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Message-ID: <38717asstr$1034215803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Scipio <imperatorSPAMBLOCK@mindspring.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP Summer Camp, Ch 03 (mF, teen, oral, mast)
Date: Wed,  9 Oct 2002 22:10:03 -0400
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Title: Summer Camp - Book One: Susan
Chapter: 03
Author: Scipio (imperator@mindspring.com)
Codes: mF, teen, oral, mast
Revision: 1.2
Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/SummerCamp

*****************************************************************
                       STANDARD DISCLAIMER

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT 
entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL 
nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or 
language, please DO NOT read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to 
any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely 
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse 
any of the activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Scipio 
(imperator@mindspring.com). This story may be freely distributed 
with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright 2002 Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Summer Camp - Book One: Susan
by Scipio

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning, Mom once again made sure that I was awake in 
time to get to Aunt Susan's for breakfast. While Mom was in the 
bathroom, I quietly opened 'my' dresser drawer and extracted a 
pair of red shorts. I quickly rolled them up, said goodbye to Mom 
through the bathroom door, and bolted out the screen door, 
letting it slam shut behind me (Erin wasn't going to sleep in if 
I could help it!).

All the way down the hill and past the clubhouse, I carefully 
schooled my thoughts, focusing on mundane subjects. I didn't want 
a repeat of yesterday's near-continuous erection.

When I entered the courtyard, I could see through the windows in 
the kitchen door that the lights were on and Aunt Susan was 
already moving about the kitchen. I opened the screen door and 
knocked gently on the kitchen door. Aunt Susan turned from where 
she was standing at the stove and waved for me to come in. Much 
to my dismay, she was wearing a pair of bikini bottoms.

She turned with a smile of greeting, a spatula in one hand, and 
used it to point to the roll of red cloth in my hand.

"What's that?" she asked good-naturedly.

I let the shorts unroll from my hand and held them up to where 
she could see what they were. As soon as she recognized the 
shorts, she laughed -- her light-hearted laughter was at my 
expense, but it wasn't mean. She turned back to the stove quickly 
and scooped something out of a pan and set it on the plate next 
to her.

That done, she turned to face me, still grinning. She came around 
the kitchen table to where I was standing just inside the door. 
She put her hand out and took the shorts from my grasp and met my 
eyes.

"I think we'll be fine without these," she said mirthfully, 
pointing towards her bikini bottoms. "You don't have to spend the 
day working around my... nakedness," she said with a wink.

I blushed, but returned her grin. She set the shorts on the 
counter and returned to the stove. She picked up two plates, of 
French toast and sausage links, I saw, and set them on the table. 
She pointed to the drawer containing the silverware, which I 
retrieved while she poured glasses of milk.

We ate our breakfast and talked about what we needed to do that 
day. In the morning, we planned to transplant storm-damaged 
plants into new pots and move them to the courtyard, and then 
after lunch, we would tackle the fiberglass roofing over the back 
patio.

After we finished breakfast and cleaned the dishes, we headed out 
into the courtyard to begin transplanting.

-----

We spent most of the morning on our knees. When we weren't 
digging by the side of the courtyard or the house, we were in the 
courtyard itself, putting potting soil in pots and filling them 
with flowers and plants. It wasn't hard work, especially, but it 
certainly was dirty. By the time lunchtime rolled around, we were 
both covered in dirt and potting soil. But all the plants she 
wanted to move were moved, and Aunt Susan headed inside to fetch 
two towels.

When she returned, she hung the towels on the dowels on the wall 
of the house and bent to strip her bikini bottoms off. She 
stepped onto the terra-cotta tiles and turned on the water. As 
she stepped into the spray, she gasped as the cold water rushed 
over her. She quickly rinsed her front off, holding her feet 
under the water, and I prayed not to get an erection.

When Aunt Susan turned to face me, leaned her head back into the 
stream of cold water, and raised her arms to smooth her hair 
back, I lost it. The sights of her raised and water-slick 
breasts, her nipples fully erect from the cold, and her beautiful 
smooth vagina were more than enough to demolish any self-control 
I might have hoped to maintain. With a groan, I felt my penis 
jerk and stiffen, coming fully erect in a matter of moments.

She stepped out of the flow of water and ran her hands over her 
hair, wringing out the cold water, and opened her eyes to look at 
me. At my guilty, embarrassed expression, her eyes dropped to my 
jutting cock. She didn't say anything as she raised her eyes to 
hold my own and smiled sympathetically.

As she stepped to the side to retrieve her towel and I stepped 
into the water she'd left running, she turned and said, "I hope 
the cold water does you some good."

With a teasing chuckle, she began to dry off. The water was 
shockingly cold, but it felt good washing off the dust and grit 
of our morning's exertions. As I turned to rinse my back, I saw 
Aunt Susan bend over to dry her legs. I paused for a second to 
appreciate her upturned ass, and then let my eyes drift lower to 
where her shaved pussy lips protruded between the tops of her 
thighs. I could clearly see the shape of her labia, and thought I 
could see her inner lips peeking out. The cold water did little 
to discourage my erection, especially as I stared at Aunt Susan's 
round white ass and smooth pussy.

I realized with a start, however, that she was no longer drying 
her legs. With panic verging on terror, I realized she was 
looking back at me, still bent over. Our eyes met and I knew she 
must realize what I had been looking at only a moment before.

And then she winked at me!

I inhaled a mouthful of water and sputtered, trying to catch my 
breath. When I had finally stopped coughing, she was laughing and 
wrapping the towel around her head. She stood up, still laughing, 
and without a backward glance walked into the kitchen.

I stood stock still and tried to think of what to do. I was 
mortified at being caught looking at her pussy. I stood in the 
stream of cold water, oblivious to its chill, and wondered what I 
was going to say to her. And then it dawned on me that she had 
stood still, bent over, for several seconds after she had 
finished drying her legs. When she caught me looking at her, she 
was simply waiting, bent over, as if on display.

Realization came crashing over me. She had wanted me to look!

Despite the fact that I fervently wanted to jerk off right there 
in the cold water of the shower, I was too exposed. Aunt Susan 
could come to see what was keeping me at any time, and I wasn't 
ready for that kind of exhibition yet.

