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From the moment I discovered my used panties under the mattress of the bed in my guest room, I could think of nothing but my nephew _ and what would come next. I became almost obsessed with how I would tease him.
Slowly I devised a plan.
It was so naughty, it shocked even me.
But it was something I thought would drive him out of his mind, and turn me on too, but one where I could claim innocence if I wanted to do so. Mind you, I’m definitely not innocent _ and I certainly didn’t think I would want to pretend I was, but I needed to rationalize my very unhealthy and growing interest in my nephew.
I still didn’t know, and had spent a lot of time considering, whether I was getting off more on the exhibitionism, or the fact that it was my nephew I was teasing. I always have had a streak of exhibitionism and I’ve never tried to shy away from it. I like being looked at. I work hard to stay in shape. I enjoy my body immensely _ and I make no secret of it. Masturbation, for me, is a daily ritual.
But despite that, my nephew was young, in his senior year in high school, not anywhere near as worldly as he should be by his age, very handsome, if with a slim, boyish body. There was something of that in it, too, I knew. The innocence. The boyishness. Did I merely want to be a modern version of Mrs. Robinson? Did I want a virgin? And I did believe, completely, that he was still a virgin.
I probably should have thought of all those concerns and issues a lot more than I did.
Instead, I concentrated on my plan to drive him right out of his mind with lust. If he wanted to get a good look at his auntie, then I had a plan that would make that happen.
I got out of work early Friday and picked him up after school. I had a couple of errands to run, and then we went out for pizza. I was dressed VERY demurely. I had determined this was going to be a very quiet _ and uneventful _ evening. I wanted to prolong the anticipation … the new day would bring an unforgettable experience, I hoped, for both of us.
Over pizza, I asked him if he was planning on being around in the morning, since I could use his help. He said, “No problem.”
Then I set the stage.
I told him I wanted to rearrange the shelves over my refrigerator and would need him to hold the ladder. They were tough to reach, even if you took the trouble to move out the refrigerator. I could never understand why any builder, why anyone, in fact, would ever put cabinets OVER the refrigerator. I didn’t know anyone who actually could reach bostancı escort them. They inevitably became a home for nothing, for things you hardly ever used, or things you never used. I couldn’t even remember what I had put up there _ but I knew they were crammed full.
And it was time to clean them out.
While standing on a ladder.
A ladder that my nephew was holding from below.
Get the picture?
Now, consider that I wore a loose top. And no bra. Just in case I had to lean forward, by accident, of course, for any reason.
And I knew I would have to do that, more than once, I was sure.
To make it even more interesting, I wore a skirt.
Yes, I was going UP the ladder in a skirt. Jeans wouldn’t work. What would you see? Tight shorts would afford an excellent view of my ass, and I had one pair that would achieve a perfect camel toe look, but they just weren’t revealing enough. Not for this exhibitionist. Not for this opportunity. Not to fulfill this fantasy.
I completed the wardrobe with a red thong. A skimpy red thong that would cover my shaved pussy _ and that was all it would cover. In the mirror, I determined the look was perfect. When I put the mirror on the floor, to see what my nephew would see, I immediately got turned on looking at the view! And I KNEW what it looked like. I played with it often enough. I could well imagine what HIS reaction would be.
I knew he could see anything and everything on the Internet, but this would be better, I was confident. First, I was real. Second, I was his aunt. Third, I was a damn good looking woman. Four, I wasn’t going to try and hide anything from his wandering eyes. Fourth, no real guy, never mind a teenager, is going to be looking up any woman’s skirt without getting turned on.
And I planned to give him the view of a lifetime. I wanted him fulfilling his absolutely wildest fantasies by looking at my ass and barely covered pussy.
And look he did! Before I got anywhere near the refrigerator. Before I even got the ladder out.
I could see his mind working over the reality that I was standing there in a skirt. That I was going to be on a ladder. That he was going to be down below. Looking UP! It was written all over his face. And, in an increasingly pronounced way, on the bulge slowly growing in his jeans. I think I would have seen it even if I hadn’t been looking for it. It was pretty hard to hide, though he was trying.
