a wave of her
hand, Pamela beckoned Bobby forward. He put his left
hand on his cousin's slim hip to steady himself, and
poised his cock at the now-glistening entrance to her
secret passage. He glance up at his aunt to make sure
that this was what she had in mind, and received a slow
nod. Working the slithery tip inside the tight opening,
he put his other hand on the girl's right hip and
forcefully slipped his tool all the way up her ass.
     "Oof," exclaimed the girl. She felt impaled,
skewered. It wouldn't have been so intense if Bobby had
given me a little time to get used to his big dick in
my tight little hole, given me a chance to relax, to
open myself up, before he slid in kind of slow and
easy, but no, he had to ram that fat thing up my butt
like a freight train. God, he's trying to get in even
deeper, grinding his belly into me, pulling on my
hips... At least the ice doesn't feel so cold now that
it's inside. Now he's starting to fuck me. Jeez, his
cock feels icy in my asshole -- funny how it doesn't
feel cold all the way inside. Now he's starting to
groove, pumping out a rhythm, fucking my baby butthole
with that big cold poker. Feels weird, but it feels
pretty fucking good. Come on, cuz, fuck me. Fuck my
asshole like there's no tomorrow. That's it. Now you're
getting it. Shit, that's good. Wish he'd finger my
clit, so maybe I'd get off. Not much change of that,
though. Come on, boy, shoot your jizz up my butt...
     Ginny was getting off on the scene, but her cousin
thought he'd gone to heaven. The delicious hot/cold,
baked Alaska feeling of the girl's inner folds combined
with the incredibly tight grip of her sphincter drove
Bobby wild. Even when the ice cubes moved around a bit
and the warmth went away, it was a pretty fantastic
feeling, and when he looked over pleadingly at his
aunt, she nodded her head, and he knew he didn't have
to hold back any more. He snorted through clenched
nostrils as he slid his hands down and tugged
desperately on the tops of Ginny's thighs, plunging in
and out as fast as he could, and quickly, surprisingly
quickly now that he had let himself go, he shot great
gobs of white cream up his cousin's clinging hole,
where it mingled with the now-melted ice. With a groan,
he pulled his cock out, streaked with white come and
brown shit. Pamela wiped his half-hard dick with the
towel.
     "Now clean her up," she ordered. Bobby reached for
the towel, but Pamela stopped him and pointed at her
mouth. Where does she get these things? Bobby wondered

as he lowered his lips to the brown and white goo that
dripped from his cousin's bottomhole. He throttled his
revulsion and made sure he worked slowly and thoroughly
as he licked it up; he knew his aunt was just waiting
for him to get rush through it. After a minute, he
pulled himself upright, licking his lips and struggling
against an urge to spit.
     Pamela took great satisfaction in the subtle
twitching of her nephew's lips as he waited for the
next command. "Now Bobby," she said, "You've enjoyed
your time with your cousin this afternoon, haven't
you?"
     "Yes'm."
     "Since she's been so accommodating, I think it
would be appropriate if you did something nice for
her."
     "Ma'am?"
     "Make her feel good, Bobby. Make her feel real
good. Make her feel so good she can't hold still, so
good she squeals. Make her twitch and jump and wriggle.
Make her hot. Make her sweat and pant and drool. Touch
her where she itches. Stroke her slimy little nub.
Tease her a little. You know how to do it. You know
just the way."
     Bobby put his left hand at the small of Ginny's
back and reached between her legs with the right,
dipping his fingers into the young girl's warm wet
cavern in a wholly unnecessary attempt to lubricate
them, then he slipped his middle and ring fingers
forward until he felt her button. He worked the tips of
his fingers in tight little circles.
     He wasn't near as skillful as Pamela, but Ginny
wasn't complaining. He'd gotten her real hot with the
butt-fucking, and she ached for completion. If the boy
pressed a little too hard sometimes, or strayed off the
target, that was OK, she was gonna get off, and that
was what counted. She felt the familiar, dizzying
sensations of her impending orgasm. A sharp, cold
feeling in the middle of her back ripped her away from
that warm, fuzzy place. Pamela had plunked a bunch of
ice cubes right in the center, and was pressing them in
place with both hands. After a few seconds, she
regrouped and began to work once more towards her
climax. Her aunt scooped the cubes back in the bowl,
though Ginny's back still dripped cold water. She was
starting to get close again when she was startled to
feel Pamela cup hands full of ice to each breast. Damn
it, she thought, Nothing's gonna keep me from coming.
Not that clumsy kid. Not the fucking ice. This one's
mine. Go ahead, Auntie. Rub my titties with that cold
shit. Makes my nipples real hard, doesn't it? You're
gonna help get me off, ya know. Oops, where's you go?
Guess you figured it out. That's OK, I still got Bobby.
Higher. Higher. Here I go... Oh shit, not the back of
my neck! Too late, Auntie, too fucking late. Oh Christ,
that feels good!"
     Ginny's groans announced her orgasm. Now everybody
had come but Pamela. And Pamela knew how to fix that.

