It was easily one of the very worst days of my entire
All week I’d been thinking and dreaming about my
Saturday night date with Lynda Griffith. You don’t
know her, of course, but you probably know somebody a
lot like her. Most guys here at State would kill for
the chance to spend an evening with Lynda, and she had
said “yes” to me.
But on Friday I got shot down. In flames. And with no
Obviously Lynda had found somebody with more going than
she thought I had. I’m not rich, and I don’t drive a
car whose model number includes the letter “Z”. There
are worse-looking guys, but there are better-looking
What hurt the most was, the bitch didn’t even have the
hair to tell me she was cancelling our date at almost
the last minute. She gave the message to my goddamn
Most people don’t believe Noelle is my aunt. She’s my
dad’s youngest sister — half-sister, actually; they
don’t have the same mother — and she’s twenty-four
years younger than Dad. In fact, she’s six days
younger than _I_ am. But her father is my Grand-dad,
and that makes her my aunt, any way you cut it.
Both Aunt Noelle and I are students here at State. We
see each other pretty often around campus, though we
don’t have any classes together. She does have a
couple of courses with Lynda, though, and that’s how
she happened to get delegated to give me the bad news.
“I’m really sorry, Craig,” Noelle told me, after
passing along the message. “Lynda is pretty, but she’s
also kind of a bitch.” I just shrugged her off. I
knew it wasn’t her fault, but remember how they used to
treat the messenger that brought bad news?
I wasn’t being especially nice to Noelle. At the
moment the sting of Lynda’s kissoff left me pretty
insensitive to my aunt. We hadn’t seen much of each
other when we were growing up — just at holidays,
because Dad’s folks lived so far away from us — but
we’d always been close when we were together, more like
brother and sister than aunt and nephew. And now I
just turned and walked away from her, lost in my own
Friday was a really down day for me. I bought a
six-pack on the way home, and I rented a couple of porn
tapes at the video shop. Maybe watching Jeanna Fine
and Amber Lynn in action would make me feel better. I
couldn’t feel much worse, could I?
Anyway, they were both gorgeous bleach-blondes, just
like my faithless Lynda, and if I wasn’t going to be
with her, I could at least scope out a couple of
lookalikes. It was definitely as close as I would get
to some hot sex, this weekend.
After fixing myself some mac’n’cheese, I cracked the
six-pack and settled down at the tv. The tapes were
pretty good, and damn hot in the bargain. I mean,
The sight of Jeanna Fine deep-throating ten inches of
black dick made my balls ache with envy. I had
homework to do, but it could fucking wait, as far as I
was concerned. My cock began to throb inside my pants,
and I stroked it as I watched the porn videos.
My place was a sleazy little dump, but cheap enough
that I didn’t have to split it with a roommate. If I
wanted to take my dick out while I watched fuck tapes,
I could do it. And I did. I had my prick in my fist,
stroking the swollen boner with a lazy rhythm.
The images on the small screen kept me hard and I
didn’t even hit the fast forward to get through the
talk scenes. It wasn’t nearly as good as what some
lucky son of a bitch — who shoulda been me! — was
getting from Lynda Griffith tonight, but it wasn’t
quite as bad as it could have been.
You should always watch a fuck film the whole way
through, before you get yourself off, because the next
scene might be a real doozie. This tape was hot as the
bonfire under a Salem witch; it just got better and
I was pretty sure I’d save my squirtoff for a replay of
the scene where this hot, skinny redhead with sweet
cupcake tits took on four guys at once — two in the
mouth and one each in her asshole and her cunt, with a
fourway cum shot that showered her whole body — but I
still needed to check out the rest of it. Just in
And that’s when the fucking phone rang.
I turned down the volume on the tv but let the tape
run. I was still playing with my peter, just stroking
it, when I picked up the phone. There was no voice,
but I could hear soft breathing. “Hello?” I said.
I was about to slam the receiver down — who needs shit
like this, when you’re trying to get your nuts off,
right? — when a soft breathless voice spoke my name.
It was all I could do to hear her, but the sound of her
voice was startlingly sexy in my ear. “Can you talk a
little louder?” I asked. “Who is this, anyway?
Lynda?” I had this wild fantasy that she’d changed her
mind and was calling me to apologize, to beg for the
pleasure of my company.
“No,” she whispered, “it’s not Lynda. What are you
doing, Craig? Do you have time to talk to me, even if
I’m not Lynda?”
