I have an aunt with whom I began to develop a strong infatuation over time (she is not a blood relative, but related to me only by marriage). My feelings for her were spurred on by the suspicion that she harbored sexual feelings for me. I began to see her as incredibly sexy and found myself taking a long series of increasingly adventurous and depraved forays into her room when she wasn't home...
This all started after a Christmas party one year at the home of the aunt in question and her family. After the party was over and everyone had left, I was in the kitchen with my aunt, telling her that things were not so great at home. My aunt was very sympathetic, hugging me very tightly, very often, and telling me that if I ever needed a place to stay, I could move in with them (her family). After a while, it seemed like she was laying the physical contact on a little thick, the way she was touching me seemed a bit too sensual for an aunt comforting her nephew. She pulled me closer to her, wrapped her arms around my waist, caressed my back and hips. She ran her fingers through my hair and caressed my cheek and kissed me constantly. It felt awkward, but she was also kind of attractive and I noticed that I had to pull my hips away so she would not feel the bulge developing in my pants. I did not know what to make of this, it was just this side of odd, and if this had happened in isolation I could have said that she was just feeling very affectionate in her intoxicated state.
Things did eventually get rocky at home, and I found myself living with her and her family, including my grandmother, uncle and cousin. I saw much more of my aunt, and still noticed that on occasions she touched me and seemed to almost flirt with me. She often told me how much I looked like my father at these times too. I would later hear the opinion from my mother that my aunt had always had her eye on my father and kind of settled for his brother instead. Once I heard this, my previously ambivalent opinion as to whether or not my aunt had the hots for me tipped in the direction of 'yes.'
My aunt and uncle had their own bathroom adjoining their bedroom, but the shower didn't work and my aunt would always shower in the common bathroom off of the hallway. She often left her dirty clothes on the floor for a while after a shower, including her panties. I have a panty fetish, which conspired with my growing curiosity about my aunt's behaviour towards me to really turn me on when I'd find them. I often picked them up and looked at them, to find white, creamy stains in the crotch of them. Sometimes the stains would bear the imprints of her labia. It really turned me on to think of these panties pressed up against her lips. The stains did not look like semen stains, so I was pretty sure they were from her.
Thinking about my aunt in this way really turned me on, and I found that I would think of her more and more often when I masturbated. I frequently masturbated into the panties that I'd find, cumming ecstatically into the stains that I knew had been rubbing against her mound all day. Then I would wad the panties back up and put them back in the bathroom where I'd found them.
I began to develop the theory that she masturbated a lot. Her panties seemed really, really creamy, and she spent hours alone in her room just about every night, my uncle always stayed downstairs, away from her, watching TV and only going into the bedroom very late at night. He woke up at 4am, so I just couldn't figure that they were spending a lot of time having sex. Their relationship seemed pretty strained, too.
This only fanned the flames for me. I now thought almost exclusively of her when I masturbated, fantasizing about going over the edge and finally making a move on her:
I would make her feel like a goddess and satisfy every desire of hers; when she stood in the kitchen, as she often did in the morning, wearing only her panties and a long nightshirt as she made coffee, I would stand behind her, thrusting my pelvis into hers from behind, reaching around her to wash out a coffee mug in the sink. I would whisper something clever and disarming into her ear and soon find my hand reaching around to rub her labia from outside her panties. It would be so torrid, so wrong, so hot. I never acted on this fantasy but it was one of my favourites.
I would wait to masturbate until she was in the bedroom at night, my own bedroom was right across the hall and I would take great pleasure in stroking my cock, imagining that she was just feet away, on the other side of a set of doors, rubbing herself into ecstasy.
After a while, I could not take it anymore. I had to know more. My panty fetish, combined with my lust for my aunt saw me sneaking into my aunt and uncle's room one afternoon while they were away. I went over to the dresser and found her panty drawer right away, as it was the top-middle drawer. I was amazed by what I found in there; all sorts of lingerie. String thongs, silk g-strings, garter belts and leggings, and a full body stocking. Just looking at it and touching it all excited me to no end, and it wasn't long before my cock was out and I began to stroke it. Then, something unexpected: I found the empty packaging from a set of g-spot stimulators meant to be worn over the fingers. I came very quickly after this. My hands were trembling, and the rush this gave me was like some kind of drug. It seemed to be confirmation: My aunt did love to masturbate! She had quite a kinky side! Or maybe my uncle used this stuff on her? No, it couldn't be. I pushed the thought away.
