Aunt Cheryl called me for breakfast the next morning, but she didn't come into the room and watch me get dressed, like she had yesterday. Aw, I thought. I'd been kinda counting on that! Now that I knew, or thought I knew, a good bit more about Aunt Cheryl and her psyche, I could have done a much better, more professional job than I had yesterday morning. Well, no matter. I had my plans for Aunt Cheryl.
She was out in the hall when I started down for breakfast. I saw the involuntary motion with which she tossed back her long straight hair. Her eyes were a little moist and so were her lips. "Do you feel better this morning, Elizabeth?" she asked. "I was worried about you last night. I had thought of coming in to talk to you before you went to sleep, but, well, I'd taken my pill and I didn't know if I'd be very coherent or helpful…" Too bad, I told myself, If you'd skipped the tranquilizer, maybe we could have gotten it all worked out last night.
"That's all right," I said, smiling up at her. "You made me feel a lot better." I took her hand and squeezed it. She acted as if she didn't want to let go, and then her fingers went loose, as if she'd overstepped herself. She stepped back, but she couldn't hide it, not now, not from a more observant Elizabeth. Aunt Cheryl had a craving for me – a sexual craving.
Well, that wasn't the root of hers and Uncle Bill's problems. I mean, they'd been cold on the shoulders before I came out to stay with them. Uncle Bill was so fucking horny that first night that he was almost no problem at all. He'd been doing without. Why? The glitter in Aunt Cheryl's eyes as she looked at me had something to do with it, and I was pretty confident that if I could just get her off alone for a while, I'd have to fight her off my ass. Provided I gave her the telltale clues that my ass was available.
"I'm really sore," I said, as we stood there at the head of the stairs. I was wearing a little tube top, that wasn't quite sturdy enough to hold down my tits, and a pair of denim cutoff so high up the legs that none one of my panties would fit under them without showing. "Right here." And I touched myself just inside the frayed cutoff denim legs, where my thighs jointed to my torso. "Just this continuous ache, you know?"
"Mmm," Aunt Cheryl said, taking a deep breath. I worked my fingers a little further into the thighs, showing her that the ache spread up and down my hips. "It's probably just a little strain from all that riding you did yesterday. If you're not used to sitting a horse…"
"Well, I thought maybe you could check me or something," I added. "With a licensed paramedic in the family, I figured why not take advantage?" and I smiled, fetchingly.
"Later," she said. "After breakfast. You might have some muscle or ligature injury, but it's probably just old-fashioned cramp."
We entered the kitchen laughing and talking, and I made sure to limp a little. Uncle Bill was waiting for us. I smiled at him. This time he didn't look away. His eyes were bright, and I knew he was remembering last night and the promises I'd made him. Maybe today, I had told him as he was going back to his own bedroom. Kim was supposed to come over this afternoon. If things worked out, maybe the three of us could get off by ourselves and he could find out on his own if Asiatic girls were cut horizontally or vertically.
After breakfast, Uncle Bill had to go into town. It was Friday, and he had to pick up the copy for the county's weekly newspaper. At least five thousand eager readers would be expecting to pore over the paper first thing Monday morning. He had to mail out a large box of poetry booklets he'd printed up for someone back east. All that, I estimated, should occupy him for at least a couple of hours. That was time enough for me to try what I had in mind. The more I thought about it, and the more often I watched Aunt Cheryl watching me, the less doubt I had. I'd missed all the telltale signs and symptoms at first, solely because of my lack of experience. A morning and afternoon with Kim had opened my eyes, and now I was ready to put it into practice.
"Do you have time to check me over? Before you go in to work, I mean?" I asked, helping Aunt Cheryl put away the breakfast dishes. I managed to bump her with my tits a couple of times and it was fun watching her pretend it hadn't happened. But she couldn't pretend very well. The second time my stiff nipples, so big and long and punchy under the clingy nylon top, brushed her bare arm, she dropped a coffee cup into the sink where it shattered into an easy fifty pieces. I hoped it wasn't one of her favorite cups, but something told me that in a short while she wouldn't mind, even if it were.