I heard her take a very deep breath. Her voice didn’t
get any louder, but the words came out a little faster.
“I’ve been thinking about you for a long time,” she
said softly. “And tonight I thought I’d call and tell
you some of the things I’ve been thinking about. Do
you know where my hand is while I’m talking to you,
Craig?” I heard a sniffing sound, then a soft giggle.
“My finger smells like tuna fish.”
I could’ve shit my pants when I heard that.
“And my finger is wet,” she told me. “It feels like I
just peed on it. Oooh, it’s _still_ wet down there.
I’m touching my pussy again, Craig, rubbing my finger
up and down my crack. I don’t have any panties on, and
I’m pretending that it’s your finger on my pussy — my
soft, _wet_ pussy … ”
Holy Jesus! I’d never had an obscene phone call
before, but I sure had one on the line now. The tape
was still playing. Fuck the tape! I hit the “stop”
button. “Who are you?” I asked, more than a little
piqued by curiosity. “Do you know me? Do _I_ know
“I doubt it,” my caller purred. “If you did, you’d
know how much I like you — _really_ like you, Craig —
the way a girl is supposed to like a guy, not the way.
She cleared her throat, then started to talk faster, as
if she’d just said something she shouldn’t have. “So
tell me about your cock, Craig. I bet you have a big
one. I bet it gets really hard when it’s excited, too.
Is it getting excited now? Is it getting hard?”
I laughed hoarsely. “Shit, baby, I’m ‘way ahead of
you! And the dirtier you talk to me, the harder my
“Take it out of your pants,” she suggested. “Stroke
it, and I’ll tell you all of the things I’d be doing to
your big beautiful cock if I was there with you.”
I didn’t tell her it was already out, and in my hand.
“Thrill me,” I urged. The truth was, I was more than
slightly excited already. Wasn’t that Lynda’s voice?
Fuck, it _had_ to be! I knew in my guts that it was
Lynda who had called me and that she was just playing
this teasy game because that was the kind of girl she
“I’d be on my knees in front of you,” she murmured into
the phone. “With my shirt off so you could touch my
tits, and with both of my hands holding that big
luscious cock of yours. I’d stroke every inch of it —
can you feel my fingers walking up and down your cock,
Craig? Just like I was there with you?”
Jesus, I could! I gripped my tool tightly and gave it
a few shakes, clenching my teeth lest I get too carried
away. I’d been whacking off for a good while and my
dick was on a hair trigger anyway, but the soft sexy
whisper that oozed into my ear did absolutely nothing
for my self-control.
A bubble of cum emerged from the slit, milking my
finger. I rubbed it into the flesh and kept on
stroking myself — slowly, carefully. And I listened.
There’s a hell of a lot to be said for phone sex. It
was sure making up for what I had figured to be a lost
The things my caller poured into my ear were hair
curlers. She had fantasies that left me speechless.
And I was the male lead in _all_ of them! Whoever this
lady was — and I was starting to think it was _not_ my
faithless Lynda — she had obviously been thinking
about me for quite a while. That excited me
tremendously. A secret admirer of my very own.
My dick couldn’t handle it. I squirted while she was
midway through her breathless description of the way
she’d blow me. My hand filled with hot cum and my
prick quivered in the throes of orgasm.
“I heard you sigh, Craig,” she purred kittenishly.
“Did I make you come already?”
I looked at my cock. It was still hard as iron. “No,
baby,” I lied, “it’s gonna take more than that to get
me off. …”
She had more. Jesus, did she have more! I came again
to the image of this sexy-voiced lady on her knees,
using both hands to split her ass so I could jam my big
hard tool into her sweet little butthole. She moaned,
as if I were really there, doing it to her, and I could
almost feel my prick slipping into the tightness of
this beauty’s asshole. Her moans wrenched at my balls,
and I squeezed my cock one, two, three times, and then
I was squirting again.
“I heard you, Craig,” she laughed, “and this time you
can’t shit me. I made you come, didn’t I?”
“Why don’t you meet me face to face and see if you can
do it again?” I countered. “Like, this _is_ a local
call? We _could_ meet?”
“We could,” she agreed, “but maybe you wouldn’t want
I stood up, gave my dick a flip. Two loads squirted,
and it hadn’t gone soft a bit. “Come to my place and
find out,” I said. “Please???”