I shut off the cold water and quickly toweled off. As I dried my 
hair, my mind was still awhirl, trying to rationalize the past 
few minutes. I ran my fingers through my damp hair, hung the 
towel on a peg, and headed for the kitchen door.

When I stepped into the chill of the air conditioning, Aunt 
Susan, her hair wrapped in a white towel and still completely 
nude, was at the counter making sandwiches.

She turned at the sound of my entrance, "How do bologna and 
cheese sandwiches sound?"

"Uh... fine," I said in bewilderment. She was acting as if the 
whole episode from a few minutes ago hadn't happened. I quickly 
decided that if she wasn't going to say anything about me staring 
at her pussy, then I wasn't going to either. I was embarrassed 
enough as it was. But at the back of my mind, I couldn't help but 
wonder why she'd done it...

-----

After we finished lunch, we cleaned up the dishes and headed back 
out into the courtyard.

"Since the 'cat is out of the bag,' so to speak," she said, 
grinning at her own double entendre, "I'm just going to leave the 
bikini off."

I blushed, and my erection throbbed.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked mischievously, grinning at 
me.

I was at a loss for words, and she laughed again, enjoying the 
strangled expression on my face as she headed back outside.

Once outside, we went around the house to the back patio. There 
were two wood 4x4's holding up the frame of her patio roof. The 
other end of the frame was anchored to the roof of the house. It 
had, before the storm, been covered with green corrugated 
fiberglass panels. Almost half of them had been blown off and 
were strewn about the yard and the forest beyond.

We surveyed the scene and decided to go retrieve the missing 
panels before getting the ladder. It took us almost two hours to 
find the panels. Some of them were near the patio, but the 
majority of them had been blown further, caught like sails in the 
winds of the storm. In the end, we found all of them but one.

When we had them stacked against the house, we walked back to the 
garage (it was a detached building to the left of the walled 
courtyard) to retrieve the ladder. I carried the ladder around to 
the patio and extended it up into the patio roof rafters, now 
devoid of most of its top cover. As I set the ladder feet on the 
ground and leaned it against the wood of the rafter, Aunt Susan 
motioned me around to the back of the ladder.

"You hold the ladder while I go up and check things out," she 
directed.

I did as I was told. As she climbed the ladder to get her head 
above the level of the remaining panels, however, her slit was 
directly in front of me. I enjoyed a close-up view of her smooth 
pussy. As she swiveled her head above me, looking over the damage 
roof, I held the ladder in both hands and studied her smooth 
vagina from less than a foot away.

 From this close, I could clearly see that her outer lips were 
held slightly apart by her inner lips peeking out. Her lips were 
smooth and fair, and my erect cock bobbed at the proximity my 
eyes enjoyed to Aunt Susan's exotic womanhood. Mostly I simply 
stared, and lost track of time.

What seemed like forever, but was probably no more than a few 
seconds, passed before I felt the ladder shift. I look up in time 
to see her leaning out to the left, holding on to the ladder with 
only her right hand.

Aunt Susan looked down at me. "Grab the chair over there, Paul," 
she said, pointing with her extended toe, "and slide it over so I 
can put my foot on it."

I looked down and located the chair she had indicated, and 
stretched out with one hand to drag it closer.

"That's fine," she said when it was located to her satisfaction.

When she saw that I had both hands firmly back on the ladder, 
steadying it for her, she release her grip on the ladder with her 
left hand and stretched her left leg out. She looked down to 
position her left foot on the back of the chair and when she was 
satisfied that it wasn't going anywhere, she shifted her weight.

I looked up to see what she was looking at. She had her head 
above the level of the panels and had craned her neck to look 
beyond where an upraised panel had blocked her view of the 
remainder of the roof panels. When I looked back down, however, 
my eyes froze.

There, not more than a foot and a half away, her hairless pussy 
was spread wide before me. Her outer lips had parted, and I could 
see her inner lips quite clearly. I realized now that the skin of 
her labia wasn't white, it was actually a delicate pink, and the 
folds of her darker pink inner lips spread before me. I could 
clearly see the hood of her clit (although at the time, I didn't 
know what it was), and the darker entrance to her vagina. I 
remember thinking that her pussy looked like a beautiful flower 
spread before me.

I stood enraptured, held transfixed by the sight of her marvelous 
pussy. The only thing that saved me from being caught looking at 
her spread womanhood was the fact that she began to move before 
she looked back down. I tore my eyes from the incredibly arousing 
sight in front of me and looked up at her face. When she looked 
down to make sure she had her balance, and that her foot made it 
to the right rung on the ladder, her eyes met mine and she 
smiled.

My smile was genuine, knowing how narrowly I'd avoided detection. 
Her eyes slid away from mine and then she looked down. When her 
gaze returned to mine, she arched her eyebrow in silent question. 
I tried to keep the 'cat who ate the canary' look off my face, 
but from her knowing (and wry) expression, I don't think I was 
that successful.

She climbed down the ladder and we repositioned it. I moved the 
table and chairs so we could move the ladder over a bit (and so I 
wouldn't have to hang out and rely on the chair holding my 
weight), and we repositioned it against the adjacent beam facing 
the other direction. Aunt Susan moved to steady the ladder as I 
climbed up it.

I made sure to keep my hips back, so my recently rekindled 
erection didn't scrape against the ladder rungs. When my head 
cleared the top of the rafters, I looked down to make sure my 
dick wasn't aimed at a rung and flattened myself against the cool 
metal of the ladder.

I surveyed the storm damage. Many of the fiberglass panels we'd 
retrieved had simply been ripped off the nails, leaving jagged 
holes in them. The remaining panels were fairly battered as well, 
holding on to the roof with dogged tenacity, but still quite a 
bit worse for the wear.

I was about to push back from the ladder when I felt a cool 
breeze over my penis, ruffling my pubic hair. I froze... I hadn't 
felt the breeze anywhere else. At that moment, a horrible yet 
incredibly arousing thought occurred to me. If Aunt Susan's pussy 
was only a foot in front of me when she was on the ladder, my 
stiff penis, poking through the ladder rungs, must be mere inches 
in front of her. The thought aroused me tremendously at the same 
time that it embarrassed me. My buttocks involuntarily clenched 
and I could feel my penis bob in response.