"Oh, I have time," she said, throatily, with a little effort. "We don't have morning hours on Friday, and I don't have to be there until one. I'll probably spend the afternoon sitting in an empty office. So – well, why don't we go up to my room? I have my equipment there, and it would be the easiest way."
Fine with me. I followed her up the stairs to her bedroom door, and I was doing a hell of a nice job of limping, going "Aaagghhh," now and then, as if each step I took killed me just a little bit more.
Well, I did feel a sort of strain in my thighs, and she'd hit the nail on the head; it was the horseback riding from yesterday. But it was nothing serious, just a cramp – just a pretext.
"Should I undress?" I asked, starting to pull off my top.
"It's not necessary," Aunt Cheryl replied, getting her black bag. She was wearing a short-sleeved white blouse, through which I could just make out the shape of her pink bra, and a pair of white slacks. Her costume looked very professional. Her hand clutched very tightly at the strap of her bag and her knuckles were pale white. I looked up at her eyes and there was no way she could mask what was in them. Not from me, not when I knew what to look for.
"Well," I said, "at least I'll have to take off my pants so you can get at the trouble zone, right?" And before she could say anything I had popped the button and the cutoffs just slid down my legs, leaving me bare from about three inches north of my navel all the way to my ankles. "It's right here," I added, touching myself at the joint of my hip and thigh, no more than half an inch from the eastern edge of my mat of soft golden pussy hair. "Ooohh," I added, "it hurts, too."
"Let me look," Aunt Cheryl said. She had a tan, but under that coat of gold her face was going pale white. She knelt, then said, "Here, sit on the edge of the bed. Okay. Now I'm going to touch you and you tell me where it hurts most."
She put her finger on the joint of my leg, on the outer edge, and I made a little mewing sound. Slowly her fingers, still pressing down, began to move across the rounded curve of my upper thigh, toward the place where I'd touched myself earlier. She moved slowly, almost reluctantly. I wanted to giggle, but I made myself stifle the urge.
"Oh, I can feel it more and more, you're getting closer," I said, "yes, I think – oooohhh!! – right there!" and I pushed her finger down upon my skin to emphasize it. This was starting to be fun.
"Let me see," she said, and I was always taught to be obliging to my elders, so I spread my legs wider. I saw Aunt Cheryl glance at my crotch. She couldn't have missed the flat of my pink pussy when my legs opened. There's not enough hair to cover my slit even when my legs are closely, virginally together, and right now I was spraddled almost far enough to make room between my accommodating thighs. My pussy was on display and the lips were showing, the little pink lips, protruding the way they do, like a small pink tongue showing in my slit. Which would you rather see? I asked her silently. My aching thigh or my itching twat? I saw her eyes move this way, then that, and I felt so Goddamned smug, knowing.
She tried, God love her, how she tried! To be professional, I mean. Ever since Kim had turned me on and opened up my eyes, I had known what was really pulsating inside Aunt Cheryl's heart, and the urges became stronger, less controllable.
"It hurts over here, too," I said, pointing to the other hip joint. Her eyes moved slowly, from the left to the right, and she spent what seemed a long time looking at my beaver before she reached out and gingerly touched my right thigh, in the place I'd indicated. Her fingers trembled as they came down onto my skin. I felt the hesitation, the frustration, as it coursed through her body. Something seemed to pop inside me.
"Oh, damn it," I said, and I reached down with both hands and lifted her face toward mine. "I know," I told her. "I know what you're thinking, what you're wondering about, what you want to do. I know why Uncle Bill has been getting the cold shoulder from you in bed. I know why you get all fluttery in the guts when I touch you or you touch me. Go ahead, Aunt Cheryl. I don't hurt anywhere. It was just a gimmick to get you up here, alone with me, to give you the chance to find out that I want it too. Touch me. Please. Not like a nurse. Touch me like a woman."