I had him get the ladder and set it up in front çeliktepe escort of the refrigerator. I knew I would have to lean forward to reach the cabinets. Naughty. So naughty!
I actually stalled. Chatting, getting a drink of water. Prolonging it. For both of us. I was so turned on I was shaking. Way back in my mind, a little voice kept saying, “You don’t have to do it. You can stop this now.”
I ignored it.
And slowly, slowly, went up the ladder, with him right below me. One step. Two steps. Three. And on the fourth step, I knew he could see right up my skirt.
I moved around enough on the ladder, and really took my time, to be sure he enjoyed peeks from every angle. I looked down to catch him staring up my skirt several times, and didn’t try to hide anything. I was truly turned on.
I removed a couple of things I knew I would never need or use, stepped down a couple of steps, and bent over to hand them to him. I knew he could see my breasts. If I had had any doubt, the way he was staring at them would have reassured me instantly. And he was so busy looking, he didn’t even attempt to hide the hard-on bulging in his jeans.
I went back up. Removed some more things. This time, I just turned around on the ladder, so he had to reach up. I then “accidently” dropped a couple of small wicker baskets I had been trying to hand to him. I was apologizing and he was looking up at me telling me no problem _ as he looked right up my skirt at the thin patch of crimson covering my pussy. No lie; he almost choked. His voice was so husky he could barely talk. His face was as red as my thong.
I put some new shelf paper in the cabinets and realized I couldn’t stall much longer. My panties were soaking wet, and I was certain he could see that. If I could feel the wetness, then I knew it must be very, very visible. The only question I had was if even knew what that meant.
This had been my plan, my entire plan. I really hadn’t thought any further than this. As I was preparing to come down off the ladder, I had no idea what would happen next. Now, truthfully, I would have to admit if he reached up and touched me, I doubt seriously I would have had the control to stop him. I probably would have submitted right then and there. But I was certain that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t ready … yet …
And I knew I could control my urges, though I really wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. All those thoughts were racing through my head.
And then, I was at the bottom cihangir escort of the ladder.
And I turned around, and my eyes went immediately to his hard-on. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to taste it. I wanted to ride it. I wanted to make him cum, watch it shoot out all over.
He saw where I was looking. He turned bright, bright red, even darker than the crimson of my thong. My soaking wet thong.
And then I felt guilty. Like I was torturing him for my own personal pleasure.
That’s when I became the very naughtiest aunt possible. I couldn’t help myself.
I wasn’t going to do anything.
It was supposed to stop there.
But I couldn’t.
I was too turned on.
Still looking at his bulging cock, I suggested maybe he should go do something about “his problem.”
And that maybe I could help.
I looked right at him and said, “I know you seem to like my panties.” I told him I had found the pair under the mattress, and before he could die, and he looked like he was going to, I very quickly added, “And it really turned me on to think that my panties excited you so much …”
Then, with him staring at me open-mouthed, I reached up the sides of my skirt and slowly started sliding the thong off. Slowly. Looking right at him. And I said, “So maybe you would like to take these with you?” as I let them slip down to my ankles. I stepped out one foot, then the next, bent, picked them up, and handed them to him.
My skirt had covered me as I removed them, so he really didn’t see anything. He had seen more looking up my skirt with the thong on. But I swear his hard-on doubled in size as I picked them off the floor and handed them to him, looking right at him the whole time.
I told him there wasn’t anything wrong with masturbation, in fact knowing that he was looking up aunty’s skirt turned me on, too, and I was going to my room to do something about it and so should he.
I later found the cum-covered panties on the floor of his room.
I took him out to dinner that night, and we went to the mall shopping. I really wanted to play it safe. But, I also made it a point to do a lot of bending, a couple of times when he was in front of me, flashing panties in public, brushing against him, little things to keep him turned on. And it worked. And it kept me turned on.
I had no idea where this would go, but it already had crossed most of the lines I had set for myself.
When we got home, he went to his room and I went to mine _ but just long enough to take off my panties.
And then I knocked on his door.
And when he opened it, I asked him if he wanted the panties I had been wearing.
The look on his face was unbelievable. He didn’t say anything. He took them, I closed his door, went back to my room and fucked myself silly …
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