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I was stunned.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
His eyes never left mine and his hands held mine tight.
“It’s always been you,” he said, smiling.
“On my God,” I said, feeling foolish for sounding like a goddam Valley Girl but unable to stop myself.
I slipped to my knees so we were eye to eye.
“David,” I said, feeling even more foolish as I felt tears flowing and my nose running, “I am unbelievably honored with your offer and I gladly, proudly, and humbly accept your gift.”
The kiss that followed, both of us leaning forward slowly until our lips brushed at first and then pressed more firmly, our mouths sharing, our tongues tentative and shy at first but then more demanding, our breath catching, but the only contact between us our mouths, is the kiss against which all other kisses since have been measured. Most have been found wanting.
I have read the phrase “time stopped” probably a dozen times over the years. I always thought it was trite and silly. A writer’s crutch when he or she didn’t know how to fill the space.
I was wrong.
It wasn’t sexual. It was beyond sexual. Nothing existed except our mouths. But the merging between us was more perfect than any sex could ever be.
Gradually I became aware again.
My breasts felt full, my areolas so tight and my nipples so hard they were pulling the skin.
My pussy was full too. I could feel my labia, swollen and tender, and my clitoris so hard it hurt where it rubbed gently against my panties and slacks.
The scent of my need was strong and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t embarrassed by it. I was proud of the way he was affecting me. I wished we were somewhere in public so everyone could see (and smell) how I felt.
He was the one who broke the kiss, leaving me to make a little mewing sound that I hadn’t ever made before.
When he took my hand, guided it to his mouth, and started sucking on my finger my sound turned to a soft, “unnhhhh.”
The tingle ran up my forearm, raising goosebumps on the inside of my biceps, and drawing my mouth open in an involuntary smile that turned into a silent cry of pleasure.
He brushed his fingertip across my palm finding an erogenous zone I didn’t know I had, and that drew a little gasp from me.
“Ummmmmmm,” I said, softly, touching his cheek, “you know your way around for a virgin.”
His grin made me grin back.
“Studyin’,” he said, tapping his forehead, “wanting to make sure I could please you.”
And that broke the tension while not breaking the mood.
“Davey,” I said, holding him at arm’s length, gazing into his eyes as the saying goes, “are you certain this is what you want?”
He laughed, a big, open, booming belly laugh.
“Aunt Ann,” he said, and again I felt that tingle when he called me that, “I have never been more certain şişli escort of anything in my life. I’ve waited a dozen years for this.”
He stopped then and squeezed my hand.
“But it’s still up to you,” he said, “and if you say ‘no,’ I’ll understand.”
It was my turn to laugh.
“Oh no,” I said, wrapping him in my arms.
It was awkward, both of us on our knees. The angles were odd and the weight moved forward, shifting my center of gravity. But it was good too.
“You’re puttin’ out,” I said, giggling and nipping his earlobe.
“Please, Br’er Fox, not the briar patch,” he said before covering my mouth in another kiss.
It was timeless and awkward and delightful, holding each other, kissing, and saying silly things while on our knees in the middle of my front room. When his hands found the hem of my blouse and tugged it free of my slacks I did the same with his shirt. We spent minutes, kissing and touching and fumbling with buttons before I had his buttons undone and leaned down to kiss the skin of his chest.
He had an extra layer to deal with, of course. He got the tiny buttons at my wrist undone and eased the blouse off, and then reached around to find the four hooks of my bra. It wasn’t some Victoria’s Secret item, just a plain white cotton bra, like all of my bras a 38DD, with wide straps, a support garment, not a display garment.
I enjoyed distracting him, my tongue probing his ear, tracing the shell, my breath warm as his fingers worked out how the hooks worked.
He finally worked it out and I felt the sudden release of tension as the last hook came loose. He leaned back, putting enough space between us to allow him to ease the straps over my shoulders and down my arms. I held his eyes and smiled as I moved my arms enough to let the bra fall away.
I don’t think I have ever been more aware of how my breast sag than I was at that instant. I had topped out at my 38DD size my junior year in college when I gave up gymnastics for more sedentary pursuits and my body added about 20 pounds and a few inches here and there. I never had children but at, well, let’s just say 40-something gravity had won, as it always does.
So there I was, tits sagging as he leaned back and looked.
And I felt the warmth of a blush spreading.
“God,” he said, reaching and gently lifting my breasts, just holding them in his hands, “so beautiful,” he breathed softly.
“I’m glad,” I started and my breath caught so I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and started over.
“I’m glad you approve,” I managed to get out before my voice broke.
**”Christ, Ann,” I thought to myself, “it’s not like this is your first time or anything, steady down.”**
He wrapped me in an embrace this time, awkward and for a moment I thought we were going to fall over, and this kiss was pure desire.
My kiss in response mecidiyeköy escort was just as desperate.
This was beyond sex. This was sharing. This was a prelude to making love. This was something I had never experienced before.
