I was fourteen when my parents left England to live in Hong Kong. To finish my education I went to stay with my aunt and uncle who lived in a large old house outside a small village between Oxford and Banbury. It felt like the end of the world. The village was boring and my Aunt Katharine was typical of the women who lived there; she didn’t work but had her nose in numerous village committees. Aunt Katherine was my mother’s older sister, but unlike my mother she was very strict with me, always nagging me about my homework or jobs I had to do around the house. She never seemed to enjoy anything she did; nothing was ever easy or pleasant with her. My Uncle Jack though was quite relaxed but he was seldom at home for long, probably because of her. Often he wouldn’t get home until late at night and sometimes stayed away for several days at a time. They were both in their early fifties and their kids had already left home, so it was just them and me. Neither of them had much time for me and unless Aunt Katharine was nagging about something she pretty much left me to my own devices.
The Easter holidays finally came around so at last I had some free time. The house was several miles from the village so I hitched a ride with Aunt Katharine as she had to visit the vicar on business. I was hanging around the dismal village shops when a friend from school showed up. He reckoned that we should catch a bus to the nearest town as the village was so dull. I wanted to go but knew I would have to okay it with Aunt first. The next bus was in about ten minutes so I ran back to the vicarage where my Aunt had dropped me off and ran round the back, as I usually did, to tell her I wanted to go. It was a pleasant day and I thought they’d be in the garden but they weren’t so I went looking for them in the vicar’s big oak panelled study but the house appeared deserted.
Confused, I was about to leave when I heard a bump from upstairs. I went to the bottom of the stairs and was going to call up but the situation seemed so strange that I didn’t. Was it burglars? Had Aunt Katherine and the vicar been kidnapped? I imagined myself on the front cover of the newspapers with the headline: ‘Boy 14 foils Vicarage Intruders’. I started to quietly climb the stairs; half way up I once more heard a bump, it came from what I presumed was one of the bedrooms. Fearfully I crossed the landing and listened at the door. Hearing what sounded like a bed banging on a wall I knelt down and looked through the keyhole. It took me a moment to figure out the tangle of flesh, but I when I did I realised that Aunt Katherine and the vicar were having it off on the bed! As I knelt there my heart pounded in my chest and I couldn’t move. I hardly breathed as I watched them, too shocked to think straight. I knew what they were doing, I’d heard all about it and seen models posing in porno rags that circulated at school, but the real thing was much more visceral than I had ever imagined.
Shocked by the scene and the thought of my aunt and the vicar I managed to back away and creep downstairs. I went back to the study, wrote a note to tell her I was going and then stuck it behind the windscreen wiper of her car as I left. I ran to the bus stop and caught the bus just as it was leaving. When I finally got home from my outing, Aunt Katharine was getting tea ready. I didn’t think I could face her but she called out from the kitchen, told me she had found my note and asked me if I had had a good afternoon. I mumbled some reply without meeting her eyes then she carefully asked me why I had left a note and not spoken to her directly. I told her that I had gone to find her in the vicarage, but no-one was there. A worried look briefly crossed her face, and then she said that I must have arrived when they were in the attic looking for curtains for the Church Hall stage. I just shrugged it off, trying desperately not to go red.
That evening I lay on my bed, the one place I could go to get out from under the feet of my aunt, and pondered the day’s events. I wondered how often Aunt Katharine and the vicar got together and realised that in all the time I’d been there she’d seen quite a lot of him. The vicar wasn’t married and was younger than her, probably in his forties. He wasn’t a particularly attractive man, he had a lisp and was thin and pale. Naked he had seemed even more unattractive, all hairy legs and buttocks. I hadn’t seen that much of Aunt Katharine’s naked body. She was also pale, but a medium build. I had seen one of her legs dangling off the bed as the vicar seemed to bounce on top of her and one of her large breasts squashed flat on the bed ... I shuddered. The adult world seemed so mysterious; I had no idea what he could see in her or she in him. I hadn’t thought much about it but always assumed adults stopped having sex after about thirty as they were too old. I was intrigued and wanted to find out more. I realised to my shame that my cock was getting hard thinking about the whole thing and the brief glimpse I’d had of ‘real’ sex, even between two such unattractive people. I took out my cock and began to stroke it. Thoughts of my mother’s naked sister body filled my mind unbidden and I came quickly and with far more vigour than I’d ever cum before. It was good and I wanted more.