I waited for two hours, certain that she had decided
not to take my challenge. I showered, sprayed my
armpits, even watched a little more of the porn tapes
just to keep my desires hot. But not even Amber Lynn
on the tv screen could begin to compare, in my mind,
with the image of my unknown caller. I still halfway
thought it was Lynda, and I was dying to know.
Just before midnight, my doorbell rang, and I jumped.
I was in my robe, naked underneath, just in case. I
even had a pack of condoms in the pocket. Just in
case. Man, I _ran_ to the fucking door! But when I
opened it my heart hit the floor.
“Hi, Craig,” said my aunt Noelle. “I saw your light
was still on, and …”
I tried not to let the disappointment show. The main
thing was to get her out of the way, because I was
still certain that my caller would show up. And the
last thing you need when you’re meeting your secret
admirer is to have your aunt hanging around.
Aunt Noelle was looking pretty good tonight, though, I
had to admit as I let her in. She’s a redhead — it
runs in the family — and a little on the pudgy side
but not exactly fat. You wouldn’t call her a raving
beauty, I suppose — not like Lynda Griffith — but she
was a nicer person than Lynda, and I thought her green
eyes and freckles gave Aunt Noelle a sweet, wholesome
I supposed she had been on a date, though she didn’t go
out all that much. She sat down while I got her a
beer, and her coat opened to show off her fleshy
thighs. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, as
if she were nervous.
“I, uh, was just about to go to bed,” I told her,
smoothing my robe.
She picked up one of my rented cassettes. “_Black and
Blonde_?” she asked, reading the title. “Porn? Is it
any good?” I just shrugged. “Are you still feeling
bad about Lynda?” she went on, crossing her legs again.
“Not really,” I confessed. “I think I’ve forgotten
about her.” Aunt Noelle’s eyebrows lifted. “I, uh,
sorta met someone else tonight. We haven’t really
_met_, just talked on the phone, but, uh, it’s a little
hard to describe, I guess — ” Christ, why was I
telling her all this?
She stood up. Her face was pale and her green eyes had
gone misty. “Someone who’s been thinking about you for
a long time?” she said in a soft whispery voice.
“Someone you don’t really know — at all — because if
you did, you’d know that she thought of you in ways she
wasn’t supposed to?”
“Holy Jesus,” I croaked. The voice on my telephone.
Aunt Noelle. _She_ was the one who had called me,
jerked me off, made me come!
She opened her coat. Under it she was wearing just a
frilly pink teddy. She didn’t look pudgy at all. Her
full, lush tits filled out the bodice, with tantalizing
glimpses of freckled cleavage on display to my eyes
only. Her thighs were firm and pink. It was the first
time I’d ever considered my aunt as a girl.
And she was just a girl. Younger than I am, even if
she is my aunt, and blushing like a spring rose as my
eyes drank in the sight of her. Her nipples were hard
under the satiny fabric of her teddy, and the front of
my robe began to lance outward as my cock erected
inside. I glanced down at the swelling and said, “Does
that tell you anything?”
She came toward me, but I was already moving, and we
met midway. I put my arms around her, our bodies
oozing together. She looked up at me for what seemed
an eternity and then our lips mashed together. I
cupped her buttocks, remembering that wild ass-fuck
fantasy that had made me squirt like a volcano, and I
rubbed my erection against her crotch.
“I don’t know if we oughta be doing this,” I said, “but
I really think it’s a little too late to stop.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” said my aunt Noelle.
I rolled out the daybed and the two of us mounted it.
We kept on kissing. She had a wet, limber tongue that
excited me no end. My hands were all over her body. I
unlaced the front of her teddy and filled my palms with
her sweaty, jiggly tits. They were soft as dough, and
she moaned into my mouth as I manipulated her boobs.
Nipples couldn’t get any harder than hers were. I
leaned down to lick them, and stayed to suck.
My mouth spread wide, gulping her tit inside. I
glanced up, saw that her eyes were closed and her lips
fluttering. I pulled the teddy downward, baring the
rest of Noelle’s body.
Once I had her naked, down to the puff of red hair
between her thighs, it was damn hard to think of this
woman as my aunt. I couldn’t believe that I had never
before taken her seriously as a female. I was sure
taking her seriously now.
I went down on her. My lips thirsted for the taste of
the pink gash that shined among her red pussyhairs.
