NOTE: This story is only meant for matured people (18+)
I asked Aunty Tope again, to be sure about what I heard her say at first. And yes, she
repeated it. She meant what I heard. She was even motioning with her protruded meat-filled mouth for me to go ahead fast! The itching seemed to be unusually severe and discomforting. She tried saying something but the meat in her mouth stifled her voice. She could only mutter some inaudible meaningless sounds to which
I paid little attention. "Get closer ma," I managed to require, doing my best
to keep my composure. If someone had
told me a minute ago, that I would soon be in
such an awkward position, I would have flatly argued the possibility!
"Uhhmmmm….uhm…uhmmmm" she
growled again.
It was hard to get a word from her but
I seemed to understand her to mean I should hurry.
So I began dipping my hand into her denim
trousers.
As I did, the same scary question that
had being in my head all along popped up one more time "what if mom comes into the kitchen?". That
was a big question I wasn't sure what answer it could get. Mum should be tremendously happy to link this rather curious situation of ours to all her long existing suspicions. The earlier I went about this, the better, it seemed.
Initially, it kept proving too tight to maneuver but when I remembered that the hook was still intact, I was quick to go for it.
Aunty Tope as we called her was (in simple
explanation) mum's closest friend. She
attended the Teacher's Training College with mom back in the days and both graduated to become basic school teachers.
Although mom progressed further and have grown to become a lecturer in the University.
Tope didn't have exactly the same story. She joined the business society and soon became far richer than mum. She was never married though and thus always had all the time in the world to make long visits to our home.
She usually stayed several weeks before leaving and we all grew up knowing her to be some kind of inexplicably 'unrelated' relative.
Unfortunately, as I got older I began to notice her a bit more. And this time, not just as Aunty Tope but as a very pretty woman who I was going to be more than glad to F**K. She was in her early forties and more than 18years older than me but I never cared! I always had long-lasting erÂŁctions thinking about her!
Many times I had poured my Pour just at the thought of holding her bre@sts which were
actually the most beautiful things in her body! Even though I have caught her starring at me a lot of times, I still haven't really felt she was interested in going in with me.
Probably because of the age difference but I was dying within me to see her change her
mind. Mum noticed the crush and had to call me on a certain occasion for explanations during which I starkly denied ever having any interest. Needless to say, her monitoring increased and she rarely ever allowed the
two of us in the same rooms for too long. Her
constant reference to Aunty Tope as a loose woman was enough to drive home why she
would think Aunty Tope could F**K me. I wasn't seeing the likelihood myself. At least until this moment!