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Please note:

1 I hope that readers will understand that none of the characters or locations in this story are intended as stereotypes. I have simply invented random details for fun and to help make it more vivid.

2 This episode was originally intended as a brief introductory section to what happened after Ch 1, but my imagination ran away with me and it seemed a shame to condense it. Some folk will like this naughty smouldering but non-sizzling chapter but it won’t appeal to all — hopefully chapter 3 will have wider appeal. Please bear this in mind if posting comments!


Mark felt both excited and nervous as he boarded the train with his forty-eight year old Auntie Pat, his mother’s sister. He was eighteen (and a half!) years old, somewhat shy, and had not had many girlfriends. In fact apart from teenage gropes and fumbles, he could count on the fingers of both hands the number of times he had had sex before his sexy aunt had seduced him. She was visiting his parents, and his sexual experiences with her over the past ten days now outweighed his previous encounters put together.

Today she could have driven, but a car would not have suited her plans so well. She had shared her idea with him, a “story” which she invited him to help her to turn to reality. He had agreed, loving the sound of the fantasy that she wanted to act out, but feeling slightly nervous about it. She had laughed and told him that nervousness would add to the fun. She had also said that she loved fantasy and role-play, and that if he enjoyed this one she would share some others with him.

She had stressed that it was purely a fantasy, based on the experience of a friend of hers some years earlier who had done it for real. His aunt had become fascinated by it. As she had spoken to her friend, she had discreetly sought out details, how this or that part of things was worked out, and had watched — and recorded — a couple of television documentaries, too.

Today his aunt was dressed conservatively in a floral top (tight enough to show her small, high-mounted breasts, but cut high enough to show a few inches of skin below her neck but no cleavage) and a knee-length green skirt. Although of modest length, it was tight and stretched in alluring creases across her belly and thighs. It hugged her hips and shapely backside, and the split in its back revealed small, though tantalising, flashes of bare, pale thigh as she walked.

Under her skirt she had put on a brief pair of panties — not too tiny, but scantier than a woman her age would normally wear. Their scantiness caused her bum cheeks to move sensually as she walked, and the teasing outline of her panties showed through her tight skirt. Her black court shoes were tall enough to emphasise the sway of her hips as she walked along.

It would take about an hour and a half for the train to reach their destination about eighty miles away – the nearest reasonably sized town where there was a decent range of shops. Shopping for a few clothes was the first — and subsidiary — part of her plan.

Equally importantly, it was far enough from his home (and three times as far from hers) to minimise their risk of being recognised. She had checked out for herself another important criterion a couple of days earlier.

They found two vacant seats on the train, though most seats in the carriage were taken. Once the train set off he struggled to make conversation, distracted by his excitement and nerves. In addition, he had to avoid looking too intently into her face, and to avoid looking at her breasts as well. It was possible that, still close to his home town, he might be recognised — and suspicions aroused.

They made small talk for a while. He knew that she must be excited too, and marvelled at how relaxed she seemed as she browsed through the glossy gossip magazine she had bought. He glanced through the daily paper he had with him but found it hard to remain calm.

On her prior instruction he had not switched on his mobile phone that morning, but, also on her instruction, he did so about twenty minutes into the journey. He had an alert of three text messages. She was far from expert at texting, and each message was short. She had sent them before they set off to avoid them both obviously sending and receiving texts at the same time on the train. He made sure that his screen could not be seen, then opened his mailbox.

hi im hot n horny n tryin not to look at u. u hard?

cant w8 4 u to grope and suck my tits. awake half nite n had 2 play

cant w8 2 ride u young stud. thinking bout it rite now

He looked across at her, but she pretended not to notice. He pulled the newspaper he had bought over his rising erection.

After a while he pretended to doze off as his aunt browsed through her magazine. This had other advantages than preventing the need for small talk while so horny. With his eyes barely open he could check out the reflections of some of the other masaj porno travellers.

