Dating apps are a joke. Trying to connect through a few filtered profile pictures and half-hearted text exchanges feels so humiliating, so desperate. But as humans, we try anyway. This conversation, at least, was going well.

I was new to all this—real sex, intimacy—but sexting? That was my thing. My fingers moved faster than my thoughts as I pressed the buttons on my phone, my left hand lingering at my waistband, hovering. The message I typed felt perfect, sinful in its simplicity: “Why don’t you just come over and sit on my lap? Nobody’s home...”

I was about to press send, my heart pounding as the screen pulsed with an ellipsis, indicating her reply was on its way. Anxiety tightened my chest, and I copied the message to my clipboard, clearing the screen to prepare for more. But just then, another notification popped up—a message from my aunt.

I flipped over to her chat, intending a quick response. But in my haste, I pasted the message and hit send.

Time slowed. My eyes widened as the words I had crafted for someone else now stared back at me, searing into my retinas like fire:

“Why don’t you just come over and sit on my lap? Nobody’s home...”

A cold sweat broke over me. My heart hammered in panic as the dreaded blue ticks appeared beneath the text, signalling it had been read. Her status shifted to “typing...”

Every possible reaction played out in my mind. Disgust. Outrage. A block. This would haunt me forever. But instead, the response that came made my pulse quicken and the breath catch in my throat:

“Is now ok?”

My body froze as conflicting emotions roared through me, a cacophony of disbelief, shock, and something far more dangerous. She had reciprocated.

My aunt. Carmen.

I’d spent years pretending not to notice her during family gatherings. Her wide hips, thick thighs, and sharp, commanding presence were impossible to ignore. She exuded an air of effortless dominance, a magnetism that made me straighten my back when she entered the room, yet stirred something unruly in me.

I’d stolen glances—at the way her dress clung to her curves in the draught as she stepped out for a cigarette, at the sway of her hips when she thought no one was watching. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to make this mistake.

I typed slowly, my hand trembling over the screen:

“I’m alone.”

The words hung there for what felt like an eternity before I pressed send. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to stop, to backtrack, but the message went through. My skin prickled as the read receipt appeared.

Minutes bled into hours as I sat there, heart pounding, barely noticing the gradual shift from evening to night. Then, I heard it—the low rumble of an engine pulling up outside.

The headlights carved long shadows across the living room walls. I swallowed hard as the sound of a car door shutting echoed in the crisp night air. The front door creaked open, and then came the unmistakable click of high heels against the wooden floor.

My body tensed.

I sat up, eyes fixed on the doorway as a silhouette emerged. The air shifted as she stepped into the light.

Carmen.

Her long black coat clung to her body, highlighting every curve as if it had been tailored for temptation itself. Her jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that felt regal and untouchable. Her green eyes locked onto mine, glinting with something I couldn’t quite name.

She sauntered toward me with a confidence that sent a shiver up my spine, every step measured, deliberate.

I tried to breathe, but the sound caught in my throat as she bent down. Her lips hovered dangerously close, her breath hot against my skin.

“So,” she murmured, a sultry tease in her voice, “sit on your lap, huh?”

The words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in silk. My mouth opened, but the words came out in a broken, shaky rush:

“If ... If you want to, Aunt Carmen.”

Disbelief and a thrilling mixture of anxiety and anticipation fought a war within me as her smirk acknowledges my submission. She straddled my lap, her weight pinning me to the sofa, her body positioning itself with deliberate precision.

“Wow, you’re hard for your aunt already?” Her smirk deepened as she wiggled her hips against my throbbing bulge. “You do know how inappropriate this is?” Her voice crackled with sultry intensity, the sensation surreal as she rubbed against me.

“I’m sorry, please don’t tell my mum.” My hands trembled, not daring to touch her without permission.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that; this will be our secret.” She caressed my cheek, her other hand deftly unbuttoning her coat. In one fluid motion, she shed it, revealing her figure. Awe-stricken, I stared at her commanding silhouette—black lace garter belt, black panties, her large breasts practically radiating heat toward my cheeks.