"Elizabeth," she said, hoarsely, and her eyes seemed to flip aver in their sockets. She shook her head, long brunette hair swishing around her face, and she started to get up. As she did, I caught her by the wrist and I pulled her hand into my crotch.
"No," she said, turning pale, then flushing. "No, I can't, you're just a child; you don't know what you're doing," but her fingers were in my bush then, and her nails scraped across the cleft of my sex. She felt my wetness, my slickness, and her eyes met mine and she was fucking hooked!
She kept on rising, but not far – only far enough that our mouths could come together. And when I kissed my aunt on her small, moist-lipped mouth, I learned things about kissing that not even Kim had taught me. Our lips connected, and Aunt Cheryl's hand closed on my cunt. She pushed me backward, onto the bed, mounting me where I lay, her all-too-willing victim. Victim? Was I, really? Hadn't I manipulated her into this whole thing? As she lay upon me, squeezing my twat and sucking my mouth, I began to wonder.
We rolled a little, and I lifted my bare legs and folded them around Aunt Cheryl. She oozed into my embrace. She was hot inside her dress whites, the energy of her body so obvious, so noticeable, so fiery against me that it scared me just a little. My tongue shot out, and she captured it in her mouth, sucked it with an expertise that left me thrilled and delighted at the same time. She made her hand tremble where it clutched my cunt. One of her fingers lay along the line of my slice, slipping in and out of my vulva as her hand flexed. There was this incredible sensation at my clit. I had planned to seduce Aunt Cheryl, to confront her with the lesbian, passion she obviously had for me, but things had slipped out of my control. During the past few minutes, she lay atop me, and in spite of her bra and white blouse, I was more than slightly aware that her nipples were firm and taut at the caps of her breasts. I clenched my legs around her, moaned into her wet, sweet-tasting mouth, and slowly she rolled off me, until we were lying side by side on the bed. Her hand was still on my pussy and our faces were separated no more than a couple of inches. Both of us were panting – hard. My face was as flushed as hers.
"How did you know?" she asked. Her hand flexed on my pussy.
I couldn't help moaning. Her finger eased into me, a slender, delicate finger, stronger and longer than Kim's. More knowing? Sexier? I wasn't sure. Who could make comparisons at a time like this? My pussy was wet where she entered me, and I felt her finger give a tentative wiggle inside me.
"How did you guess?"
"You're easy to read," I sighed, stroking her face. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know? Uncle Bill told me you had turned off in bed…" her eyes got big and she drew back. For a moment her finger ceased its jiggle-wiggle in my twat. I reached down, stroked her arm and got her working again – "…yes, he told me. And, well, I've been helping him the last couple of days. You know what I mean? A fuck on the sofa, a blowjob in the print shop, and last night I let him bugger mein my bedroom. Well, don't look so shocked, Aunt Cheryl! Somebody had to help him! He's too much man to let waste, and you know that as well as I do! But yesterday everything started making sense to me – about you, I mean. I started reading your eyes and your body, and I knew what was on your mind, even if you couldn't bring yourself to show it. I turn you on, don't I? God, listen to me asking, while your finger does that kinky little trick in my pussy! Do you like my pussy? Is it tight and sweet? I know it's hot, and I know that a lot of people like it, but what about you? Tell me."
"I love it," Cheryl said. "I really love it. It's tight and it's hot and I'll bet it tastes like manna from heaven."