Opposite was a busty student with a low-cut tee shirt. Further along was a mother with a young child. She leaned across to tend to her child a few times and although her skirt did not rise very high, it was worth having. He could also glance in the window nearest to him his aunt’s reflection, her spectacled, slightly lined face, and her modest, but lovely, firm breasts. He glanced along the outline of her bra cups as they showed through her top.

From time to time he opened his eyes and chatted to her about her magazine. This also gave him better opportunities — though he had to be careful — to check out the reflection in the train window of the student and the young mother.

The whole situation made his stomach flutter like a child’s. Here he was on a train with a mature woman heading out of town for sex. And not just sex; kinky, role-play sex. He was young and inexperienced, she was mature and VERY experienced. He wondered how many times she had experienced sex and how many partners she had been with over the years. He couldn’t help wondering either, how far her boundaries lay.

The crowning glory of course was that she was his mother’s sister. He felt a twinge of shame and remorse. While his parents were out at work, he had been secretly screwing his mother’s sister in the house and was travelling with her for more of the same.

Then he reminded himself that, to be fair, the guilt lay mainly with his aunt. Although he had lusted after her — and jacking off thinking about her — she had made the first move, and, to be fair, he had initially resisted her advances more than many lads of his age would have.

Besides, the cloak-and-dagger routine, and even the guilt and shame were part of the thrill. They had to be careful when and where they did it so that they did not have to close and re-open curtains too much during the day. Fortunately his parents had some original watercolours in the lounge which they screened from the daytime sun with vertical blinds, and his dad also often left the blinds closed during the day in the spare room which he had converted to an office.

Then there was the conscious and determined effort involved in not looking at his aunt in a significant way while his parents were around, and the invented stories that he and she both contrived as to what they had been doing on a given day.

Today gave him a bigger buzz — and a hard-on that was difficult to dispel. Their intentions were entirely unsuspected by their fellow passengers, who would be shocked and disgusted if they knew. And each interim station where the train stopped brought their destination and purpose closer, and heightened his excitement.

As they finally pulled into their station, his pulse quickened. They got off, and his aunt headed for the toilet, agreeing to meet him by the newspaper stand on the platform that backed onto the one where they had arrived.

The toilets were across the footbridge, on Platform 3. Mark remained where he was, and watched her walk towards the steps. He glanced at the slit in the back of her green skirt as the backs of her pale, bare lower thighs flashed sensually in and out of view. He glanced casually around. With a thrill he realised that he was not the only one who was looking at his sexy, forty-eight year old aunt.

A bloke in his thirties spotted the split in her skirt. He glanced furtively as she walked past him and ahead of him. So did a male student — about his own age. A middle-aged businessman in a suit and with a briefcase also latched onto her as she went past him.

Mark watched the man speed up a little to keep pace with her. He was trying to appear casual, glancing around from time to time to avoid appearing to stare at the bum and legs of the woman in front of him. He ensured that he kept the same distance from her. He walked close enough to her to prevent anyone else stepping between them and robbing him of his view, yet far enough back to allow him to feast his eyes. His judicious distance enabled him not only to gaze at her shapely bum but also down at her slender thighs that the slit in her skirt revealed with each step she took.

The businessman followed her to the bottom of the steps, and Mark saw his gaze fix on her backside, no doubt admiring her round bum cheeks and the line of her brief panties through her tight green skirt. Mark felt a twinge in his groin as the man followed his aunt up the steps, his face just inches from her tempting bum, as they ascended the steps leading from the platform. He could imagine the poor bloke longing to reach out and slide his hand inside the slit of her skirt, or tracing his fingers along the outline of her saucy panties.

It was especially thrilling that his aunt, whom he had always considered to be conservative, was playing the minx, positively courting hungry looks from strangers — and doing it under her nephew’s eye.

Although the meet suck and fuck porno footbridge barrier reached just above waist height, he could still see the businessman’s eyes fixed below her waist as she walked across. Mark watched him continue reluctantly to the exit, casting his gaze back at her one last time as she turned right and down the steps to the other platform.

