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Go West, Young Man! Pt. 02

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“I am my nephew’s sex bitch!” Even mumbling that line under my breath made me feel crude and debased. But wow, I had to admit to myself that my incestuous surrender to the domineering demands of my young master, was more than just the culmination of a lost weekend’s adventure of seduction and loneliness. My tortured psyche was forced to dredge the slimy muck of my deepest, most hidden deviant, desires to uncover this forbidden fantasy.

The taboo sexual humiliation that occasionally nagged at my troubled soul was overwhelmed by the lusty dark dream stowed deep in many women’s minds of being a sexual slave to a strong, demanding man. The emotional snag was that this sensual beast that I so easily offered my obedience to, both obviously and overtly, was my 24 year old nephew, Jeff. Over the course of just a few months, either by devious plotting or a young guy’s pure, dumb luck, Jeff managed to open-up in me a Pandora’s Box of long suppressed thoughts and desires. He skillfully awakened deep-seeded yearnings in me that could only be sated by a complete surrender of the usual norms of sexual and familial behavior. And as these twisted urges bubbled to the surface, they needed to be acted on immediately and almost constantly.

Jeff had found the perfect positive magnetic field, to attract and attach itself to my negative energy. He cultivated in me the simmering lust of a submissive, needy and lonesome woman who wanted to explore and experiment with the raunchiest and most perverted ideas, and was willing to offer her luscious body as his reward for releasing these taboo inhibitions. And he groomed me well. With a sly system of rewards and repetition, he eventually got to the point that I was begging him to fuck me and feeling extreme pleasure when he did. I have become a willing partner in this bizarre sexual endeavor, but still everyday I ask myself how I ever got in this deep. Sometimes, even against my better instincts and knowing that I am being manipulated for sex by a member of my own family, I strive to be a sensual siren for him, and I want mightily to be able to please him. My exquisite pleasure (and I achieve more orgasms than I ever dreamed possible,) would not be nearly as exciting if I felt that I was being used, or that the feelings were not mutual. He is certainly the dominant one in this little tale, but without a willing submissive, the situation would not be complete. We make it work.

In fact, only this morning as we prepared for work and hustled to make the daily commute, he insisted that I drop to my knees and suck thick cock until I swallowed a hardy mouthful of his sticky-sweet semen. We work at the same company, though in different buildings of a major complex. And I am ostensibly his boss, though he works in an entirely different department and I am an office wonk. But he has mentioned more than once, that he gets a special thrill from a fantasy of having his boss suck his cock. He is constantly pushing the envelope and adding new gadgets or scenarios to our sex-lives. And each one excites some lewd urge in my brain and in my cunt.

I barely argue with his deviant requests anymore because they co-inside with my hunger; only to point-out a more comfortable position or to usher him into a more secluded room, for our sexual maneuvers. And I know that every “favor” that I perform is never just a “quickie,” It can happen while driving in the car or sneaking into a restaurant’s bathroom. My breasts are always groped and my mouth is usually the receptacle for his stream of hot, thick fluids. He is getting more blatant in his demands and I am getting more daring in my adventures.

He has instructed me that even the simple act of a blowjob must be performed with all of the sexual precision and accompanying effects of some lewd, fantastical opera. So the fact that today we might be late for work, and have to sit for an extra hour in a cum-smelling car with our wrinkled, damp clothes betraying the obvious signs of a hurried, crude dalliance, I was compelled to act my routine without skipping a step.

This means exposing my ample chest to his leering inspection and allowing him to explore and critique it’s dimensions. I usually begin my chores with both hands; two digits on my left hand begin a gentle swirl at the close-cropped hairs guarding the straining nub of my exposed clitoris, gradually I tease the swollen tip until the electric jolts to my system become too much of a distraction, and then I plunge my wet fingers into the soppy cavity of my molten snatch. My right hand slowly strokes his gargantuan rod. From the wide base, sprouting from a nest of dark, curly black pubes, his thickness is a struggle for my small hand to encircle. My palm loosely glides up and down the smooth shaft of his pink pillar. Near the top, I flick at the thicker skin on the underside of his flared mushroomed cap. At the tip, my hand starts the flow of liquidy pre-cum to ooze from the tiny slit. I feel it’s slickness lubricating my grip when my hand begins a quicker rhythm strumming the shiny length of his majestic pole.