The next day, I observed Aunt Katharine carefully. Did she seem any different now that I knew she was having a secret affair with the vicar? No. How are adults able to hide so cleverly the secret parts of their lives? My close observations did pay off though; I overhead her talking to the vicar on the hall phone and agreeing to meet him that afternoon. I was determined to see more this time.
Aunt Katharine left the house at two o’clock. She seemed her normal self, that is to say miserable, and was dressed in her usual dull matronly clothes. As soon as she had driven off, I raced after her on my bike, pedalling at full speed. I arrived at the village nineteen minutes later, panting and gasping - my all time speed record! Sure enough, Aunt Katherine’s car was outside the vicarage.
I padlocked my bike to a lamppost a couple of streets away and crept down the alley that connected the houses behind the vicarage. The gate to the vicar’s garden was locked, so I scrambled on top of a rubbish bin and peered over the fence. No sign of them, so, heart pounding, I crept into the garden and up to the house. There was no way they would have ever have noticed me - the vicar was screwing Aunt Katherine mercilessly. I always thought that sex would be enjoyable, but these two seemed to be in agony. Aunt Katherine, clothes still on but totally awry, was on all fours and the vicar was behind her, pumping madly. Aunt Katherine appeared to be groaning in pain with each stroke and the vicar’s eyes were screwed shut and his face distorted. My own cock began to rise and I felt the need to touch it. Pulling open my shorts, I gripped myself and began to masturbate. I no longer cared if it was right or wrong - I felt like I had entered the dangerous world of adults, where pleasure appeared to be painful. I came before they did, shooting my spunk onto my knee and the vicar’s patio. Red-faced I stuffed the subsiding erection back in my shorts and legged it back down the garden and over the fence.
Over the next days I mulled over what I had seen. I started to make connections about the adult world. Pleasure is pain. That would explain why adults claim to enjoy drinks like beer and whisky; I had sampled both and found them disgusting. I also began to suspect that all married couples were secretly having affairs. Maybe Uncle Jack even knew? I watched adults to see if I could see any glimpse of this secret world they hid. All the time I was becoming obsessed with Aunt Katherine and her pale body and large breasts. Her attitude to me never changed of course.
I’m ashamed to admit that eventually I even stole some of her clothes. I would take them under my blankets and masturbate as I sniffed them. One morning, when she was out, I even dressed up in her clothes and paraded in front of the large mirror in her bedroom. I imagined being her, being fucked by the vicar and then, ultimately, shamefully, being fucked by me. As soon as I came I would be disgusted with myself. I would take off the clothes as quickly as I dared without ripping them. I was starting to worry that I was becoming gay. I was fourteen, had no girlfriend, knew hardly any girls from the village and went to an all-boys school. Would a girl ever find me attractive? Would she ever want me to do what the vicar and Aunt Katharine did, or was that only for ugly people? I kept thinking that with a girl I’d be different. We’d hold hands and kiss but never do that beastly act that adults did. My thoughts would start pure, but then I could see us progressing, taking off our clothes, then I would start masturbating and the nice images would fade to be replaced by thoughts of us rutting like animals. I would cum and feel like I was being torn apart.
A few days later Aunt Katharine asked me to go to town to pick up some dry cleaning she had left there. The round trip usually took about three hours so I suspected that she just wanted me out the house so she could entertain the vicar. I pretend to leave then went and hid in the garden...