I pushed back from the ladder and looked down into the laughing 
blue eyes of Aunt Susan. I was dumbfounded. I stared at her 
blankly, not knowing how to react. The 'cat who ate the canary' 
look that she gave ME, however, said it all.

I hurriedly climbed down the ladder, my penis bobbing with each 
step I took, until I was standing back on terra firma.

"What do you think?" she asked me.

What did I think about what? About the roof, or about her blowing 
air at my cock from only a few inches away? I decided to go with 
the more obvious of the two possible questions.

"I looks like we'll have to replace most of the panels," I said, 
feigning cluelessness about the air on my dick. She smiled at my 
obvious discomfort though, teasing me. I continued steadfastly, 
"I think we can re-nail the ones we have, but with the holes torn 
in them from being ripped out, I think they'll just leak."

She nodded her head, serious again, "That's what I thought too. I 
think we should just pull down the remaining panels and then 
leave things the way they are. Dwight and Karen will be here in a 
few weeks, and he usually brings his tool belt to help me fix 
things around the house."

Dwight Delozier was a carpenter, and usually did minor repairs 
around the camp when he and his family arrived. I pictured him in 
my mind, seeing him in his tool belt, safety glasses, and tennis 
shoes (it was indeed a funny outfit, but when he was working at 
the camp, they were the only things he wore). Dwight was a very 
large man, several inches over six feet, with powerful shoulders, 
the beginnings of a pot belly, and a VERY large dick. When he or 
his kids weren't around, the kids called him Dwight Donkey-dick. 
His wife Karen was a petite brunette, shorter than my mother and 
much slimmer, with small round breasts. They had a daughter 
Erin's age, and a son several years younger.

I was more than content to let Dwight put up the new panels over 
the patio. It would be hard enough work taking the remaining ones 
down. I nodded my agreement.

"I'll go get a mallet so you can take the remaining panels down," 
Aunt Susan said as I began shifting the ladder into a new 
position.

As it turned out, it was easier to remove the panels that I'd 
first thought. While Aunt Susan steadied the ladder for me, I 
simply climbed up, leaned out a little, and banged on the bottom 
of the panels. The overstressed panels popped off the nails and 
within an hour, we had the remaining fiberglass panels stacked 
neatly against the house.

While I had been on the ladder, however, Aunt Susan quietly 
tormented me. As I was concentrating on striking the panels 
squarely, my erection would flag. As my penis started to droop, 
I'd feel a puff of cool air on my dick and it would jerk back 
fully erect. The first time it happened, I was startled, and 
tried to ignore it. The next time it happened, I stuck my head 
out to the side and looked down at Aunt Susan. She stuck her head 
to the side to meet my gaze and returned it, a look of perfect 
innocence on her face. But her eyes were laughing, teasing me. 
For the next hour, every time I would begin to lose my erection, 
I'd feel a puff of cool air washing over my cock and balls. My 
cock would bob and jerk back to stiffness, and I'd continue to 
work, pretending not to notice.

When I climbed down for the last time, she looked at me, smiling 
teasingly, and helped me retract the ladder. We walked back to 
the garage in silence and I stored the ladder.

It was not quite five, and we decided to quit for the day. She 
fixed us both some lemonade and we relaxed for a few minutes in 
the wrought-iron chairs in the courtyard.

"If you'd like, you can use the hall bathroom to 'wash up' before 
you meet your Mom for dinner," she said innocently, teasing me 
with her eyes.

She and I both knew what I'd be doing in the hall bathroom, but 
her manner was lighthearted. I nodded in agreement, took a last 
swallow of my lemonade and made for the door into the house. Out 
of the corner of my eye, I watched her eyes follow my hard dick 
as it bobbed before me, leading the way.

Once in the bathroom, I grabbed a couple of Kleenex and wrapped 
my fingers around the length of my shaft. I thought of Aunt 
Susan's spread pussy as I stood underneath her and in no time, I 
felt the first spurts of white-hot sperm jet from the tip of my 
prick. I caught the thick, white semen in the tissue, leaning my 
head back and moaning at the feeling of release.

As the day before, my dick was still very hard once my orgasm had 
dwindled to a dribble of come. I cleaned myself and leaned back 
against the bathroom wall to catch my breath. I looked at myself 
in the mirror for the first time. My face was flushed with 
exertion, my breathing was heavy, and my jutting prick had oozed 
a pearl of come out the tip. I wiped away the droplet and 
released my manhood.

I waited about ten or fifteen minutes, and still my erection 
didn't subside, so I took another handful of tissues and began 
slowly stroking the thick base of my dick. This time, I actually 
enjoyed masturbating. It wasn't the lust-driven mad dash that I'd 
performed as soon as I'd gotten the door shut. I stroked and 
squeezed myself, leaning back against the wallpaper of the 
bathroom and closing my eyes, imagining Aunt Susan bent over in 
front of me.

Despite the fact that I'd only come a little while earlier, the 
images flashing through my imagination quickly had me on the path 
to another ejaculation. With a final jerk, I felt my legs and 
back tense up and semen began to gush from my dick. This orgasm 
was less powerfully intense than the first one, but no less 
pleasurable.

When I had cleaned myself up, I found that once again, I had to 
pee. When I'd finished urinating, I washed my hands in the sink 
and took a moment to study myself in the mirror. I was still the 
same pudgy 15-year-old I'd been yesterday morning, but the events 
of the past two days had opened my eyes in many ways. I paused 
for a moment to reflect on what I'd seen and done in the last 48 
hours, and I marveled at it all.

I shook off my reverie, however, and returned to the present. 
Once again, my poor cock was shiny and red, but at least it was 
flaccid. I opened the door to the bathroom, flicked off the 
light, and stepped into the hall.

No sooner had I stepped into the hall than I looked to my right 
as I heard movement. I saw Aunt Susan emerge from her bedroom, 
and in the dim light of the hallway, she looked a little 
flustered. She gestured for me to precede her back to the 
kitchen, which I did.