This is when he likes me to plant Betturkey a few soft, wet kisses on his plum-sized balls. The coarse, curly hairs tickle my nose as I bathe the base of his thick shaft in wet, warmth. I work my way up the firm shaft, licking along the veiny blue ridges and swirling my tongue around the glistening circumference. When I reach the domed head, my kisses grow wetter and more sloppy. He can’t control himself any further and I feel the pressure on the back of my neck as his rigid rod forces itself between my lips. With a couple of powerful thrusts he wedges his tool deep in my throat and unleashes a fire-hose of viscous fire that shoots against my tonsils and floods down my pipes. And unless he specifically wants to spray his sticky seed on my face or tits, I am to swallow it all or to take it in my “slutty pussy” as he calls it. He tells me that it is a sin for his seed to be wasted. Almost all situations result in one of these ways.

Our three weeks of near-constant fucking has imprinted on me, the sexual contortions and habits that my master has pains-takingly instilled in his servile aunt. So that just as we were ready to leave the house today, when I noticed that he was lagging in the living room and tugging at the growing bulge in his jeans, I was not surprised when I heard him laughingly call-out, “Hey Aunt Julie, just one more thing.” He loves to use the term “Aunt” when we’re having sex, because he knows it makes me twitch. There is still something so very naughty about incest with my sister’s kid.

My eyebrows arched resignedly and my 34Ds heaved with a weary sigh but I laid my car keys and briefcase on the table and kicked my Manolo’s off so as not to scuff the toes. This obviously was not my first rodeo. So as I squinted through reluctant lenses, I saw the devious smirk form on his lips, when he eased his denims down his muscular thighs. My nervous hands quickly yanked the tail of my silk blouse from my skirt and fumbled with the tiny buttons. In my hurry, I still knew that I needed to unbutton the sleeves and to try to avoid as many wrinkles as possible.

I could leave on my new pleated leather skirt today. But I knew to place a couch pillow on the carpet to avoid a runner in my stockings or big, nasty bruises on my knees. My sexy, sheer demi-bra snaps in the front, so that was convenient. From experience gleaned in these hectic weeks, I knew that Jeff always wants my boobs wobbling loosely when I suck him, that’s why I rarely even bother with lingerie at home. But I also realized that we needed to get to work. So I poured it on thick. He has expressed to me on numerous occasions that he wants me to talk about my anatomy and the sexual gyrations we engage in, in the most graphic, harsh language. It actually intensifies the feeling for both of us, when I use these vile, crude terms.

“Give it to me, Jeff. Drive your giant cock down my whorey throat. I can’t wait to take your creamy seed.” Actually, I could have waited until we got back home, but I knew that I had to drain his cock quickly if I wanted to escape the drudgery of sitting on the 405 all morning. Plus I had to swallow the entire load, so that I didn’t need to drive with dried cum flaking off of my tits and hair.

I knew that he especially chose this moment to once again express his dominance over me; being able to not just control me but make me squirm in my submission, was an extra turn-on for Jeff. My mind was always conditioned to think about what other people or concerns were caught-up in the vortex of our escapades. In this case, our jobs. I was just a low-level executive in the hierarchy, not the capo that Jeff imagined. Though I must admit, half of the lewd thrill of fucking my dominant nephew, was the uneasy sensation that he would subject me to this crude discipline at any time. And his unsubtle warnings that he may demand my obedience in any situation, no matter who might be present. I knew he was joking, (I hope.)

One funny and strange thing that I learned about myself was, that when I suck or fuck him, I really want him to cum. I want to know that I excite him enough that he can’t hold back. That’s why I pay attention to the small differences in his breathing or the tempo of his strokes, I want Jeff to explode in me, in the same way that my orgasms rock my whole body.

When I pulled his big cock into my mouth, he strained to force it home. But I kept playing with him. The slobber ran in rivers down the length of his enormous tool, and I placed his slippery organ between the firm, round flesh of my melons. I let him roughly slide his tool in the deep cleavage of my glistening globes, kissing and sucking the purplish head each time it appeared at the cleft of my boobs. I had never been a fan of obscene language, infact I have a big jar on my desk that anyone caught swearing needs to pay a quarter to, (we’ve catered a lot of lunches from that jar.) But Jeff likes me to talk dirty, so I did what I had to, to get to the office.