A man arrived at ten o’clock, I didn’t recognise him but I suppose he roughly about forty and dressed very smartly. Fortunately they sat in the lounge drinking tea, so I could see them through the big patio windows. Nothing appeared to be happening and then with no warning, Aunt Katherine stood and began to strip in front of him. I couldn’t believe it! They hadn’t kissed or touched and the man still sat calmly in his chair, holding his cup of tea, watching her.
Aunt Katharine had her back to me and was already unbuttoning her blouse. The blouse was placed on the table beside her before she reached behind her back to unclip her bra. I saw the side of one of her large breasts again as she turned but only for a second. She loosened her skirt and slid it down her legs. After it had been put beside her, she removed her panties as well. Naked, her back to me, I could only see her buttocks, which were full and firm. I longed to touch them.
She walked to the man and stood in front of him. He ran his hands over her legs and bum. I prayed for her to turn, to let me see all of her magnificent body, but I was out of luck. She held out her hand to him, he stood and they left the room and went upstairs. I knew I would see no more so after waiting for five more minutes I put on my bicycle clips, cycled into the village and caught the bus to town.
The bus was quiet, only three people were on it. I sat by myself thinking about Aunt Katherine. So she had two lovers. How many more I wondered? I wished I was a fly on the wall of her bedroom right then. I wanted to see all that she and that man did. I just wanted to watch her. Visions of her stripping filled my mind again and I went to the back of the nearly empty bus and made myself cum.
From that day on I tried to find ways to see Aunt Katherine naked. I would walk in unexpected to her bedroom but all I got was verbal abuse for failing to knock. I tried to climb trees in the garden and peer in her window but the view wasn’t right. I was desperate.
One day, while she was out I went in to her bedroom and looked for a place to hide. Really there were only two options: under the bed or in the wardrobe. I climbed in the wardrobe, which was a heavy, antique affair and found that by removing the big iron key from the lock I had a perfect view of the bed.
Two days later Aunt Katherine again asked me again to go to town with a feeble excuse about picking up a book. I made a big song and dance about leaving, slamming the front door, but staying inside the house. Aunt Katherine was busy in the kitchen so I crept back upstairs and hid in the wardrobe. I locked the wardrobe door from the inside and took out the key. Now, even if she wanted to open the wardrobe, Aunt Katherine would not be able.
I waited for what seemed like hours amongst the smell of her clothes. I even considered masturbating but managed to hold back, thinking of what may come. I must have drifted off in the musty cupboard as I was startled by the sound of talking and footsteps on the stairs. I glued my eye to the keyhole and saw Aunt Katherine and yet another man enter the room. He was older than either the vicar or the smart looking man. I guessed he was about my Aunt’s age.
He demanded straight away that she strip and she complied instantly. This time, after she removed her clothing, piece by piece I saw her naked body in all its glory. Her large breasts sagged, the nipples drawn into dark ovals. Between her legs was an unbelievable abundance of dark black hair. Once naked the man had her bend over the bed. To my surprise he slapped her bum several times, hard, as though she had been naughty about something. He seemed very grim and forceful and I wondered what my Aunt had done wrong. I half felt like leaping out of the wardrobe to defend her. Would that make her fall in love with me?
After several hard slaps he told to ‘prepare’. Aunt Katherine pulled some scarves from her bedside cabinet and proceeded to attach them to the four corners of her bed. I was fascinated. Then she knelt on the bed, facing the top and reached back and tied her ankles to the bottom two scarves. She put another scarf in her mouth before tying her left wrist to the third scarf and lying spread-eagled, face down on top of her bed. The man appeared beside her and secured her right wrist. The thought of my aunt’s constrained body made my cock rigid. Neither of them spoke, as if this was some old ritual. The man pushed his fingers into her pussy as she struggled, moved them around for a while then abruptly pulled them out and slapped her backside as hard as he could. I realised then why she was wearing the gag; she would surely have screamed otherwise. Worse was to come. He pulled his trousers down, straddled her legs and started to work his dick into what I’m sure must have been her arse hole. I watched spellbound as he screwed her bound body. Whatever he was doing was painful for Aunt Katharine as her back was arched and her head was thrashing from side to side.
