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Message-ID: <39872asstr$1039972204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Nick Scipio <imperatorSPAM@BLOCKmindspring.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Summer Camp - Chapter 03 (mF, teen, oral, mast)
Date: Sun, 15 Dec 2002 12:10:04 -0500
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Summer Camp - Book 1: Susan
Part: Chapter 03
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Coming-of-age story about a teenager whose family spends 
their summer vacations at a nudist camp.
Keywords: mF, teen, oral, mast
Revision: 1.3
Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/SummerCamp1
Mailing List: Scipio_Stories-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
FAQ: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/www/faq.htm

*****************************************************************
                       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, Nick Scipio 
(imperatorSPAM@BLOCKmindspring.com). This story may be freely 
distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2002 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

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

Summer Camp - Book 1: Susan
by Nick 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 saw through the kitchen door 
window that the lights were on and Aunt Susan was already moving 
about. I opened the screen door and knocked gently on the glass. 
Aunt Susan turned from the stove and waved for me to enter. Much 
to my dismay, she was wearing a pair of bikini bottoms.

She greeted me with a smile, and used the spatula she held in one 
hand to point to the roll of red cloth I clutched.

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

I let the shorts unroll from my hand and held them up for her to 
see. 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, scooped something out of the 
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, took the shorts from my grasp, and met my 
eyes.

"I think we'll be fine without these," she said lightly, 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 then picked up two plates 
of French toast and sausage links, and set them on the table. She 
pointed to the drawer containing the silverware, which I opened 
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. After lunch, 
we would tackle the fiberglass roofing over the back patio.

After we finished breakfast and cleaned the dishes, we headed out 
to 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 especially hard work, but it 
certainly was dirty. By the time lunchtime rolled around, we were 
both covered in dirt. 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 set into the 
wall of the house and bent to strip off her bikini bottoms. She 
stepped onto the terra-cotta tiles and turned on the water. She 
stepped into the spray and gasped as the cold water rushed over 
her. While she rinsed off her front, holding her feet under the 
water, I prayed not to get an erection.

When Aunt Susan turned to face me, tilted 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 smooth 
pussy 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, becoming 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 
stiff cock. She didn't say anything as she raised her eyes to my 
own and then smiled sympathetically.

When 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 dirt and grime 
of our morning's exertions. As I turned to rinse my back, I 
watched 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 have realized 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 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, as if on display.

The realization came crashing over me. She 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. At any time, 
Aunt Susan could come to see what was keeping me, 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, 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 before simply hadn't happened. I 
quickly decided that if she weren'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 the dishes and headed back 
out to 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, obviously 
enjoying my strangled expression as she headed back outside.

Once there, 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. 
Before the storm, it had 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 them all. 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 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 it around to the 
patio and extended it up into the patio roof rafters, now devoid 
of most of the top cover. As I set the ladder's 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, 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 damaged roof, I 
held the ladder in both hands and studied her hairless lips from 
less than a foot away.

 From that close, I could clearly see that her outer lips were 
held slightly apart by the inner lips, which were peeking out. 
They were smooth and fair, and my erect cock bobbed due to the 
proximity of Aunt Susan's exotic womanhood. I stared at the 
breathtaking view and completely lost track of time.

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

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

I located the chair she had indicated, and stretched out 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 released her grip 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. Her head was above 
the level of the roof and she 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 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. Her 
pussy looked exactly like a flower, spread open before me.

I stood enraptured, captivated 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 to make sure 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 that 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 so I could 
take a look at the room. I moved the table and chairs so we could 
move the ladder over a bit so we could reposition it against the 
adjacent beam, facing the other direction. Aunt Susan moved to 
steady the ladder as I climbed 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 then 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. 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. Aunt Susan's pussy 
had been 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, straight into the 
laughing blue eyes of Aunt Susan. I was dumbfounded. I stared at 
her blankly, not knowing how to react. The "cat that ate the 
canary" look that she gave _me_, however, said it all.

I hurriedly climbed down the ladder, my erection 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, teasing me. I continued steadfastly, "I'm 
pretty sure we can re-nail the ones we have, but with the holes 
torn in them when they were ripped out, I think they'll just 
leak."

She nodded, 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 soon, 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 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 potbelly, 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 would be 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 remove the remaining panels," 
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 fiberglass popped off the nails 
easily, and within an hour, we had the remaining panels stacked 
neatly against the house.

