How the Women Got Plastered and Patrick Got Busted - Cover

How the Women Got Plastered and Patrick Got Busted

Copyright© 2007 by Lubrican

Chapter 5

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Patrick had two sisters, a mother, two aunts and a grandmother. When he somehow got permission to let him photograph their breasts, for a college project, it set in motion a chain of events that would eventually involve the police, an internet company, about five hundred pounds of plaster, and possibly the value of ice cream stocks on Wall Street. Like the breasts he so loved to work with, Pat's life would grow and ripen. But things kept going wrong, and the reprecussions were adding up.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Romantic   Reluctant   Coercion   BiSexual   Humor   Incest   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Pregnancy   Exhibitionism   Slow  

Of them all, I expected Aunt Christy to be the most reserved. She didn’t have any children yet either, but she looked like a Soccer Mom, to me. She had dark brown hair, that she kept cut short. She was very pragmatic about most things. She worked at a Doctor’s office, but she wasn’t a nurse. She did something with medical records. She didn’t dress flashy, or anything like that. She looked like what I expected Randi to look like when she was ten years older.

What I didn’t know about Aunt Christy was that, when she married Danny, she was a virgin. Not only was she a virgin, she had never seen another man’s body, and had never let any of her boyfriends do anything more than grab a quick feel, and kiss her for hours. When her sister’s husband had tried to divest her of her virginity at that New Year’s Eve party, he was the first man to shove his hand in her panties. He’d been in the act of getting naked, when she screamed. Danny, who was just a friend of his, and who had come along to the party because he had nothing better to do, arrived like the knight on a white charger that he really was, and saved Christy’s bacon. Or muffin. Or peach. Or Cherry.

It’s amazing now many slang names there are for pussy that have to do with food.

Anyway, after the excitement was all over, and Aunt Vanessa had dragged her husband out of the house by his ear, Aunt Christy had reacted to the whole thing in a way nobody in the world would have expected. Basically, she almost gave up to Danny, what he had barged in to protect. It turned out he was old fashioned, and wouldn’t do it, and she was hooked on him for life. They started going out, and she badgered him into marrying her so she could give him her virginity.

So, when my Aunt Christy went upstairs to have her breasts photographed, she was going to show them to a man other than Danny, which was a first, for her. She spoke female, so she was also aware that she might get to see evidence that she was desirable ... evidence that, in the past, she had intentionally avoided seeing. Not counting Danny, of course.

She had also worn a dress that night, but not for the same reason Aunt Vanessa had. She’d done it because she wanted to look nice, and she thought she looked nicer in a dress. She was simple like that, and very pragmatic.

She was sitting on the bed when I came in. I was dressed in newer, if a little looser shorts. The first thing she looked at was the front of those shorts. I’d laid my little problem to one side, and he made a horizontal line across the front of the shorts. Aunt Christy blushed furiously, and moved her hands to lay them in her lap. She looked more nervous than any of the others.

“You okay?” I asked, not wanting her to get upset.

She blinked at me. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little breathy. “I’ve just never done anything like this before.”

“Neither have I,” I said.

“Yes you have,” she said instantly.

Like I said, she was very pragmatic, almost literal minded.

“Yes,” I agreed, when I realized what she was talking about. “But not with you.”

“Of course not,” she said.

I saw trouble on the horizon. Aunt Christy had always treated me well, but more like I wasn’t there, most of the time.

“You don’t really have to do this, if you don’t want to,” I said.

“Yes I do,” she said, again, instantly. “I agreed to do it.”

“Yeah,” I said, “But I don’t want to...”

“Just tell me what to do!” she barked.

I would find out later that Aunt Christy had a kinky side to her, that only Danny knew about. It was a weird kind of thing where she thought about stuff happening to her, that she didn’t want to happen to her, except that she did. What it amounted to was that if somebody told her to do something, that was okay. She couldn’t do it on her own, because that would mean she was a bad girl. But if somebody told her to, and she secretly wanted to anyway ... then that was okay.

There was a lot more going on with Christy, while we did this, than there was with anybody else. I didn’t understand that then, but she had told me to tell her what to do, so I did.

“You’ll have to take off your dress,” I said.

“All of it?” she asked, her eyes going round.

“Well, I guess you could just undo it, and let it fall around your hips,” I said.

“No, I’ll take it off,” she said, blushing. “I wasn’t planning on this part, though.”

She stood up, turned around to face away from me, and took her dress off. She was wearing a basic pair of matching white panties and bra ... nothing sexy ... but of a modern design. She had a classical hour glass figure, with wide shoulders, moving to a narrow waist, and hips that seemed to just explode out from there.