In the light of the kitchen, I turned to her to say goodbye for 
the day. I stopped when I saw her. She was breathing a little 
heavily, and her face and chest were flushed. Her hair was 
slightly disheveled, and as my eyes flicked over her body, I 
could see that her hairless pussy lips were puffy and slightly 
pink. Her slit was open slightly, and the folds of her inner lips 
were poking through a tiny bit.

When she saw my glance, she said, "Same time tomorrow?" as 
lightheartedly as she could.

I could only nod, holding her eyes with my own. She grinned at 
me, tilted her head to the side, and shrugged slightly. I brought 
my hand up and waved to her silently.

"I'll see you then. Good night," she said quietly.

I nodded silently, picked up my shorts, and turned for the door. 
I wanted to wash off in our cabin before dinner. And as the 
implications of what had just happened sunk in, I thought I may 
want to jerk off a third time in the shower.

-----

The next morning, I arrived just as Aunt Susan was starting to 
fix breakfast. I knocked on the kitchen door and she motioned me 
in. The very first thing I noticed was that she wasn't wearing 
her bikini bottoms.

"Ham and cheese omelettes okay with you?" she asked, looking at 
me over her shoulder.

I nodded vigorously, smiling. I dropped my eyes to her bare ass, 
then lifted them back to her face, raising my eyebrows in silent 
question.

She look down over her should at her bare cheeks, then back up at 
me and shrugged. "I didn't see the point," she said with feigned 
innocence and smiled. "Besides," she said, nodding to indicate my 
as-yet-flaccid penis, "I don't want to disappoint my loyal 
admirer."

Her eyes twinkled as she teased me, and I simply grinned and 
nodded at her. My, I thought to myself, what a long way we've 
come in only a few days!

She fixed one big omelette and cut it in half, adding toast to 
each plate and pouring glasses of orange juice. As we ate, we 
talked about what needed to be done that day.

Our last major task cleaning up the storm damage was to clear the 
roof and fix the gutters. Many small branches, as well as several 
larger ones, had fallen onto the roof. A couple of them had also 
hit, and damaged, the gutters in several places. Most of the 
branches that had damaged the gutters had fallen to the ground 
(and we'd picked them up the first day), but there were still a 
fair number of branches and other storm debris to clear from the 
roof itself.

We decided that it'd probably be best for me to get up on the 
ladder, clean and fix the guttering, and then get up onto the 
roof after lunch to throw down the branches. I decided to run 
back to the cabin to get my sneakers after breakfast, so I 
wouldn't hurt my feet on the rough shingles of the roof.

We finished breakfast, and as Aunt Susan began to clear the 
dishes, I dashed back to our cabin. I rummaged in my dresser 
drawer for a pair of socks, grabbed my shoes, and banged out the 
screen door, headed back to Aunt Susan's.

When I returned, I found her waiting for me at the wrought-iron 
table in the courtyard with the heavy work gloves, a hammer, and 
box of nails. I headed to the garage to withdraw the ladder, and 
we got to work.

We quickly established a routine that worked: we would set the 
ladder, she would steady it from underneath while I climbed up 
and cleared the gutters. When a piece of guttering needed repair, 
she would hand me the hammer and box of nails, and I would re-
secure the guttering to the edge of the roof. Our system worked 
well, and I was somewhat thankful that I was too busy to think 
about sex.

Unfortunately, that didn't last long. About half an hour after we 
started working, I felt a gentle breeze on my flaccid penis. I 
felt it twitch in response, but firmly held my imagination in 
check. I then felt the direction of the puff of air change, 
coming from underneath my penis, washing over my balls and the 
underside of my dick. I was bound and determined not to cave in 
to Aunt Susan's teasing, however, and tightly controlled my 
thoughts.

I felt a rush of triumph that I didn't rise to her baiting 
(pardon the bad pun). By the time lunch time rolled around, we 
had finished clearing the gutters and repairing the damaged 
sections, and my penis was still thankfully flaccid.

But in the process of clearing out the gutters, both she and I 
had gotten quite a bit of pine needle debris on us. Try as hard 
as I might, I still managed to drop a few clumps of pine needles 
down on her where she was steadying the ladder underneath me. 
There were bits and pieces of twigs and pine needles in her hair 
and on her shoulders. I'd also managed to get quite a bit on my 
arms and shoulders, and we decided to shower before fixing lunch.

When we reached the courtyard, she gestured for me to go first 
while she went into the house to fetch towels. I turned on the 
water, once again shocked by the coldness as I began rinsing 
gutter debris from my arms and shoulders. I had just leaned back 
and closed my eyes, savoring the stinging needles of cold water 
when I heard Aunt Susan come out of the house. (I know it's hard 
to believe, but work outside in a South Carolina summer some 
time, and see if you don't enjoy a good cold shower when you're 
done.)

I turned to see her hang two towels on the pegs on the wall. Then 
she stepped under the water with me and handed me a large-toothed 
comb she'd brought along. She was very close to me and I stepped 
back involuntarily. When I did, the spray hit her on the chest 
and I watched her nipples instantly stiffen. She sucked in her 
breath at the water temperature and let the water cascade over 
her face and down her chest.

She got her front entirely wet and then spun around to wash off 
her back and shoulders. Finally, she leaned her head back and wet 
her hair under the stream of cold water.

She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Would you run the comb 
through my hair to get the snippets out, please," she asked, and 
waited for my response.

When I nodded dumbly, she turned her head back to face away from 
me and stepped back into the water. I raised the comb and began 
gently drawing it through her hair. As I slowly dragged the teeth 
of the comb through her hair, she stepped back about six inches. 
She was already very close to me, and when she stepped back, it 
was enough to bring the smooth, warm flesh of her ass into 
contact with my penis.

The contact jolted me like an electric shock, and my prick 
stiffened instantaneously. My hard cock nestled between the 
cheeks of her ass, and I stepped back involuntarily, now pressed 
against the wall and the water handle. The movement only afforded 
me a little latitude, however, and the tip of my penis was still 
pressed against her flesh. I was rooted to the spot, and didn't 
know what to do. Finally, she stepped forward a little to get out 
of the spray and looked over her shoulder at me, grinning 
impishly. She then turned and held out her hand for the comb, 
which I eagerly handed over.