While I had been on the ladder, however, Aunt Susan had quietly 
tormented me. As I concentrated on striking the panels squarely, 
my erection flagged. Whenever my penis started to droop, I'd feel 
a puff of cool air on my dick, and it would quickly become 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 met my gaze and returned 
it, a look of perfect innocence on her face. Her eyes, however, 
were laughing, teasing me. For the next hour, every time I began 
to lose my erection, I felt a puff of cool air wash over my cock 
and balls. My penis 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 with the day before, my dick was still very hard once my 
ejaculation dwindled to a dribble. 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 from 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. The second 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 and 
closing my eyes, imagining Aunt Susan bent over in front of me.

Despite the fact that I'd come only a short time earlier, the 
images flashing through my imagination quickly had me on the path 
to another climax. With a final jerk, I felt my legs and back 
tense up and semen began to gush from my dick. My 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 finished urinating, I washed my hands 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, flicked off the light, and stepped 
into the hall.

No sooner had I stepped out than I looked to my right as I heard 
a 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 shower before dinner, and as the implications of what 
had just happened sunk in, I thought I might want to jerk off a 
third time.

-----

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 a 
silent question.

She looked down over her shoulder 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 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 damaged the gutters in 
several places. Most of the ones 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 our 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. She was sitting 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: we would set the ladder, she 
would steady it from underneath, and I would climb up and clear 
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 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 air change. It came 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. By 
the time lunchtime 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 while she was steadying the ladder beneath 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 she fixed 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, and was once again shocked by the coldness when 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 set into the 
wall. Then she stepped under the water with me and handed me a 
large-toothed comb that she'd brought along. She was very close 
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, but 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 tilted her head back and wet 
her hair in 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 towards me, into the water. I raised the comb 
and began gently drawing it through her hair. As I slowly dragged 
it 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 instantantly. My hard cock nestled between the cheeks 
of her ass, and I stepped back involuntarily. I found myself 
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 wet again. Trapped as I was between her and the wall of 
the house, I could only watch when she took a small step forward 
and slung her hair over her head as she bent forward. A spray of 
water droplets struck 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, since I could feel the heat of her body 
warming the tip of my penis. When 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, swung her damp tresses over her shoulder, and 
turned. 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, and she held my eyes while she turned the handle. 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 dried off in silence, my erection pulsing 
as she repeated yesterday's maneuver, bending forward to dry her 
hair. With more separation between us, I had an unobstructed view 
of her shaved pussy lips, and once again, I took the bait. I 
already had an erection, why not enjoy the view?

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

My erection didn't disappoint me, or evidently her, the entire 
time. Treacherous organ!

-----

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 on my work gloves and started gathering 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 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 six inches in diameter, 
with smaller branches coming off it at all angles. I was 
surprised that the big branch 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 because it was so 
awkward, but I finally managed to get enough of it over the edge 
of 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. As I'd worked on the roof, I'd 
been paying attention to what I was doing, and wasn't 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 those 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.

When 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 occurred, 
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 drag it to our pile. Just 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 so much 
as groan. As waves of pain and nausea washed over me, I collapsed 
silently. I held my gloved hands to my aching testicles and 
curled into 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. She was asking me what to do, and didn't 
dare do anything until I spoke. I blinked up at her, my mouth 
open in 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?"

I nodded wordlessly. The waves of pain and nausea had passed, and 
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, and hoped that my rubbery legs 
would support me. She 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, from 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 dishtowel. 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. I saw 
that she'd grabbed a bag of frozen peas, and watched curiously as 
she set it in the middle of the dishtowel 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 pry away my gloved hands, which where 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 
the side and supported myself against the counter, tilting my 
head back and squeezing my eyes shut to combat the waves of 
nausea caused by the pain in my groin.

I vaguely felt Aunt Susan lift my penis and place the soft, 
towel-wrapped, and very cold 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 make-shift icepack was soothing my battered testicles.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the waves 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 lifted my head and took 
a deep, shuddering breath. I then looked 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 where she knelt 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..."

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 
me, the contact of her hand on my manhood sent a surge of 
excitement through my body.

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, my erection 
was slow to develop. Aunt Susan had begun to offer another series 
of apologies when she felt my penis twitch, and then swell.

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 against my 
abdomen.

I was horrified that she had been disgusted by my reaction and 
that she was mad at me. Panic filled my thoughts 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 shaft 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 in her mouth and I felt the breath from her 
nose on the saliva-slick top of my cock. And then a sensation of 
pure ecstasy washed over me as she swirled her tongue around the 
sensitive glans. 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 her nostrils flared 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 entirely.