I couldn’t help but rub against her slickening pussy lips through her panties. “Is this what you wanted, you pervert?” Her voice pierced through my haze as her arms locked me in place. “You’re lucky Aunt Carmen has been lonely lately.”

She dropped her weight fully onto me, her ample ass resting on my thighs. The illicit thrill sparked feral desires within me. “Can I touch you?” I asked instinctively, desperate to feel her soft, porcelain skin.

With a chuckle, she guided my hand to her thigh, slowly leading it up the curve of her hip and waist. My heart pounded with each inch of soft, warm skin. As she approached her breast, her face betrayed her own anticipation as I felt the heat of her arousal on my hardness, a dripping warmth causing my joggers to stick to me. Her grip commanded me to cup her breast, it spilled between my fingers as I lifted it, her heat causing my hand to sweat as she asked with a softened voice, “Do you like that?” I could see her bit her lip as her back arched slightly, “Do you like your aunt’s soft breasts?”

She saw me wince, fighting the agonizing pleasure threatening to end this sweet encounter too soon. “Oh, you poor boy, you just can’t wait to be inside your aunt, can you?” Her hand traced through my hair, her lips grazing mine. I could smell the expensive champagne and cigarettes on her breath, mingled with her natural floral scent—intoxicating.

Nodding, I stared into her piercing green eyes. “Let Aunt Carmen show you what a real woman feels like,” she whispered, her cheek radiating heat against mine. Distracted, I didn’t notice her pulling her panties aside until shock gripped me—the soft petals of her pussy rubbed against me, a tuft of black hair peeking out.

“Does it look nice?” she teased, pulling down my waistband with urgent need.

She gasped softly as my cock sprang free, meeting the wet, slippery flesh of her heat with a gentle slap. She moaned—a soft, muffled sound. Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, look at that. Well done. Looks like I’m going to enjoy myself after all.” Adrenaline coursed through me, torn between fear of getting caught and the urgent need for her to continue.

Her hand traced my body and I felt her warm fingers lock around my shaft, the sensation sent my head back in a torrent of pleasure. She sat up slightly and positioned herself, spreading her slickened pussy lips with my sensitive tip. A sudden, searing tightness enveloped me, a gasp escaping as our eyes locked. Her lips parted slightly as I entered her, the slick sound accompanying the velvety warmth of her insides. She guided her body, drawing me in with maddening tightness, our heat mingling inside her.

We crossed this unholy threshold, and I teetered on the brink of ecstasy. Our bodies connected with another wet slap as she arched her back. “You’ve grown up so much,” she confessed, her hands gripping my shoulders. Her pussy rhythmically clenched my cock, tearing at my sanity. “I’m going to start moving now. Be a good boy and try to last as long as you can.” Her stern request made me want to obey, but my body begged me for release. I gritted my teeth and furrowed my brow, desperate to satisfy her.

She began rocking her hips forward and back, a hypnotizing motion that had me groaning and tensing. Her pubic hair brushed my belly, and I watched her glistening folds stretch and contort with each thrust. The bud of her clit peeked atop her labia, begging to be touched. Seeing my eyes fixated on it, she commanded, “Make your aunt feel good. Here...”

She took my hand and placed my thumb in her mouth, licking it thoroughly. Her tongue was hot with desire. “ ... and rub your Auntie’s clit.” Her sultry voice was magic as she guided my hand to her belly, my thumb gently flicking her quivering bud while my cock stretched her obscenely.

“Do it like you mean it, honey,” she instructed, shutting her eyes tightly. Her pace increased, her milky thighs tensing as she continued the grind. I rubbed her clit, flicking it between her soft, velvety lips. My thumb slicked with her juices, and the intoxicating smell of her arousal spurred me on.

Her heavy breathing and stifled moans drove me to the edge. I could feel my cock throb inside her, stirring her insides deeper than I thought possible. I couldn’t hold back the waves of illicit pleasure. Begging, I whispered, “Aunt Carmen, please...”