The kisses lingered until suddenly I cried out when my back cramped from the awkward position.
“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww,” I yelled, arching my back to ease the pain, “CRAMP! OWWWWW.”
He chuckled, released me, stood, and offered his hand in one smooth, athletic move.
I stood and bent over, pulling the cramp, making it relax, while he laughed softly and rubbed my shoulders. When it passed I stood, met his eyes, took his hand, and led him to my bedroom.
When I reached for him he caught my hand, smiled, kissed me, a soft kiss, and said, “me first.”
He eased to his knees and lifted my foot into his lap, forcing me to put my hands on his shoulders for balance, as he undid the buckle of my shoe and got it and the knee-high nylon off. Then he did the other foot before reaching for the buckle of my belt and then the button and zipper of my slacks.
My breath caught as he started working the slacks down past my hips and then my thighs before letting them drop to pool around my ankles.
My breath caught again when he leaned forward and kissed the line where the waistband of my panties cut across my belly button. They were just white cotton panties, no thong or even bikini cut.
He leaned back and looked up at me and then held my eyes as he began rolling the panties down, making a tightening band as he rolled them past my hips and ass to my knees and then down.
I surprised myself by not being embarrassed to stand there, naked, before my nephew. I felt naked, don’t get me wrong, more naked than ever, but I was proud too, and made a point of standing straight, my back arched slightly, my boobs and, yes, my pussy, displayed proudly.
He looked me slowly up and down, his eyes starting at my feet and slowly, deliberately, moving up until they found mine.
“Jesus,” he said, “you are SO goddam beautiful.”
And so help me, I blushed.
I watched, hell, I couldn’t break the eye contact, as he slowly bent forward and kissed my mons, that prominent Mound of Venus that highlighted my sex. His eyes held mine and I felt his hands cup the roundness of my ass, not pulling, just holding as his kiss became deeper, his tongue touching my coarse pubic hair, his eyes never leaving mine.
I realized that the hissing sound I heard was me.
And that softly whispered “please,” was me too.
He broke the kiss after some timeless period, and I could breathe again. When he stood and took me into his arms I felt oddly boneless I was so excited. My nipples ached, that ball of pressure in my belly was an entity separate from my body, a pure demand. I was having trouble catching my breath.
“Are escort istanbul you certain?” he asked and it took a few seconds for my brain to process the question, it was so unexpected, such a non sequitur.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His fingers were playing with my nipples now sending little electric shocks between them and my clitoris, making my body twitch with the intensity of my need.
“Say it,” he said, his fingertips finding another new spot, this one just below my ear at the jawline.
“Yes,” I whispered again after managing to catch my breath when that little electric jolt finally passed.
“Be polite,” he said, fingertips very light now, finding another spot, the slight bulge at the top of my thigh, one of those saddlebags I hated, giving me another tingle, this one different still, running from my clitoris to my anus and I could feel the skin between my legs tighten.
I knew, on a level WAY beyond thinking, what he wanted and I was afraid to give it to him. He wanted my surrender and that scared me.
“Be polite,” he repeated, this time his finger tracing the roundness of my ass to find that spot, at least this one I knew about, right at the tip of my tailbone. The sudden shock, my nipples hardening even more and my clitoris suddenly throbbing, robbed me of my will.
“Please,” I breathed out.
“Good girl,” he said, and on some level that broke the tension.
“Girl?” I giggled and grabbed him hard, “Youngster, no one has called me ‘girl’ in a while.”
He chuckled and said, “too far, huh?”
“Yep,” I said and dropped to my knees.
“My turn now,” I said.
I more or less mirrored what he had done undressing me. I held his foot in my lap to get his shoes and socks off and then did belt, button, and zipper for his pants.
I giggled at his tidy whities, and then rolled them down, again mirroring his actions, making a tight band, hobbling him, while I took my time, looking.
He was Mister average based on my fairly limited experience. He was hard and circumcised and he throbbed when I touched him.
I looked up, met his eyes, and said, “say it.”
He grinned and said, “please.”
I took his hands, slowly brushing my way up his body as I stood, feeling his need between us.
“Say you’re certain,” I said.
“I’m certain,” he said, wrapping me in his arms, his hands exploring freely now from my neck to my ass.
I broke the kiss and the embrace, turned the covers down, and crawled into bed. I assumed what I hoped was a welcoming pose, my arms spread, legs parted, and a smile on my lips.
“Well, okay then,” I said, giggling, watching as he crawled up onto the bed, his erection throbbing a little, and bobbing with his movement, as he got his knees between mine and began slowly moving forward, lowering his hips.
I was holding his eyes with mine, wanting to see his face as our bodies merged, and he was meeting mine, a smile that can only be called bliss on his face.
He moved, slowly, his back arching, getting closer, our eyes locked together.
At his first touch, he gasped and I felt him cum, a hot thick line up my belly.
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