"So I've been told," I giggled, kissing her nose. "Do you want a taste? It's there, if you're hungry. It's there, Aunt Cheryl." She looked at me and I saw her shiver. We kissed again. And then…
As our mouths pound together, Aunt Cheryl kept one finger busy in my cunt. Her other hand covered one of my tits, which itself was more or less covered by the little tube bandeau I had put on this morning. As she felt the aroused warmth of me, her fingers began to quiver, and she jerked at the little strip of nylon, pulling it until my tit popped out, free, loose, the red nipple sticking out like a flagpole. Her fingers sought my nipple, closed on it, and I felt her sigh into my mouth, a dreamy, abandoned kind of sigh. She had no intention of turning back, even if she did sound and feel as guilty as Uncle Bill had, our first time together. Christ! I thought. Doesn't anyone just believe in having fun anymore? Does everybody have to moralize about it? I stuck my tongue into her mouth and reached down to help her caress my tits. Somehow we managed to get the bandeau slid down and both boobs into the open, and I kept guiding her hand back and forth, helping her stroke each tit and nipple in its turn.
"Now, that's it," I whispered into her mouth. "That's just right!"
She looked at me, eyes full of concern. I saw a reluctance in her expression but there was no tangible reluctance in the action of her hands. Fingers closed again and again on my stiff nipple; another finger plunged in short strokes, in and out of my sopping pussy. I couldn't lie still while she was doing it to me. "You know what I'm doing, don't you?" she said softly. "You've done it before. Right?"
"Mmm-mmmm," I agreed, cupping her cheeks, "but it feels very special with you. Please make love to me, Aunt Cheryl. I know you want to, as much as I want you to do it. I'm not very experienced, but I'm getting better and better at this. May have some surprises for you, mm?"
"You've given me plenty enough of those already?" she said, sliding down an the bed a little. My tits were bare now, both of them, and she began to lick at them. Her finger kept moving in and out of my twat and it felt good, but somehow I found her tongue even more erotic, more thrilling than the finger she had stuffed up my sex. She licked me, spilled a little drool onto my nip, worked it in with her tongue, then sucked me. She was a lot older than Kim, and she knew a lot more, too, I had to admit was all to my advantage, of course.
I got my fingers in her hair and played with her while she played with me. "Yes," I told her, "do that some more. It never feels the same when it's a woman sucking you, does it? Just not the same at all…"
The tube top was all I had on. My cutoffs were somewhere on the floor. It was a good way to be. Aunt Cheryl kissed and licked her way down my belly, into my navel for some rimming with her tongue, and then she was in my beaver, spreading me eagerly, ramming her tongue up me in one digging plunge after another. I squealed with glee and lifted one knee. She angled her face into my cunt and ate a little more, a little harder, and I bent my knee around the back of her neck, pulling her into me so there was no way she could have escaped even if she'd wanted to, which I didn't think she did. She kept dipping her tongue up my twat. She had both hands up on my tits now, mashing and squeezing them in a grip that belied her slender feminine build. She wasn't cruel, never, and the touch of her fingers was equally rough and exciting to me. I petted her fingers while she stroked me, and I worked my cunt up and up, ever into her avid, hungry face. Part of me was delighted to find that my hunch had been right on target. The rest of me was turned on like crazy by what she was doing to me. Smug and sexed-up, that was me. They were two of my favorite conditions. I remembered, feeling the live-wire whip of Aunt Cheryl's tongue, something that Kim had told me yesterday, about the lay of the land. Well, it looked as if that's what I was becoming. My exile in Colorado was turning out to be a pretty good thing after all, wasn't it? Aunt Cheryl's tongue fucked my clit and I thought, Oh, wow, yesssss!!!
"Come on," I said, "let's both get naked. It isn't fair that I should be and you aren't. Anyway, I want to see what you've got, Aunt Cheryl. Please?"
She lifted her head from my match. Her cheeks were fluted and her lips glistened. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then sat up, unbuttoning her white blouse as she did. It fell away and I hurried to help her. My hands went around her body, found the clasp of her pink bra, undid it, and the nylon cups fell away from her tits. I'd seen just a tantalizing glimpse of nipple through the semi-sheer nylon, but the real thing was better than any cheap peek. I cupped her tits and began to lick her big dark nipples while she undid her slacks and wiggled them down her legs. Under the slacks, she wore pantyhose, sheer all the way to her crotch, and even someone without my 20-20 could have seen the dark sexy expanse of pussy fur between her legs. I slid one hand down her belly and into the top of the pantyhose, and when I reached her gash, I was delighted to find out that she was as wet and ready as I was. Her lips were full and prominent, but not at all loose. I struggled with my finger until I was inside her, and she made an O-lipped moan as my fingertip entered her sweet hot hole. Then, she lay back, panting, nipples fiercely erect, and she looked up at me with anticipation gleaming in her brown eyes.