She looked back over her shoulder at me. Her eyes looked funny, kind of dreamy like.

“What now?”

“Take your bra off?” I said, not quite a command.

“Yes!” she said. “Okay ... take my bra off.”

Her hand reached around behind her, in that impossible way women have of reaching the middle of their back, and her fingers flicked at the catch of her bra. It did the same spring forward thing that Grandma’s had done, and she did the same shrugging thing that made it flop down into her hands. She was still facing away from me. She held the bra in her hand, and her head lowered. She didn’t do anything at all ... just stood there, like she was ashamed, or something. I almost expected her to grab her clothes and run out of the room, but she didn’t.

“What should I do with it?” she asked.

I was confused, at that point.

“Put it on the bed,” I said, for lack of anything else to say.

She did so immediately, and stood there again. I began to realize she wasn’t going to do anything at all, unless I actually told her to.

“Go over by the drapes,” I said.

She walked there immediately.

“Turn around.”

She did, and her hands came to cover her breasts. Her eyes went to the front of my pants again.

“I can’t take the pictures if you cover them up,” I said softly. “Put your hands down.”

Her hands almost shot down to her sides, and she sucked in her stomach. That made her breasts push out at me.

Aunt Christy’s breasts were different. They were round, like Randi’s, but bigger. There were no panty hose involved with her breasts. They had simply pushed her tight skin straight out, to form two halves of a huge soft ball, with light brown nipples on them that stuck straight out. Those nipples were longer than anybody else’s, thought they weren’t as fat as Grandma’s. They looked hard and rubbery. Her areolas were lighter brown than the nipples, but definitely brown, and not pink. Her breasts looked hard as a rock, with no place to even try to put a pencil. She was standing so ramrod straight that it looked uncomfortable.

“Pat?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“This is embarrassing.”

I tried the same thing with her that I’d said to her sister. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re really very beautiful.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” she said. She seemed to be having a hard time breathing.

“Why not?” I asked. “It’s true.”

“Nobody besides Danny has ever seen me like this,” she whispered.

“Danny is very lucky,” I said.

“Are you going to take the pictures?” she asked, hoarsely.

“Yes,” I said, somehow feeling like I had control over her. I didn’t know where that came from. “Just stand there, while I frame the shots in my mind.”

“Okay,” she said instantly.

I walked to the side, and looked at those bulging, tight mounds. They looked so different, that what I actually thought about was that there really would be choices for the men to make, when they saw all these pictures. While all of these breasts were from the same genetic line, they didn’t look at all the same. There were similarities, but they were different too.

“Lift your arms over your head,” I said.

She did so immediately. The shape of her breasts didn’t change one bit, though they rose on her chest a little.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “You can let your arms down again.”

She did that instantly too. I started taking pictures. I took more of her than I needed to too.

I told her I was done, and she just stood there.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Do you promise you’ll never tell anybody I asked you this?”

“Okay,” I said, rewinding the film.

“Are you ... um ... hard right now?”

Don’t ask me how I knew to act outraged. It was just a feeling.

“Aunt Christy!” I said, almost a gasp.

She flushed bright red, clear down to her nipples. They looked even longer and harder now, than they had when we started. You could hang a necklace off of them, if you wanted to.

“I know,” she said miserably. “Never mind.”

“Yes, I am,” I said, wondering how she’d react.

“For me?” she squeaked.

“I guess so,” I said, losing a bit of my bravado.

“Ohhhhhhh,” she moaned. Her fingers twitched, at her sides. I remembered Randi, squeezing one of her nipples, after I had taken her pictures ... and Aunt Vanessa, getting wet ... down there. My genius mind finally caught up with at least some of what was happening.

“It’s okay to be excited,” I said softly. “The others got excited too.”

Her head swiveled and her eyes stared straight into mine.

“They did?” she squeaked.

I nodded. “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman. I can’t help but see that ... like this.”

“You can never, ever tell anyone about this,” she gasped.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said.

“You told me about them,” she said, pragmatically.

“I was afraid you were going to scream,” I said.

“I feel so...” She didn’t finish it, and her head turned back to the front, her eyes staring straight ahead. “I never felt like this before,” she finally finished.

“I understand that completely,” I said, truthfully. I’d never felt like I did about these women like I did now either.

“The others ... they really got excited?”

“Grandma even wanted to see me,” I said, without thinking.

Her head snapped back toward me.

Get out!“ she gasped. I knew she didn’t mean that literally.

“She said she hadn’t seen ... one ... in so long that she’d forgotten what they looked like,” I said. “You can’t tell her I told you that.”

“I won’t!” she yipped. “She really looked at it!”

I nodded. Something popped into my mind.

“You want to see it too?”

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