His aunt feigned oblivion as she headed to the ladies’ toilet and disappeared from view. She only emerged nearly twenty minutes later, as a train pulled into that platform. By then a good number of the passengers on the various platforms had dispersed and been replaced by others.

The train hid her from Mark’s view at first, but then he saw her walking back towards the footbridge. With a thrill he noticed that she had removed her bra, and although her breasts were small, they jigged subtly and arousingly up and down as she walked. Again he spotted several men, of various ages leering at her.

The strap of her shoulder bag slipped. She made a sudden lurch to grab it and as she did so her carrier bag fell from her hand. She squatted on her haunches to retrieve it and a bloke in his forties went to her aid. She smiled innocently and gratefully, and he could see their lips moving in speech.

Mark knew, however, that she had staged the whole thing to lure some bloke or other close. Unsurprisingly the guy who had offered to help her was now eyeing her breasts, maybe looking for her nipples through her top. He also glanced discreetly but hungrily at the taut fabric of her skirt across her lap. Her legs were slightly parted, too. Her panties were kept hidden by the tightness and length of her skirt, but Mark — and no doubt others — could see the backs of her slender thighs where her skirt hung down vertically.

She straightened up and smiled again in thanks to the bloke who had helped her. Then she continued the rest of the way to the footbridge. Two blokes in their thirties who were walking behind her nudged each other and pointed at her. Although Mark’s aunt was subtly but consciously flaunting herself to them, she pretended not to notice their interest.

A surge of desire and smugness flooded over Mark him, knowing that he would soon be having what they were lusting for. As she headed over the footbridge to rejoin him he walked slowly to the newspaper stall on the adjoining platform where they had arranged to meet.

From the moment she came to re-join him on this railway platform far from his home,, her behaviour was transformed.

She walked over to him and kissed him on the mouth, stroking his cheek. A twinge of embarrassment, shame and arousal ran down his spine. A couple in their forties saw them, and looked at each other in surprise. His aunt smiled intently at him, and took his hand in hers.

As she planned, a few heads turned to make sure that their eyes were not deceiving them and that they really were seeing a lad in his late teens holding hands with a woman old enough to be his mother. Several shook their heads disapprovingly, though their disapproval would have been far greater if they had known or guessed the full truth. He avoided eye contact with anyone, trying to focus straight ahead. As they went up the now-crowded platform steps he stepped ahead of her, imagining and aroused by the thought of the eyes of other blokes checking out his teasing aunt as she went up in front of them. He thought of their faces and hands just inches from his aunt’s backside, and from her legs, exposed by the split in her skirt.

She linked her arm through his as they left the station forecourt and made for the shopping precinct. A few more stares, raised eyebrows and head-shakes followed them. A few hungry looks came from various blokes. One, rushing past them, stared briefly but overtly at the subtle bouncing of her breasts under her top. She turned to kiss her nephew, took his arm, and placed it around her slender waist.

Mark went bright red, but his aunt laughed. She was getting off on their public display of affection and desire. She leaned closer to him and said quietly, “Good job he doesn’t know that I’m your naughty auntie and that in a couple of hours we’ll be getting down and dirty, hun!”

They headed into one of the department stores, and got onto the escalator. This time he let her go first and took HIS turn gazing at the line of his aunt’s brief panties showing through her skirt, and at the pale inviting skin of her lower thighs inside her skirt-split.

His heart was beating hard as they went past the women’s coats to the dresses and skirts. Again he was conscious of some folk looking their way as his aunt examined some of the dresses. But now, although still embarrassed, he began to share his aunt’s buzz at the reaction.

She picked up a black jersey dress and held it against herself.

“What do you think, Mark?”

“Yes, that would look nice… Pat.”

He checked himself just before calling milf porno her ‘auntie’.

“I don’t know… I like it but… do you think something a bit tighter…”

She lifted several others off the rail, examined them, and put them back.

“What about this one?”

She held up a floral print dress.

“That’s pretty, Pat… yes, I like that one…”

She laughed and tapped his arm.