I was thrilled; if my aunt really had such a sexual appetite, maybe someday I would actually be able to realize my fantasies?
After I calmed down, I realized that I had only found the packaging. Where were the actual toys? I began to look in other likely places, in boxes under the bed, in the drawers of the night-table next to her side of the bed, no toys there, but I did find a romance novel. Eventually, I went to the bathroom and found a black travel bag in the cabinet under the sink. The thrill I received when I opened it was like nothing else I have ever experienced.
I reached into the bag and produced a pink, prickly vibrator. It was a large egg vibe, but shaped like a penis with alien-looking flagella that wobbled in a blur when it was turned on. My body temperature raised to a fever pitch, I was nearly panting, and I shook so much that I almost dropped the thing. Digging further into the bag, I found the g-spot finger stimulators too. Jackpot.
I ran back to my room, hurriedly grabbed a bottle of lube, and went back into my aunt's bathroom. Taking the vibrator out, I sat on the toilet, lubed up and pulled off the fastest orgasm I'd ever had despite the fact that I'd just come a few minutes prior. The vibrator still had speckles of dried creamy residue in some of its ridges. Words cannot describe how hot this was to me. I came again and again, like an addict, wanting to 'milk' this magnificent moment for all it was worth, knowing that from now on, the thrill would not be the same.
Sneaking into my aunt's bathroom when she wasn't home became a regular pastime. It was an incredible thrill, because my grandmother lived directly beneath the bedroom and the floor was creaky. I would go and retrieve the travel bag, dash back to my room with it and please myself with the vibrator, stroking myself to full rigidity using the vibrator as an aid. I'd turn it on and hold it up to my penis, or press it against the spot just behind my testicles. The vibrator was very powerful on full strength. As I would begin to drop precum, I would often rub the tip of the vibrator into it, thrilled at the thought that my aunt would later be putting this inside her. (I knew she could not get pregnant from this as she was on birth control). The possibility that my aunt and uncle might come home while I had the bag in my room made the thrill so intense. It was part of the fun. It actually happened once! I was terrified but my orgasm was amazing as a result. I was lucky enough to be able to get the bag back where it belonged before my aunt went looking for it again.
On another occasion, I found a pair of my aunt's panties totally soaked. Squirting was another fetish of mine and I thoroughly enjoyed wrapping the soaked portion of the panties around my cock and cumming into them. The smell of her fluids was intoxicating.
It just kept getting better and better, she was a squirter, too, right? Or was this pee? My answer came one day when she took a sick day. I knocked on her door because the dog was in her room and I was going to take the dog out. She seemed taken off-guard when I opened the door. A towel was spread out on her bed at about the place her pelvis would rest if she were leaning against the headboard, and she wasn't wearing any panties. There was also a belt laying on the towel. I came so hard later, imagining what she had likely been doing in there. What was she up to and how kinky would she get? Was she into asphyxiation or something? There were no limits as far as I was concerned. Every new discovery I made about her just made me want her all the more.
I never made a move on her or did anything about my desires other than raid her panty drawer and sex toy bag. I don't think I truly wanted to cross the line with her. The idea that we are both kinky self-pleasers seems more appealing to me and I like to imagine that she knew what was going on; maybe she left those soaking panties out in such an obvious place, right near the bedroom door, for me to find? Maybe she got turned on when I walked in on her?
I do not know for sure to this day whether she ever realized what I was up to. If she did, she never confronted me about it directly, though she sometimes asked me interesting questions that made me wonder if she was trying to broach the subject somehow. I just know that I enjoyed the fantasy in my head that she was sexually frustrated and taking care of business for herself, that she would enjoy what I would be able to do with her if I'd ever somehow break the ice, I even imagined that she did know what I was doing and secretly enjoyed the attention. But for all I know, she may have gotten plenty of attention from my uncle and thought I was a freak (assuming she was aware of my activities), and may have been too disturbed by what I was doing to bring it up with me. Who knows?
I am not proud of what I did. It was really depraved and naughty, but I think that's why I wanted to do it.
This story is detailed enough that if, by some miracle, she ever read it, she would probably know who wrote it. That in itself makes it kind of hot for me to write this; but if she is the kind of person who would read stories here, then I was probably right about her, and she might actually enjoy reading this.