When I got my tongue into Noelle’s crack, it was
sweeter than I could have imagined. It didn’t taste a
thing like tuna.
My dad would have shit if he’d seen me eating out his
younger half-sister, but my lips were coated with the
juices oozing out of Aunt Noelle, and her clit was as
hard and as big as a pecan, and she pumped her cunt
into my face with a passion.
But I wasn’t the only one who had a thing about eating.
I sucked Aunt Noelle to a wet, moaning climax, and
while she was still gasping, she fought herself out
from under me and knocked me flat on my back. She
grabbed my dick with both hands and yanked it hard.
“It was never fair,” she husked. “We should have been
boyfriend and girlfriend, not an aunt and her nephew.
Ever since I got big enough to notice things, I wanted
to be your girlfriend, not your aunt.”
And then she took my cock in her mouth. I’d been
dreaming for weeks about what Lynda Griffith’s lips
might feel like, wrapped around my peter. The fantasy
was absolutely _nothing_ next to the reality of
watching my rod vanish into Noelle’s mouth.
I don’t know where she learned to eat dick that good.
Her throat was bottomless and she gulped me straight to
the nuts, moaning around her hot hard mouthful. Her
slobber ran down my shaft and her tongue drove me wild.
I came in her mouth. There was no way I could not come
in her mouth, the way she was sucking me. Her green
eyes were focused on my face, and I saw them roll as my
cum spray splashed her tongue. She drank down my semen
and she kept on sucking furiously. My dick pulsated
along her tongue, harder than before.
The lips that clutched tightly around my sperm-dripping
prick were the same ones that had purred such delicious
obscenities into my ears on the phone. They were the
same lips that I had dutifully kissed a hundred times
at family reunions and once or twice under the
mistletoe. I held Aunt Noelle’s tits, squeezing the
ripe, sweaty pastries while she finished drinking my
load. “C’mere,” I gasped.
I pulled her up to my face and kissed her hard. I
could taste my sperm on her lips but I didn’t mind. My
hand was down between her legs, spreading and tickling
her gash. She opened her legs wider and invited my
finger to stab home.
I pushed into her wet, hot tunnel and fingerfucked her
for what felt like years. She came two or three times,
into the hollow of my hand. I licked her juice off my
flesh, gave her a taste of it too, and then I got on
top of my aunt with my peter stiff and horny.
First I rubbed my knob all over her cunt, stimulating
her clit again. She was squirming and moaning wildly.
I used the knob to open her gash, and then I pushed
into Noelle’s hole. She sucked in her breath as my
cock speared deeply. My groin came to rest against
hers. I was buried in the wet heat of her twat, and it
was good to be there.
By the time I splattered her gash with my cockmilk, I
was finished for the night. Aunt Noelle was weak from
orgasms, too weak to move, and we just slept there
together. First thing in the morning, I woke up to
find my cock in her mouth, a load just ready to spill
onto her tongue. I closed my eyes and let her have her
way with me. She said it was a better pick-me-up than
We didn’t get around to her assfucking fantasy until
the next afternoon, but when we did, it was magic. I’d
never had my tool in a girl’s butt before, and Aunt
Noelle had never taken one there, either. But she was
wet and willing, and with the help of Crisco I busted
her buns but good. She didn’t go home that night,
either. We spent the whole goddamn weekend, fucking
each other crazy, until it was time for Monday morning
But both of us are smart enough to know the
relationship doesn’t have any real potential. Even if
we are the same age, she’s still my aunt. Our family
would have a collective hemorrhage if we became a
permanent item. That doesn’t keep us from fucking.
Mostly we do it in person, but now and then we spend an
evening on the phone, just like that first time.
What really surprised me was that Aunt Noelle had
obviously been having lots of fantasies about me, for
years and years. I’d never thought of her as a woman
until the moment she opened her coat and showed me that
Now that I’ve buried my dick in her hole more times
than Ed Meese has been indicted, I can’t think of her as
anything but a woman, and I have fantasies about her
that would send a tv evangelist into hog heaven. But
I’ve lived most of those fantasies out. If you want
the proof, just take a whiff of my cock sometime.
I never did get a second chance with Lynda Griffith,
but I don’t much give a shit. If you call me a
motherfucker, I might just kick your ass up alongside
your shoulders. But if you call me an aunteater,
there’s not much I can do but hang my head and grin.