Aunt Susan then turned around again, with her back to me, and got 
her hair completely wet. Trapped as I was between her and the 
wall of the house, I could only watch as she took a small step 
forward and slung her hair over her head as she bent forward. A 
spray of water droplets flew from her hair, striking me in the 
chest and face as she flung her hair up and over.

She began running the comb through her hair to remove any 
remaining tidbits, and I swallowed hard. I looked down at the 
hourglass figure of her back and the flare of her hips as her 
alabaster ass poised a mere inch or two in front of my turgid 
penis. I dared not move, as I could feel the heat of her body 
warming the tip of my penis. As I looked down, my erection was 
pointed right at her pussy, basking in the warmth radiating from 
between her legs.

Although I couldn't see her face, I could tell that she knew 
exactly where she had pinned me, and exactly what my reaction 
would be. In a minute or so, she finished combing her hair and 
slowly stood up, swinging her damp tresses over her shoulder. She 
stepped forward so the spray was hitting her between her breasts 
and looked up at my face.

"All done?" she asked sweetly, acting completely oblivious to the 
situation a moment before and ignoring my raging hard on.

I gulped and nodded mutely.

She stepped forward and reached around behind me to turn off the 
shower. Once again, I could feel the warmth of her body as her 
breasts nearly touched my stomach. Her arm did touch me where she 
had reached behind me to turn the water off. The contact was 
electric as she held my eyes while she turned. When the water 
trickled to a stop, she smiled up at me innocently and withdrew 
her arm.

She stepped to the side and tossed me a towel, grabbing her own 
with her other hand. We toweled of in silence, my erection 
pulsing as she repeated yesterday's maneuver and bent forward to 
dry her hair. With more separation between us, I had an 
unobstructed view of her shaven pussy lips, and once again, I 
took the bait. I already had an erection, why not enjoy the 
view?!

She fixed hot dogs for lunch, and we ate in relative silence at 
the table in the courtyard.

My erection didn't disappointed me, or evidently her, the entire 
time. The cursed thing!

-----

After we finished lunch, I put my socks and shoes on, and we 
headed back out to the ladder.

It was a simple matter for me to climb onto the roof, and once 
there, I put my work gloves on and started on the smaller 
branches. I would toss the branches down, being careful to make 
sure I missed Aunt Susan, and she would collect them and take 
them around back to our burn pile.

After only about an hour's work, I had all but the three largest 
branches cleared. Two of them were about the size of my forearm 
at the base, but one monster was about five inches in diameter, 
with smaller branches coming off it at all angles. As a matter of 
fact, I'm surprised that the big one didn't do any permanent 
damage when it hit.

I decided to drag the largest over to the edge of the house by 
the ladder and throw it down first. Then I could bring over the 
two smaller ones and toss them down with the larger one. I made 
sure Aunt Susan was out of the way as I heaved the largest branch 
off the roof. I could barely lift the beast it was so awkward, 
and I finally managed to get enough of it off the roof that it 
simply levered itself off. The two smaller branches were easier, 
but still no picnic.

Once I'd thrown the last of the smaller large branches off the 
roof, I started down the ladder. Working up on the roof, I'd been 
paying attention to what I was doing, and not being distracted by 
Aunt Susan's body (or teasing!), my erection had completely 
disappeared. It was still early in the afternoon when I started 
down the ladder, and I reluctantly thought that my time with Aunt 
Susan was coming to an end. I had really enjoyed my time with 
her, despite my embarrassment at having a near-constant erection.

So it was these thoughts that occupied my mind as I reached the 
bottom of the ladder and turned to step down. While I had been 
dragging the second smaller branch, Aunt Susan had dragged the 
first one around to our burn pile. As I was coming down the 
ladder, I absentmindedly noticed her coming back for the second 
of the smaller branches.

As I reached the bottom of the ladder and turned, time slowed to 
a crawl as I watched a horrible series of events unfold. Thinking 
about it later, I managed to reconstruct what happened, but at 
the time, it actually happened so quickly that there was simply 
nothing I could do to stop things.

Aunt Susan had bent over to grasp the thick branch by its middle, 
to lift/drag it behind the house. Right as I was stepping off the 
ladder, she was standing and lifting the thick branch. I watched 
in horror as the stout base of the branch inexorably rose to meet 
my descending groin.

With a white-hot explosion of agony, the branch connected with my 
balls. I don't even think I had enough strength in me to even 
groan. As waves of pain and nausea washed over me, I collapsed 
silently, holding my gloved hands to my aching testicles and 
curling up in the fetal position.

An indeterminate amount of time passed, and when the pain 
subsided enough for me to open my eyes, I saw Aunt Susan kneeling 
very anxiously by my head. She obviously didn't know what to do, 
and in my agony, I was in no condition to tell her. Ice picks of 
pain stabbed my belly as my abused testicles seemed to pulse and 
emit the torturous jolts.

My hearing returned, finally, and I realized that Aunt Susan was 
apologizing frantically, wondering what to do and not daring to 
do anything. I blinked up at her, my face obviously a rictus of 
pain.

"Ow," I said with pathetic humor when I finally regained enough 
presence of mind to actually speak.

"Oh my God, Paul, are you okay?" she asked nervously.

I nodded wordlessly. The waves of pain and nausea had passed, and 
I could actually think clearly. My testicles still throbbed with 
a dull ache, but at least coherent thought had returned.

"I think I'll live," I croaked.

"Can you stand?"

I nodded again, a little jerkily this time, hoping that my 
rubbery legs would support me. Aunt Susan helped me to my feet, 
and I stood hunched over, my gloved hands still protecting my 
groin. She dusted the sand off my left side where I'd lain on the 
ground in agony and we slowly, torturously made our way towards 
the courtyard.

Once we got to there, we entered the kitchen and Aunt Susan 
leaned me in the corner near the sink. She shucked her gloves and 
reached for a clean dish towel. I watched curiously as she laid 
it flat on the counter and stepped to the refrigerator. She 
briskly opened the freezer door and took a bag of something out 
of it. I saw that she'd grabbed a bag of frozen peas as she set 
it in the middle of the dish towel and carefully folded the sides 
of towel over the bag. She folded the ends of the towel over the 
sides, forming a bulging package, which she clutched with her 
right hand, and then returned to stand in front of me.

