2 Pair of Boobs
Copyright© 2025 by A.L
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - After my aunt got divorced from her husband, she was feeling alone, so my mom told me to go and console her. But I didn't expect that full dynamic with her would lead me to her bedroom.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Incest Mother Son Aunt Nephew Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Cream Pie First Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Safe Sex Sex Toys Squirting Tit-Fucking BBW Big Breasts Slow
Lust was an arterial burst when I felt the spongy-firm texture of Aunt Marion’s breasts. I groaned, cock pulsing as it leaked pre-cum not my underwear, my lips going to one nipple.
My aunt gasped and let out a yelp as I sucked at her teats. “Oh!” she cried, my mouth going from one nipple to its twin. “I didn’t say you could suck my tits, Tommy!”
“But I have to,” I groaned, wild with desire. “Please let me,” I gasped, hands full of her flesh.
I gabbed and squeezed, thrilled by the abundance of females. I thought she was gorgeous, my aunt, warm and pliant, her body exposed. I wanted to lick her all over. I wanted to kiss her, to feel her skin and the warmth coming off her. I could smell her scent.
I wanted to fuck my cock into her body and flood her with cum.
“Bad boy,” I heard my aunt chuckle. There was no anger in the sound. I knew, on a distant, instinctive level, that my aunt didn’t mind.
“You’re sexy,” I gasped, awed by her breasts.
“I’ve been told,” my aunt replied. “It’s usually my tits.”
I had my hands full of her breasts when she said it, flesh spilling over the cups of my palms and fingers.
“You like big boobs, Tommy?” purred my aunt.
“Yours,” I said, squeezing and groping.
Aunt Marion allowed me time to touch her body. She sighed, chuckled, and told me I was a very naughty young man. “But I understand how you feel, Tommy,” she added. “How urgent it is.”
After she said it, she pushed me away, covering her breasts with her forearm and hand. I looked up from her boobs to her face. My focus went from the pink nail polish and Uncle Mike’s wedding ring to my aunt’s face. She was looking back at me, a smirk on her face.
“If you calm down a bit,” said my aunt. “I’ll take off these bottoms. But,” she continued when I opened my mouth to blurt my desire, “you need to promise you won’t lunge, Tommy. I’ll let you see me all bare, but I want you to keep control of yourself. Don’t go mad and grab me.”
I gawked, feeling the weight of my hanging jaw as I took in what she’d said.
“If you can do that,” my aunt went on, “I’ll do things with you.”
Desire ballooned inside me. It was unbelievable. It was shocking. The transition from worry over exams to the scene in the kitchen had me almost floored with surprise.
In a gluey, time-slewed, surreal moment, I stared at my aunt, my own mother’s sister, mid-reeling with the potential and disbelief as I croaked out a strained, “What things?”
Desperation for it all to happen was a leaden sinker plummeting into the pit of my stomach when I heard my aunt whisper, “Sex things, Tommy.”
I groaned and pawed at the front of my trousers, squeezing my cock.
“You’re mad for it, aren’t you?” murmured my aunt. She glanced at my hand and then looked into my face with her expression abruptly intent. “Randy, aren’t you, Tommy?”
I boggled and managed to croak, “Aunt Marion...”
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