“Let me have it Master, please,” I begged in my most seductive, husky voice. Betturkey Giriş “Fill me with you cum, honey. I’m your bitch and I need my breakfast. My slutty throat is thirsty for your sweet cream. ” I let him titty-fuck me until I saw the flared head of the thick mushroomed cap look like it was about to erupt. His grunts and growls grew more aggressive with each lunge of his eely piston. He held my ears as his massive pole rode up and down through the irrigated trough of my abundant cleavage. He was shivering and pushing hard against my neck. Then I took the giant helmeted tip between my pouty lips and fed just enough of the solid shaft into my throat to bathe it with my soothing saliva, allowing me room to breathe and still to flick my tongue along it’s smooth knob.

I gurgled and moaned as I sucked, and he called me filthy, vulgar names, that only increased his passion to thrust and the suction of my horny cheeks. I tried to keep things contained but the slobber flew, and my pussy boiled over. I have grown to relish the full, hard feel of his rigid rod in my cheeks when it brushes against the insides and slams against the back. And I savor the acidic taste of the initial droplets of pre-cum, then I start to swallow in anticipation of the warm deluge that is heading my way.

With a sudden husky roar and a death-grip on my shaggy, black locks, he shot his warm, syrupy load towards my tonsils and pumped that solid prick like a shotgun. I gulped hungrily, wishing that we had more time to proceed from this foreplay, but understanding that we had to fly. With the last few ounces streaming into my stomach, my own orgasm let loose. The convulsions rippled through my soaked torso and I longed to curl-up on the floor and cuddle with Jeff. I was forced to ruin the pleasurable afterglow of my own climax, because we had to get going. My body finally stopped shaking enough for me to regain my composure, and to slowly rise to my feet. I was sweaty and disheveled, but I had a plan for these emergencies.

Jeff zipped his pants with the satisfied look of a bank president. He grabbed an extra t-shirt and ran his thick fingers through his glossy beach-blonde bangs. He would towel himself in the car and we would ride with the top down, his bare chest and arms would dry in the wind, and he could work on his tan. His job in the Photo Department is quite informal and aslong as the crew continues to earn awards, there would be no problems. I threw a hockey jersey over my dank torso and fashioned my sweaty hair into a ponytail, secured with a ballcap. I slipped on a pair of sandals and wiped the streaked remnants of mascara and lipstick from my face. Fortunately I have reserved parking and a private bath in my office, so only the guard at the gate will see what a skanky mess I appear and will wonder how I ever got hired. I have learned the hard way to keep a few changes of clothes and a makeup kit at work. We’ll be late, and my secretary will notice the condition of my arrival, but some things can’t be helped. I could still taste the salty flavor of his cum as we sat in freeway traffic.

Little episodes like this have become much more common ever since I dropped my guard and started having sex with my nephew. And worse than that, his dominating persona has found a kindred spirit in my lust and arousal at the feeling of being possessed by a commanding presence. On top of that is the libidinous obsession for a forbidden affair that seems can only be quenched by an incestuous role-playing tryst with my young nephew.

Our “Lost Weekend” of sexual depravity that we had last month, which started as a drowsy, alcohol-fueled cuddle session, has become a daily sex-fest marathon of debauchery that normally starts at the moment we get home and lasts through most of the evening. Pausing only for dinner and sleep, we generally unwind with slow-groping massage and progress to sexual acrobatics raging from bondage to shower-sex. There is always a great deal of energetic fucking just before bedtime that usually tires us out and brings on sweet dreams. And that generally culminates with a mutual morning sixty-nine, and if we tumble into the shower together, a little wake-up bump against the tiles. I’ve had more sex in the past three weeks than I had in the previous three years, and I love every taboo minute of it. We have few inhibitions and I have learned to just listen to my body. When we had sex for the second time; the realization sunk in that no matter what our upbringing had taught us, or what polite society may judge, it was fun, exciting and just perverted enough to add another layer of thrills. And we have both discovered my latent desire to be controlled, something that Jeff is eager to fulfill and that I am unabashedly willing to give in to.