Matter of factly, she knelt in front of me and used her left hand 
to prize away my gloved hands from where they were still cupping 
my abused testicles. She put her right hand between my knees and 
had me spread my legs slightly. A fresh wave of pain and nausea 
flooded my senses as my balls suffered the movement. I put my 
hands to my sides and supported myself against the counter, 
leaning my head back and squeezing my eyes shut to combat the 
waves of nausea emanating from my groin.

I vaguely felt Aunt Susan lift my penis and place the soft, and 
very cold, towel-wrapped bag of peas against my scrotum. My 
testicles immediately tried to retreat further into my abdomen as 
the cold permeated the entire region. Once I'd gotten over the 
shock of the movement, and then the cold, I slowly realized that 
the bag of frozen peas was making my battered testicles feel 
better.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the pain and nausea retreated and, to my 
surprise, the shooting pains in my balls eased to a dull ache. 
When I finally decided to open my eyes, I bent my head forward 
and took a deep shuddering breath. I then lowered my head to look 
down at Aunt Susan. She had a concerned look on her face as she 
started intently at the towel-wrapped bag of peas. She was making 
a concerted effort to hold it against my scrotum with a minimum 
of pressure while still making contact.

As I looked down at her, kneeling in front of me, she sensed me 
looking and raised her eyes to meet mine. There was a world of 
apology and sympathy in her expression, and I smiled at her by 
way of forgiveness. She understood my unspoken message and in 
gratitude she returned my smile.

Sensing that the worst had passed, she gently removed the cold 
towel from my groin. She lowered her eyes to scrutinize my balls.

"Your scrotum is red, and slightly swollen, but I don't think 
anything is permanently damaged. Do you feel anything worse than 
a dull ache? Any shooting pains?" she asked, looking up at me 
once again.

I shook my head numbly and she returned her gaze to my crotch. 
She studied my equipment for a minute or so, looking from 
different angles, before looking back up at me.

"I am so sorry, Paul. I didn't see you coming down the ladder," 
she apologized.

"I know," I croaked through my dry throat. "It was an accident."

"I have been so awful to you today," she castigated herself. 
"Teasing you, and then... this...," she trailed off.

I could see how sorry she was, her apology was graven on her 
face, but as I stared down at her, I couldn't help but think 
about our situation. Aunt Susan had been holding my limp penis 
out of the way with her left hand, and as she knelt in front of 
my, the contact of her hand on my manhood sent a surge of 
excitement through me.

My balls still ached dully, but the excitement of the situation 
overrode the pain, and I felt my cock twitch with the first rush 
of blood. Because I was still in a modicum of pain, however, my 
erection was slow to develop. Aunt Susan had begun to offer 
another series of apologies when she felt my penis twitch and 
swell in her left hand.

Suddenly, her expression changed. Without a word, she set the 
towel-wrapped bag of peas on the floor between my feet. She then 
lowered my penis from where she'd been holding it up against my 
abdomen.

I was horrified that she had been disgusted by my reaction and 
that she was mad at me. Panic filled my mind as I wondered what 
she would do, if she would yell at me, or kick me out of the 
kitchen, or worse. So it was with panic-induced shock that I 
watched her slowly look up at me, her expression unreadable.

With a mischievous smile, she opened her mouth and engulfed the 
stiffening head of my young penis. The pain in my balls was 
quickly forgotten as the warmth and pleasure of that first 
contact washed over me.

I looked down in awe as she closed her eyes and gently sucked on 
the crown of my semi-hard dick. She gently put her right palm on 
the front of my left thigh and opened her mouth to accept more of 
my rapidly stiffening penis. I felt the warmth and wetness of her 
tongue on the bottom of my cock as she closed her mouth and 
sucked. She slowly withdrew her lips, tugging at the skin of my 
dick, and I quickly reached a full erection.

She kept the head of my penis in her mouth and I could feel the 
breath from her nose on the saliva-slick top of my cock. And then 
a sensation of unadulterated ecstasy washed over me as she 
swirled her tongue around the sensitive glans of my penis. I 
gripped the edge of the counter firmly with my still-gloved 
hands, watching in amazement as she opened her mouth once more 
and slowly impaled herself on my length.

She was about two inches from the base of my penis when she 
clamped her lips shut and I could see her nostrils flare as she 
inhaled. She caressed the underside of my penis with her tongue, 
and I closed my eyes, savoring the pleasure and warmth. She very 
gently withdrew my cock from her mouth and sucked on the head 
before releasing me from her mouth entirely.

"Do you forgive me?" she asked, looking up at me.

I opened my eyes and gazed into hers. She had an unreadable 
expression on her face -- it wasn't her look of mirthful teasing 
from earlier, nor was it the face of lust I'd seen my mother make 
as she fellated my father. She appeared genuinely contrite, but 
that emotion was underscored by something I've since determined 
was a desire to please me.

I swallowed hard and simply nodded at her, and she smiled.

She then closed her eyes again and began planting open-mouthed 
kisses down the side of my shaft. She was careful not to touch my 
still-tender balls, but the feeling of my penis rubbing along the 
soft, smooth skin of her face drowned out any concern I might've 
had for my testicles.

Her left hand still grasped my penis lightly and she withdrew her 
lips, pulling my penis to her left to kiss the other side of the 
base of my dick. She drew her open-mouthed kisses towards the 
head of my shaft and I once again luxuriated in the feeling of my 
sensitive cock head being brushed by the soft skin of her cheek.

When she reached the tip, her left hand held my penis aimed at 
her mouth. She parted her lips and extended her tongue, flicking 
the hole at the end of my cock. My hips bucked involuntarily at 
the rush of pleasure she caused, and she smiled at my reaction, 
engulfing my the crown of my manhood with her lips once more.

She concentrated on the head of my penis, her eyes still closed, 
and it wasn't long before I felt the pressure of my impending 
ejaculation. I panicked about where I was going to shoot my load.