To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela20.txt


Article 32691 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:52:20 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 20/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)

                   EIGHTEEN
Bobby had been working in the yard, and came into the
house for a drink of water. As he walked through the
kitchen, he heard a moan from the direction of the
living room. It sounded like somebody in pain. Bobby
crept down the hall, paused at the doorway, and exhaled
slowly. Nobody was hurt. The only agony was intense
frustration.
     Ginny lay naked across the ottoman, bound on her
hands and knees. Pamela sat in a straight chair behind
her, the woman's hands busy at the hairy juncture of
the teenager's thighs. The coating of slime on the
backs of the girls thighs extended almost to the floor,
and it looked like it was even thicker between her
legs.
     "Oh, please, Aunt Pamela," whimpered Ginny. "You
let me come once, but that must have been an hour ago.
Please, please, I need it so bad."
     "You can plead all you want, Virginia," Pamela
answered in icy tones. "I like it when you beg. But
you'll come when I want you to. No sooner, no later."
Her voice took on a mocking quality. "You're a hot
little bitch, aren't you? Sopping wet from your crotch
to your knees." She wiggled her middle finger into the
girl's crinkled brown asshole. "Slippery here, too.
Want another finger?"
     "Oh, yes, Aunt Pamela."
     "How about two?" said the woman as she shoved her
first three fingers up her niece's clinging rectum.
     "Ungh," responded the girl as her aunt pushed hard
enough to move the ottoman.
     "Oh, Bobby," said Pamela over her shoulder. The
boy jumped. He had no idea that she knew he was there.
"Get undressed and come over here." Bobby lost no time,
and soon stood at his aunt's side, his erection at her
eye level. She turned to the coffee table and picked up
a leash. Bobby eyed it in surprise. It was black and
thin and round, with a silver choke collar attached.
Pamela untangled the collar and looped it over Bobby's
dick. The metal felt cold on his sensitive flesh.
Pamela pushed the collar to the base of her nephew's
cock, pushed her chair back a couple of feet, then
pulled down on the leash. Bobby just stood there. His
prick pointed lower as Pamela slowly increased the
force. When it drooped below horizontal, she reached
out and pushed the head upwards so the chain wouldn't
slip off. Under his aunt's unrelenting pressure, Bobby
sagged to his knees. Pamela pushed him into position
behind his cousin, dropped the leash on the floor, then
reached between the boy's legs and picked it up,
pulling upwards until the collar was wedged tightly
between Bobby's compact little buns.
     "Now Bobby," Pamela breathed in her nephew's ear.
"I want you to put your penis in her vagina." The boy
gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, this won't be as easy as
you think," his aunt continued. "Two inches." Bobby
turned to her in puzzlement. "That's all you're
allowed. At the most. You can moved back and forth as
much as you like, but you can never go deeper than two
inches."
     "And Virginia," the woman continued, bending over
her nephew and putting her hand on the teenager's soft
olive buttock. "You tell him what you want him to do.
Whatever you'd like. He'll do what I say, but I want
him to hear all the things he can't do."
     "Begin, Bobby," ordered Pamela in the voice of a
school teacher, tightening the chain for emphasis. The
boy put his thumb on top of his dick and aimed it for
the glistening entrance to his cousin's cunt. He
brushed the sopping wet hair up and down with the head,
then slowly eased it into the girl's slippery channel.
Her sharp intake of breath almost made him forget
himself and plunge his tool all the way up her
delicious warm pussy, but the collar's cool pressure
against his asshole reminded him of his limits. He
watched his purple helmet disappear, and then another
half-inch of meat. Then he drew back his hips, and the
ridge at the rim of the head emerged covered in fuck-
juice. He moved faster, jogging his dick in and out as
fast as he could, but she was so wet that there was
very little friction, and his short strokes didn't give
him a chance to build up much speed. The boy could tell
that it was going to be hard to come this way, even if
his aunt would let him.
     Then his cousin started to talk to him, and he
changed his mind. "Come on, Bobby," whined the girl.
"Fuck me with your big thing. Ram it all the way up my
tight little pussy. I want to feel your balls slapping
against my legs. I want to hear your belly smacking
into my ass. Fuck me so hard you knock the wind out of
me. Fuck me so fast your dick gets hot.  Give it to me.
Give me every fucking inch."
     Bobby tried to get away with an extra half-inch,
but Pamela was watching and tugged up on the leash when
Bobby pulled back out. The boy felt the chain press
against his crotch and slip between his buttocks as his
dick slipped out of his cousin's warm wetness. Pamela
eased up immediately so she wouldn't pull the collar
completely off.
     Bobby looked at his aunt with beaten, pleading
eyes. "Put it back, Bobby," she commanded in a voice
devoid of sympathy. "Same rules." The boy obeyed, his
jaw slack. He put his hands on Ginny's hips and moved
fractionally back and forth while his aunt varied the