"How much do you really know, Elizabeth?" she asked, reaching up to touch the underside of my tit with the backs of her fingers. She brushed the stiffness of my eager nipple. "How much do you really know about making love to a woman?"
"I know this much," I said, planting a hot wet kiss on her mouth and moving swiftly to her tits. She wasn't big-busted, maybe B-cups, maybe 34s or 36s at the tops. Her boobs were pear-shaped and hung nicely on her chest. The nipples were very large, the size of silver dollars, with fat juicy tips already standing up to salute. My lips repaid the greeting, in spades, and I sucked until her teats were even stiffer, hotter, against my tongue. She moaned when my teeth dug into the firm but yielding flesh of her tits. Her hands wrapped around my head. I was pretty sure I'd answered her question satisfactorily.
"Let's get these down," I said, drool running down my chin, and I started tugging on her pantyhose. She lifted her ass to help, and I got them down, all the way down, and finally off, which was where they belonged. I sat a moment beside Aunt Cheryl's supine body, and I filled my eyes with the sight of her. She was lean and athletically-built, but her hips were full and her thighs seemed to invite the touch of fingers on their smooth lightly tanned surfaces. In fact, I did touch them, and they eased together, trapping my hands between them. I slid my fingers up and down the insides of Aunt Cheryl's thighs, from her knees to her fluffy, hairy bush. I could feel the droplets of moisture which coated her dark hairs. Slowly I let the edges of my hands bump her pussy again, again, again, and her legs spread.
"Better," I said, "but better still…" and with that I leaned down, using my fingers to open her gash.
She was very pink inside, not quite the same shade of pink as Kim and a much paler color, in fact, than the deep, luscious red of my own split twat. I came in closer and started to lick the edges of her labes. I had them spread widely, between the fringe of her pussy hair, across the smooth, fuzzless flesh, onto the rise of her pussy lips, and then – well, then I went down into the valley of her cunt. I started licking. Her clit was standing up, impossible to miss, much bigger than mine or Kim's, as fat as the end of my little finger and almost an inch long. I'd never seen a clit like that one before. Well, I'd only seen my own clit in a mirror and Kim's firsthand, so maybe I wasn't the best judge, but as soon as my tongue slid over the quivery tip of her nubbin I knew that I was licking a clit that deserved all the attention I could give it. I closed my lips around her big sex button, felt her shiver and quake, and I started to suck her avidly. She tasted better with each pull of my hungry lips, and somehow I was glad it had worked out this way, glad that I had taken the chance and played my instinct about Aunt Cheryl.
"Suck it, you sweet little bitch!" I heard her gasp, and she managed to get her hands onto my body. We were lying side by side, my feet angled toward her head. She grabbed me by the snatch and pulled, and when someone's tugging on your pussy, there's not much resistance you can make. I let myself be guided, without missing a single suck or swipe on her clit, and then she was pulling me onto her. I'd 69ed with guys, and Kim and I had given it a brief try yesterday, while we were sunning ourselves after our second swim, but I'd been too excited to be much good in my first lesbian 69. I was still excited, sure, but I had a better grasp of what was going on now, and I felt a surge of joy speed through my body as my puss settled down onto Aunt Cheryl's face.