"Oh, God...," I groaned. "Oh... I'm... oh... uh..." I was incoherent, 
delirious with pleasure.

She sensed my need, however, and with her left hand, she began to 
gently stroke my penis. She clamped her lips tight over the first 
couple of inches of my cock and began to flick her tongue against 
the sensitive underside of the head of my penis. Her left hand 
increased its pressure and tempo, rubbing the skin of my shaft 
over the nerves and erectile tissue underneath.

With a groan, I squeezed my eyes tight and emptied my seed into 
her mouth. I felt her start at the power of my first spurt, but 
she kept up the stroking motion with her left hand at the same 
time that she ceased flicking her tongue. The next spurt of semen 
coursed up my shaft and erupted into her mouth, and she kept 
pumping me gently, milking my cock with her hand and lips. I felt 
my cock spurt several more times, each time depositing more of my 
sperm in her willing mouth.

When I had finished ejaculating, she wrapped her fingers around 
the base of my penis and milked me one final time. She kept her 
lips wrapped around my cock and I could feel her swallow the load 
I'd just shot into her mouth. It took her two swallows to get it 
all.

She finished swallowing my sperm and took a deep, shuddering 
breath through her nose. I felt her exhale on the top of my penis 
as she released the grip her left hand had on me. She breathed 
deeply, but never released the head of my cock from the warm 
cavern of her mouth. And as she suckled the end of my penis, it 
didn't shrink much. She placed the warm palm of her left hand 
against my right thigh and again sighed deeply.

She knelt that way for several minutes; sitting on her heels, her 
palms gently rubbing my thighs, her warm, wet mouth rhythmically 
sucking the head of my cock.

Finally, she released my penis and smiled up at me.

"Better?" she asked quietly.

I could only nod my head vigorously. She looked like an angel, 
kneeling in front of me, my mostly erect cock a divining rod 
pointing towards the warm wetness of her mouth. She smiled and 
kissed the underside of the crown of my penis and closed her eyes 
again, breathing a deep sigh. Then she shuddered, her body 
quivering all over as she continued to kiss my glans. With a 
shake of her head, as if pulling herself out of a daydream, she 
opened her eyes again and I looked down into their liquid blue 
depths.

Slowly, she got to her feet. She reached out and took the gloves 
off my hands one at a time. Aunt Susan took my hand, turned, and 
led me into the living room. Bending over, she turned on the lamp 
on the end table next to the couch and silently indicated that I 
should sit. I obliged her. I looked up at her magnificent body in 
the light of the lamp and wondered what she was going to do.

I didn't have long to wonder, however, as she lay down on the 
couch to my right. She scooted forward and put her left arm over 
my hips. I slouched down on the couch to give her better access 
and she rolled to put her back to the back of the couch. Her left 
breast was pressed firmly against my right thigh as she adjusted 
herself into a comfortable position.

I didn't know where to put my hands, and I didn't want to touch 
her somewhere where she didn't want to be touched. I was still 
young enough, and naive enough, to think that I might still screw 
things up at that point, so I left well enough alone (so to 
speak). With her right hand, she reached up. Then she turned her 
head, and looked for my own right hand. Once I realized what she 
was after, I put my hand in hers and she placed it on her right 
breast.

Her breast was softer than I'd ever imagined possible. It was so 
pliable in my hand as I gently cupped it. I didn't know what to 
do, and I didn't want to hurt her, so I simply kneaded it gently. 
With her free left hand, Aunt Susan grasped my still-erect prick 
and aimed it at her mouth. Once she had my dick firmly seated 
between her lips, she cocked her right leg up, bent at the knee, 
and reached her right hand down to her pussy.

I was awestruck at the sight. So much so, in fact, that I forgot 
all about the wonderful sensations she was causing in my dick. I 
watched as she ran her middle finger up and down the length of 
her slit. I could see the glistening sheen of moisture on her 
labia when she slipped her finger into her sex. She pumped her 
finger a couple of times, in and out, in and out, then withdrew 
it and pressed down at the top of her slit.

She began moving her right hand in small circles, pressing down 
at the top of her pussy. She would alternate that motion with 
running her middle finger down over her slit and then plunging it 
into her vagina. I watched in wonder as she pleasured herself as 
she sucked on my stiff manhood.

Taking my cue from the motions of her right hand, I began moving 
my hand, the one cupping her breast, in small circles. I felt her 
nipple become stiff under the palm of my hand and knew I must've 
done something right. Because her hair had fallen over her face, 
and because of the position of her head over my cock, I couldn't 
see what she was doing. So I alternated between watching her rub 
her pussy and simply enjoying the pleasure my penis was 
experiencing.

She took her time sucking my cock this time. She was always 
careful never to touch my still-tender balls, alternating between 
taking me very deep and licking the length of my shaft. Although 
I couldn't see it, by the feelings in my groin I was certain that 
she was attempting to swallow my entire penis, right down to my 
pubic hair.

She would impale her mouth on my cock, lock her lips around the 
base, open her mouth a little and try to thrust more of my cock 
in her mouth. Then she would work her tongue against the 
underside of my penis and slowly withdraw, letting her lips drag 
along the length of my shaft.

Not knowing what else I should be doing, I simply leaned my head 
back on the back of the couch and enjoyed the blowjob. She took 
things slowly, and because I had already come earlier, I took 
longer this time. When I masturbated, I knew exactly what to do 
to bring myself off quickly, increasing pressure here, stroking 
faster there. This was completely different. I didn't know what 
to expect from one moment to the next, and the anticipation was 
almost as exquisite as the actual sensations.

In time, however, I felt her stiffen up. Her hand began to narrow 
its circles and move very, very fast. She wrapped her lips around 
my dick and simply held me in her mouth. I wondered what was 
happening, if she were okay or not. She began thrusting her hips 
at her racing fingers, and moaning deep in her throat. Her 
moaning vibrated my dick and sent buzzes of pleasure through my 
entire groin.

Suddenly, she thrust her middle finger back into the depths of 
her smooth-shaven pussy and started pumping it in and out. 
Finally, she got very, very still. Her moan started deep, but 
quickly rose in pitch, a sustained sound coming from deep in her 
throat. After 15 or 20 seconds, she let an explosive breath of 
air out around my trapped penis, and withdrew her mouth from 
around my manhood.