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

I opened my eyes and gazed into hers. She wore an unreadable 
expression--it wasn't the teasing look from earlier, nor was it 
the face of lust I'd seen my mom make as she sucked my dad. Aunt 
Susan appeared genuinely contrite, but that emotion was 
underscored by something else. I slowly realized that it was a 
desire to please me.

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

She then closed her eyes 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 it to her left to kiss the other side of the base. 
She drew her open-mouthed kisses towards the head of my shaft and 
I once again luxuriated in the feeling of my sensitive glans 
being brushed by the soft skin of her cheek.

When she reached the tip, her left hand held my erection and 
aimed it 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, and she smiled at my 
reaction, engulfing the crown of my manhood with her lips once 
again.

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 
orgasm. I panicked about where I was going to shoot my come.

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

She sensed my need, however, and she began to gently stroke my 
penis with her left hand. She clamped her mouth tightly around 
the first couple of inches of my cock and began to flick her 
tongue against the sensitive underside of the head. 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 shut 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, she ceased flicking her tongue. The next spurt of semen 
surged up my shaft and erupted into her mouth. She kept pumping 
me gently, milking my cock with her hand and lips. My cock 
spurted several more times, each time depositing more of my sperm 
in her willing mouth.

When I 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.

When she finished swallowing, she took a deep, shuddering breath 
through her nose. I felt her exhale on the top of my penis as she 
released her grip. She breathed deeply, but never released the 
head 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 glans and closed her eyes again, 
breathing a deep sigh. Then she shuddered, her body quivering all 
over as she continued to kiss my swollen member. With a shake of 
her head, as if pulling herself out of a daydream, she opened her 
eyes 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. She 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 quickly obliged her. As I looked up at her magnificent 
body in the light of the lamp, I 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 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. With her 
right hand, she reached up. Then she turned her head and looked 
for my 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 as I gently cupped it, and I didn't know what to do. 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 
down to her pussy with her right hand.

I was awestruck by 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. There was a glistening sheen of moisture on her labia 
as she slipped her finger into her sex, and I was captivated by 
the sight. She pumped her finger a couple of times, in and out, 
in and out, then withdrew it and pressed down against the top of 
her slit.

She began moving her right hand in small circles, pressing down 
at the top of her pussy. She alternated 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 while 
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 my palm, 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 me. She was always careful never to 
touch my still-tender balls, and alternated 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 it in her 
mouth. Then she would work her tongue against the shaft and 
slowly withdraw, letting her lips drag along my length.

Not knowing what else I should be doing, I simply leaned my head 
on the back of the couch and enjoyed the blowjob. She took things 
slowly, and because I had already come once, it took longer for 
my climax to build. When I masturbated, I knew exactly what to do 
to bring myself off quickly, increasing pressure here, stroking 
faster there. Her mouth 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. 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 
chest. After 15 or 20 seconds, she let out an explosive breath 
around my trapped penis, and withdrew her mouth from 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? Would she 
not want to "do stuff" with me again because I wasn't any good?

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

When her breathing had returned to normal, she opened her eyes 
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 pulled her left arm underneath her and laid 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, tilted it to look at the clock, and 
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 pussy, I saw that her lips were pink and swollen, and that 
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, just 
as I had come out of the hall bathroom. She had been masturbating 
in her bedroom! The idea crashed over me like a wave, and I was 
stunned.

I had little time to contemplate my revelation, as she extended 
her hand to help me up from the couch. When I took it 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 enjoyed. When we entered the 
bathroom, she gestured for me to take off my shoes and socks 
while 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 
soapsuds sheen her round breasts and flat stomach as she cleaned 
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 washcloth 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 surely would have stiffened instantly.

Once under the showerhead, I let the warm water run over me and 
tilted 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. With that 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, lovingly 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 wash 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 to me so I 
could hang it on the bar on the far wall of the shower. I leaned 
forward and stretched to hang it and I felt her lips capture my 
soft penis. When I had the washcloth hung, I leaned back and 
looked down at her. Her hair was slicked back and her eyes were 
closed as she gently sucked me. 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, shut the water off, and 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, and 
then hung our towels up to dry. I grabbed 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 meet my Mom and Erin for dinner. I shifted 
from foot to foot, not knowing what to say.

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 courtyard, 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. 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 (c) 2002 Nick 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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