"Sweet," she murmured into my cunt, and she put her hands on my ass, spreading me widely. I squashed my wet hole down upon her seeking mouth, felt her tongue slip inside. I knew more of the ropes this time around. I kept on working her clit, and as she began to tongue in and out of me, doing just what I'd have done to myself if I'd been able to bend like a pretzel and get my face between my thighs, I let my tongue slide down her pink vulva, toward the contracting mouth of her own cunt. I thrust into her, five or six times, quickly and she jerked with each stab, but she didn't let up for a second what she was doing to me in reply/response, and my excitement was dynamite and I could feel that hers was very, very similar. No two ways about it. Aunt Cheryl might be a cold fish next to Uncle Bill in bed, but when she had another woman to work on, she was hot as a two-dollar pistol.
Taste? Not quite like Kim's, not quite like my own. Different. Older, more mature, almost like fine, aged wine. God, I thought, can you develop so much in such a short time? She was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight, hardly ten years older than I was, but she tasted like a woman, and I knew I would never forget the essence of that fragrance as long as I lived. Juice leaked from her hole and I drank it sloppily but erotically, using my tongue in and out of her pussy with a vengeance.
And she was doing it to me, doing it with a skill that proved beyond question she was no virgin at this act. Her tongue played clever, craft games across my spread pussy, in and out of my hole, over my clit. The ooze bubbled from my hole into her mouth. She drank, lustily.
I was trying to keep up with her. I could feel the excitement bubbling in her simmery twat, and I kept my tongue busy, sliding it up her rippling hole, into the pit from which her sweet fragrant juices flowed. She did the same to me, both of us acting in a perfect kind of counterpoint that I was accustomed to from guy/girl fucking but had not yet exactly found with another woman. Even Kim, who had been so perfect and delicious, had more or less alternated with me, one of us working, then the other. The lessons Kim had given me were paying off though, paying off spectacularly! If I knew pussies, and I was pretty sure I did, Aunt Cheryl was on the verge of coming. The knowledge made me quiver with anticipation and I thrust my tongue up her, probing deeply in her sweet juicy hole, tickling her innards, coaxing her to do it, do it, do it!!!
She came first, an unmistakable orgasmic eruption against my sucking mouth, and I heard her moan into my pussy. I just buried my face in her thickly furred crotch and drank everything that oozed from her tasty crack. I pressed this way and that, rocking through the come with Aunt Cheryl, teasing her and fulfilling her at the seine time. She made fitful licks at my puss, but she was occupied principally with her own climax and I couldn't blame her. My turn was coming.
As her cunt began to subside in its intensity, I squatted a little tighter down upon her face and wiggled my snatch from side to side. She moaned, a deep guttural sound, but she got the message, and her tongue shot into me. It felt good and I rocked with growing fervor, taking all she could hand out. Which was plenty. Oh, God, was it! I had my finger up her cunt, reminding her that Elizabeth Jo was still on the job, and she licked me inside out. Then I was coming too, bursts of sweet cummy ecstasy flooding through my body. All of it centered around my pussy hole, where Aunt Cheryl's tongue kept ramming in and out while one of her fingers stroked and strummed the bud of my clit and the other stroked its way up and down my ass crack, paying more attention than I could fucking endure to my puckering little asshole itself. I thought she was going to stick her finger up me, the way Uncle Bill had stuck his cock into that particular hole last night on my guestroom bed. Jesus, I was hoping! And for the longest, sweetest moment, I felt her gouging at my tender red pucker, and I gasped. Apparently that was all it took. I started to climax, all over Aunt Cheryl's sucking mouth and tongue. She wormed up into my pussy from underneath, eating all I had, sucking harder and harder in her unending quest for more. Yes, I thought, my last coherent reflection before I went over the edge, I hadn't misjudged my aunt, not in the slightest. She was a born cunt lapper. I only hoped that my cunt would get its full fair share of her loving oral attention.
And indeed I promised myself, coming into her mouth, there was no way I would do without some of this – lots of this – in the time I'd be staying here with Aunt Cheryl and Uncle Bill. A long residence, off to the most promising start you could imagine. I'd had them both, and I would have them both. Again and again and again, the way I was coming, again and again and again.