I didn't know what to do, or not do, so I simply stayed right 
where I was, neither moving nor talking. She shuddered and 
straightened her legs, trapping her right hand at the junction of 
her thighs, her finger still stuck into her pussy. When her 
quivering finally diminished, she grasped my penis with her left 
hand and aimed it at her waiting mouth.

She began sucking my cock with enthusiasm, pumping the shaft with 
her left hand while she bobbed her head up and down on my length. 
In short order, I was shooting jets of hot semen into her mouth. 
With her lips wrapped around the ridge of my glans, she swallowed 
and kept pumping. When she had milked the last of my come from my 
cock, she opened her lips and released my shrinking member.

She then collapsed against me, laying her head on my stomach and 
resting her right arm along her length, between her right hip and 
the back of the couch. She breathed deeply and licked her lips, 
her eyes closed, a smile on her face.

We sat like that for some time, neither of us moving. When I 
finally began thinking coherently again, I almost panicked. What 
would happen now? Would she not want to see me again? Today was 
the last day I was supposed to work for her, what next? Will she 
not want to 'do stuff' with me again because I wasn't any good?

A thousand and one thoughts swirled through my mind, few of them 
well-formed or well-though-out. So I sat there, and dared not 
move.

When her breathing had returned to normal, she opened her eyelids 
and looked up at me, eyes bright with her pleasure.

"I'm sorry I hit you with the branch," she said simply.

I looked at her, dumbfounded.

She stared up at the incomprehension on my face for perhaps five 
seconds and then burst out laughing. Her laughter was gentle and 
guileless, and enfolded us both with its good humor. Slowly, 
languidly, she pull her left arm underneath her and lay her head 
on my right thigh. She pulled her legs up and got very quiet. I 
could tell that she was thinking, about what I didn't know, and I 
sat quietly. But under the surface calm, my mind was still 
racing, playing out 'what if' scenarios endlessly. I'd finally 
decided it was fruitless when the clock on the living room wall 
chimed five o'clock.

Aunt Susan raised her head and tilted it to look at the clock, 
then sighed. She pushed herself up with her arm and levered her 
legs over the edge of the couch, standing up gracefully.

As I looked up at her, I let my eyes roam over her body, looking 
at her openly for the first time. She let me look, standing 
quietly with her arms at her sides. As my eyes dropped to look at 
her vagina, I could see that her lips were pink and swollen, and 
her inner labia were peeking out.

Then a thought occurred to me... Her pussy had looked just like 
that when she had emerged from her bedroom the day before, as I 
came out of the hall bathroom. She had been masturbating in her 
bedroom! The idea crashed over me like a wave, and I was stunned.

But I had little time to contemplate my revelation, as she 
extended her hand down to help me up from the couch. When I took 
her hand and stood up, she silently led me to the hall bathroom. 
There was no way I needed to jerk off, my penis was very soft at 
the moment, worn out by the two suckings I'd just received. When 
we entered the bathroom, she gestured for me to take off my shoes 
and socks as she started the water in the shower.

She leaned in to test the temperature, then diverted the water to 
the shower nozzle. As she stepped into the shower, she extended 
her hand to me, inviting me to join her.

In the shower, she washed herself first. I enjoyed seeing the 
soap suds sheen her round breasts and flat stomach as she washed 
herself with a washcloth. Then she squirted some shampoo in her 
hand and lathered her hair. Finally, she turned and rinsed, first 
her hair, then her body.

Lathering the wash cloth once more, she squeezed past me and 
gently pushed me back into the warm spray. As she passed me, I 
felt her stiff nipples drag across my stomach, and if I hadn't 
come so recently, my penis would surely have stiffened instantly.

Once under the shower head, however, I let the warm water run 
over me and leaned my head back to wet my hair. Aunt Susan 
reached up and washed my body, exploring with her hands and with 
the sudsy washcloth. When she had washed my chest, shoulders, and 
arms, she spun me around to wash my back. When that was 
completed, she turned me around again to rinse my back.

She lathered the washcloth once more and dropped to her knees. 
She raised it to my groin and gently, loving washed my penis and 
scrotum. She worked up a good lather, but was very gentle with my 
abused testicles. She washed my legs next, and then put her hand 
on my hip to turn me so she could was my buttocks and lower back. 
When I had rinsed my pubic area, I turned around of my own accord 
to rinse my back and buttocks.

Aunt Susan rinsed out the washcloth and handed it up to me to 
hang on the bar on the far wall of the shower. I leaned forward 
and stretched to hang the cloth and I felt her lips capture my 
soft penis. When I had the cloth hung, I leaned back and looked 
down at her. Her hair was slicked back and her eyes were closed 
as she gently sucked on my cock. She worked her lower jaw side to 
side and lavished attention on the underside of my still-flaccid 
cock. Pursing her lips, she slowly drew her head back, letting my 
manhood slip from her mouth. She smiled and opened her eyes, 
looking up at me.

"Tasty," she said mischievously and stood up.

She reached around behind me and shut the water off, then opened 
the shower curtain. She leaned out and pulled two towels from the 
bar, handing one to me. We dried off in relative silence. We hung 
our towels up to dry and I grabbed up my shoes and socks as we 
headed back out to the living room.

The clock in the living room said it was almost half past five 
and I knew I had to go, to meet my Mom and Erin for dinner. I 
shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what to say. 'Thanks?' 
'See ya later?' 'Here's lookin' at you, kid?' Once again, I was 
at a loss for words.

Aunt Susan noticed my nervousness and once again rescued me from 
myself.

"Go on. Go meet your Mom."

I grinned like an idiot and almost ran towards the kitchen. At 
the door to the kitchen, however, I stopped. I don't know why I 
did, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I turned to see her 
standing in the door to the living room, her wet hair hanging 
over her shoulders and framing her face, and I waved goodbye to 
her, smiling.

She smiled in return and waved. Then she made a shooing gesture 
with her hand and I bolted out the back door, letting the screen 
door slam behind me.

-----

Copyright 2002 Scipio. All rights reserved.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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