I have had “lovers” treat me like shit, and people in authority lord their power over me, and I grew to despise them both. But this was different in a strange sexual power dynamic. My nephew was not, and would never be my lover, but he was terrific in bed and had an impressive cock. I am much higher in the company, it’s my house, and if the little prick does something bad (outside of sex) I can tell his mother. We are on “relatively” equal footing and we both know the roles we play, the idea is to have the most fun and the greatest sex! I always had dirty dreams and thought the things I saw in x-rated movies looked kinky and exciting, but I never felt free enough with any partner to truly let loose. And if Jeff always had these darker fantasies of control and command, he never had the appropriate outlet. Maybe it was just coincidence that we got together, but the connection started to build from the first day and now, we have settled into our characters. We are free and open to explore and experiment with all of the wonderful emotions that our bodies can produce, so we’ve decided- Let’s go for it! And for that, I need a master and he wants a slave.

My butt gets spanked with regularity, open-handed or with paddles or whips. Growing-up, in Catholic School, I thought that this form of punishment was the most degrading thing imaginable. Now my nervous pussy begins to heat up when he tells me to lower my panties, and even more so, when I’m told to pick-out an instrument for my discipline. Often when I’m sprawled bare-bottomed across his lap, he begins this slow torture by patting and rubbing the taut mounds of my lusty ass. With gentle spanks on each soft cheek and firm cupping of the round bottoms, my juices begin to moisten his thighs. I feel his prick stiffen under my belly and jab at the sensitive region just inches above my perky clit. His fingers tickle my inner thighs, working their way through the wiry curls of my vagina, and playfully poke at the folds of my cunt. With his fingertips lubricated in this manner, he moves them a bit to my other, more private orifice. I feel the pressure of each digit, as every day more fingers advance even deeper into my rear passage and I squirm and squeal with apprehension when he advises me that someday soon, his long, thin fingers will give way to his thick, forceful cock.

I spend a lot of time on my knees and he now sleeps in my bed. So that when we are watching an old movie on TV or a ballgame, and he wants his mammoth tool massaged, my hands and mouth are by his side. At nights, he can simply spread my legs or pull me on top of him when he wants to plunge that enormous rod into my waiting snatch. I have refined my fellatio technique and can arouse his limp cock into action with the pointy nipples of my big tits, or by wrapping strands of my dark hair around his shaft, or by grinding my pussy on his lap before I ever slide to my knees and take his straining tool in my lips. And we now fuck in every conceivable position and some we laughingly discover on our own. He has taken over my body, home and mind. And I am living a very exciting, but naughty, wet dream of erotic pleasure.

I am hardly ever completely nude at home, but now bras are a no-no. I basically wear bikini bottoms and a loose tee. This is standard issue in Southern California, so even to the occasional prying eyes on our deck, it seems nothing out of the ordinary. I have also learned to come running from anywhere in the house when he calls for me. And like a test subject in some weird sex-lab, I feel my pussy begin to dampen and my nipples harden whenever I hear that familiar call, “Julie, come here, I need you to take care of something.” My shirt is already over my head when I rush into the room and usually I find him sprawled on the couch, with his shorts around his ankles.

Up until last month I hadn’t had a cock in my mouth in years. And those times were usually to square a debt and performed under extreme duress. And I never let anyone cum in my mouth, once belligerently going as far as to spit the nasty stuff on a guys pantlegs. I thought that act was one of the most disgusting things a man could make another person do. Now I pleasingly suck my nephew’s huge column atleast ten times a day and fuck him half a dozen times more. And I savor the taste of his sweetness, I can even tell if he has been drinking too much coffee or brandy. I love that second when his throbbing organ is expanding my cheeks and pounding back and forth in my mouth, just right before that final twitch when I feel the eruption and can taste the first squirt of the fire-hose flood about to commence. I am often called to drop to my knees two or three times in the same hour. The recuperative powers of a young stud are amazing. Thank goodness that semen isn’t fattening.

One morning last week after I had nearly sucked a pint of his sticky cream down my gullet and before either of us had even a drop of coffee, he laid back exhausted on the pillow. It’s a rare achievement when I can wear him out, especially in the mornings. But there he lay, sweating and breathing deep, his body limp and his eyes closed with a contented, well-spent grin creasing his face. I was still feeling the warm trickle of my own fluids seeping from my sore cunt, (he likes when I play with my pussy as I service him, and I was exceptionally horny this morning,) and once I start to diddle my demanding clit, nature takes over. Combined with the flood of liquids still harbored inside of me from our sessions last night and today, I had a steady ooze seeping down to my ankles as I shuffled off to an early morning shower.

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