pressure on the leash. Sometimes when she pulled
harder, Ginny could feel her cousin's dick sliding over
her clit as he pulled back so far his cock almost
slipped out. She bit her lip to keep from letting
Pamela know what was happening; she was sure her aunt
would stop if she knew how good this felt. She might
even be able to come this way. A whole series of short
sharp strokes just hit the spot. She felt her stomach
muscles tightening, and then...Pamela eased the
pressure off completely. Bobby's cock pulled upwards,
and Ginny slumped in frustration.
     Pamela leaned over Bobby, who, worried only about
his own satisfaction, had been oblivious to the little
game that she and Ginny had been playing, and whispered
in his ear. "Feel good, Bobby?" she asked.
     "Yeah, Aunt Pamela," he answered, "But..."
     "But what, Bobby?"
     "Aw, Aunt Pamela," he whined, "I really wanna
come!"
     "Well Bobby," purred Pamela, "I'm feeling generous
today..."
     "Yeah?"
     "Take your penis out of her vagina." Bobby pulled
back and let his glistening dick bob up and down.
Pamela took a tube from the coffee table and squeezed
some clear gel onto the head of her nephew's cock. She
rubbed it in, squeezing deliciously on the soft helmet.
"Now put it in her rectum." As Bobby, eager to comply,
guided his tool into position, his aunt gave him a
warning: "You can put the head just inside her
sphincter. No farther. When you feel the ridge slip
through, when it starts to go in all by itself, pull it
out and slip it in again. Understand?"
     "Yes'm," replied Bobby glumly. He didn't know if
this would be any better. He pulled gently on his
cousin's hips and felt her delightful tightness ringing
the tip of his tool. He slipped in cautiously.
Suddenly, he was through the resistance. He pulled
backwards, looking down to see his angry purple glans
emerging from Ginny's brown ring. Her asshole pulled
out in a little tent as Bobby pulled backwards, then he
slipped all the way out. He put one hand on his dick to
steady it and started to ass-fuck his cousin in the
strange way that Pamela had ordered. It wasn't too bad,
actually. Ginny was nice and tight, there wasn't too
little friction, and the teenager's grunts and moans
turned the boy on. He couldn't figure out why she was
carrying on so much, but then he realized that Ginny's
asshole was getting more of a workout than if he had
just shoved his dick straight in. He felt intermittent
pressure between his cheeks from the chain, but it
seemed like his aunt was just making sure he knew who
was in charge, and she was going to let him get off.
Bobby snorted through his nose as he felt a tightness
forming in his groin. He moved as fast as he could,
slipping the head of his dick in and out of Ginny's
clinging rosebud. She was wailing now, crying out
wordlessly for relief. He didn't know about her, but he
was going to get his. "Ungh, ungh," he grunted.
     "Go ahead, Bobby," encouraged his aunt, "Come for
me."
     The first jet started as he pushed inwards, and he
thrust his hips to make sure he'd squirt it right up
his cousin's butt. The second came right after he
pulled back, and covered Ginny's gaping brown ring in
sticky white slime. The boy drove his dick back through
the goo, and shot another load inside. He held his dick
there, twitching and weakly spurting, until it started
to soften.
     "Good boy, Bobby," said Pamela as he slipped out.
Now let her clean you up. Ginny waited for the boy to
come around. She raised her head as he knelt in front
of her and took his semi-soft dick in her mouth. It
wasn't bad, really. He hadn't been all the way inside
her, so there wasn't any shit to deal with. Still,
there was a vague foul odor; she sucked her cousin's
cock until it went away.
     Bobby arose, and his spot was taken by Pamela. She
moved her chair in close, then sat down. She spread her
legs on both sides of the ottoman. Ginny's nose pressed
against her aunt's skirt as she waited for the next
act. The material was moving. Slowly the skirt slid
higher, forcing the teenager's head back as Pamela
stretched the material with her knees. The hem passed
across Ginny's mouth and nose, until her forehead
rested on the taut cloth and her eyes peered into the
musky darkness between her aunt's legs. The girl's head
flopped forward as the skirt moved higher; she raised
it in time to see Pamela reaching down to pull off her
panties. The women fiddled with the waistband, then
realized she'd never get them off with her knees on
either side of the footstool. She turned sideways,
removed her underwear, and tossed the damp garment
casually on Ginny's back.
     Then she hiked her chair even closer, and threw
one leg over Ginny's back so that she straddled the
ottoman again. But this time the skirt was well out of
the way. And this time Pamela's thick dark bush was
completely exposed. And this time the woman let her
hips slide forward on the chair until her hot, sticky,
smelly pussy was just inches from her niece's face.
Ginny twisted against her restraints. "I never..." she
began in a pleading voice.
     "I know," answered her aunt, her pleasure evident.
"But now you have to."
     Ginny slowly snaked her tongue out. Her aunt's
smell was strong, but not disagreeable. She took a
lick, tasting for the first time the salty, gamy,
slightly fishy taste.
     Pamela twined her hand in her niece's hair and
leaned back. This was going to be all right.