“That’s because it has a long split up the side, I suppose!”

A thirty-something woman a couple of yards away looked across at them. He pretended not to notice and gulped, hoping to sound natural.

“Well, Pat, I must admit that IS why I like it!”

His aunt put it back, and checked a few others.

She lifted up a pink one and held it against her body. It was cut fairly low and only reached half way down her thighs.

“What do you think, Mark?”

“Yes, I really like that one.”

“Me too. But ideally I’d prefer it an inch shorter to show off a bit more leg…” she pondered.

The other woman shopper pretended, unsuccessfully, not to be looking or listening. He gulped again.

“I know what you mean, Pat. You HAVE got great, sexy legs, and it’s a shame not to show them. I suppose it depends whether you want to wear it with your stockings and suspenders — and whether you want to show or flash them, or whether you want to keep them secret — for just you and me to know about! It would be nice if the neckline was a bit lower, too to show… the tops of your sexy boobs.”

This public flirting with his mother’s sister, combined with the adverse attention, sent a tingle down his spine.

His aunt ran her eyes over the dress.

He looked at the mirror on one of the aisle columns and saw the look of disdain on the other woman’s face. She caught him looking at her, looked away, and moved away to another aisle. His aunt looked him in the face and laughed. He returned her affectionate grin and laughed as well.

In the end she settled on the pink dress, a short black skirt with a short but wide split in one side, and a red vest top, before heading for the lingerie.

They repeated a similar routine discussing the merits or otherwise of various bra and panty sets. Another woman in her forties, glared at them as she picked up a skimpy leopard-print set.

“What do you think, Mark. Too tarty?”

“Er… no, I don’t think so… Pat. Tarty, yes. But TOO tarty for you? No. I’d love to see you in it.”

He was getting bolder now as he made eye-contact with the other forty-something woman. She glared, shook her head and looked away.

They both laughed, she placed the underwear on top of the other clothes she had chosen, and they walked to the checkout.

As they had rehearsed, he paid, causing the embarrassed young female assistant to glance from his aunt to him, and back again. Taking a carrier bag each they left the shop and parted company for a while. He had to buy a few things as evidence of their shopping trip when they arrived back home.

They arranged to meet back near the toilets and he assured her that he would be there at least five minutes before her. He kept looking at his watch as he mooched round another department store, and, with little attention to his choices he bought a couple of tee shirts and a pair of jeans before heading for their rendezvous. He sat on a bench and tried not to look at his watch. His apprehension and excitement was rising.

The click of stilettos made him look round slowly. Sure enough, the provocative sound signalled his aunt’s arrival. She smiled as she approached him. A couple who looked to be in their seventies noticed her, too. Mark’s heart skipped a beat. Although expecting it, the sight still made his pulse race and his cock stir.

Her black skirt reached half-way down her bare, slender thighs, and her legs looked long and sexy in her black stilettos. The rhythmic clicking of her heels on the tiled floor of the shopping precinct turned heads, and the height of her heels caused her hips to sway provocatively. Under the red vest top she still wore no bra. Her small breasts quivered eye-catchingly as she walked, their shape and size very evident. As if this were not enough, her nipples — the nipples of his mother’s sister — poked against the cotton. She had also re-applied her make-up and had slightly — but deliberately — slightly overdone it.

As she walked, too, an alluring inverted V of thigh flesh was bared by the side split of her short skirt. Other people noticed her, too, a bloke in his thirties who received a gentle but angry nudge of the elbow from his female companion, and a couple of male students ogled her, too. To any observer she was dressed conspicuously, rather too flashily for her forty-some years. A less charitable onlooker would consider her appearance positively tarty, which of course was her intention.

She kissed and hugged him, pressing her firm breasts against him, unfettered by any bra. Two middle-aged women sitting on a bench raised their eyebrows and looked at each other knowingly.

Again she put his arm around his waist, nudging it just inside her top to rest on the soft skin of her back. She slid her long fingers inside the back pocket of his jeans, and stroked his bum through the thick fabric.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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