To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela21.txt


Article 32687 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:52:03 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 21/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)

                 NINETEEN


Pamela awoke to the first coolness of fall and padded
down the stairs for a cup of coffee. The house seemed
larger now that Billy was gone. She missed his eager
obedience, his quiet half-smile, his...well, she had to
admit to herself, mostly she missed his slim young hips
between her legs.
                                                              
                                                             
     *           *             *                              
                                                              
                                                              
Ginny was on bathroom duty again. Naked, she knelt on the
floor by the commode and listened for Pamela's steps in
the hall. When her aunt arrived at the doorway, the
teenager looked properly at the floor. Pamela stepped
closer and raised her skirt. Ginny obediantly tugged
the older woman's panties down her legs, picked them
up, folded them carefully and hung them on the towel
rack. Pamela dropped her skirt, took a step backwards,
turned, and stood in front of the toilet. Ginny walked
forward on her knees and lifted her aunt's skirt clear
as she sat down on the seat; she had to reach around
behind the woman to hold the skirt up in back, and the
position brought her nose almost into contact with her
aunt's hairy bush. Ginny sat on her heels to wait for
her next duty. "Eyes," Pamela said without emphasis.
Ginny raised her gaze to her aunt's face, being careful
to keep her eyes wide, her lips slack and slightly
parted, and her expression that of a supplicant as she
absorbed the hard, superior look from the older woman.
After a few seconds Pamela's stream splashed into the
water, its burbling sound echoing against the hard
porcelain. A delicate spicy aroma invaded Ginny's
nostrils; she breathed as deeply as she could without
being obvious about it. When the last trickle fell into
the bowl, Pamela spread her legs and raised one eyebrow
significantly. The teenager bent forward and lapped at
the fine droplets that clung to her aunt's pussy,
smelling the odor of urine much more intensely now that
her head was poised over the toilet bowl. When Ginny
could find no more sour liquid, she started to pull
away, but found Pamela's hand firmly against the back
of her head. She knew what this meant; the girl lapped
energetically at the older woman's clitoris for fifteen
minutes and three orgasms. Pamela's juices and Ginny's
saliva dripped into the toilet bowl, streaking the
surface of the clear yellow pool.


                *           *             *
Lit only by the dim light on the night stand, the
couple lay in exhausted disarray amidst damp, twisted
sheets. The apartment bedroom smelled strongly of sex
and sweat. The woman stirred languidly, reached for the
man, and kissed him softly but thoroughly on the lips.
Slowly, as if it took all her strength, she put an
elbow on the bed, and propped her head up. "Bobby," she
whispered, "That was incredible." "You took me places
I've never been before. And when I thought it was over,
you just took me higher. And you're so young -- just a
freshman -- but you're so patient, so caring, so
responsive, so inventive. How'd you get to be such a
good lover?"
     "It's a long story," Bobby replied. "Let's just
say I had a good teacher."