I was spellbound. I couldn’t move. One part of me felt sorry for her. I wanted to rush out and save her. Another part of me though was fascinated and aroused. The savage beating and anal rape of my aunt made me so hard that it hurt.
The man must have cum, because he climbed off her and after cleaning his dick on the top sheet, pulled up his trousers. He pulled the gag from Aunt Katherine’s mouth and she sobbed out loud. Still tied, she asked him to fetch her housecoat to cover her. He looked round the room then asked her where it was.
“In the wardrobe,” she replied.
In fright I backed away from the keyhole as quickly as I dared. The man rattled the door and told her it was locked and there was no key. Aunt Katharine told him to look on the floor as it must have fallen, but of course, there was no key. Then, to my horror - she told him there was a SPARE KEY in her vanity box on the bedside table.
The next thing I knew daylight poured in to my hideaway and I sat, frozen, looking at the man who had just fucked my aunt’s arse. He was startled, but recovered quickly. With a firm grip on my arm he pulled me out and asked Aunt Katharine, sarcastically, if I was a friend of hers. Aunt Katherine, realising something was wrong, turned her head to see me and shrieked. I had gone numb with fright. Aunt Katharine looked horrified but the man was clearly enjoying the situation.
“So, this is your nephew who was supposed to be out of the house all morning?” he asked her.
She nodded, not looking up.
Then he addressed me. “So, a Peeping Tom in the family, eh? Well, I’ve had my fun so I’ll be off. I’ll leave you to untie your dear aunt, that is unless you want to leave her like that!”
He chuckled obscenely to himself, then whistling, made his way downstairs and out the house.
When he had gone we were both silent for what seemed like ages. Eventually Aunt Katharine spoke in an even voice. “David, would you be so good as to untie me and fetch my housecoat?”
Damn! She was pretending as though nothing had happened! I knew I had to address her then and there or this subject would never be raised again.
“Who was that man, Aunt Katharine? Why did he hurt you?” I cried, unable to prevent tears coming to my eyes.
Her body sagged visibly. It was obvious she didn’t want to say anything.
“David, listen, it’s very difficult to explain. I’m not sure I can.”
“What about those other men then?” I blurted.
Aunt Katharine stiffened when I said that.
“What other men?” she said.
“The vicar and that man who came to the house last week and made you strip naked in the living room!” I said.
Aunt Katharine gasped, then angrily turning her head to me said: “You little bastard! Have you been spying on me ever since you came to this house?”
I was taken aback by her sudden anger.
“Untie me IMMEDIATELY!” she shouted.
I was afraid.
“No way!” I said.
Aunt Katharine strained and pulled at her restraints but she had done an excellent job of tying herself to the bed. As she struggled I momentarily forgot the situation and admired the strength and beauty of her writhing naked body. Even my cock began to rise again. I ran to my own room, unable to face the situation.
I sat on my bed, considering all the alternatives. I knew Aunt Katherine was doing something wrong and that I had been bad to spy on her, but I couldn’t work out who was the worst and whether I would get punished. Suppose I went to Uncle Jack? Maybe I should just leave the house and let him find her tied up when he got in from work but I wasn’t even sure if Uncle Jack was due home that day.
It was then that I heard Aunt Katherine cooing to me. I dragged myself to her bedroom. Sure enough, the nightmare had not gone away. She was tied, spread-eagled on the bed, her buttocks reddening from the vicious slaps and now I noticed, a trickle of the man’s cum oozing between the crack of her buttocks. My cock stiffened instinctively. Aunt Katharine was trying to smile, but her face looked awful, swollen and puffy from crying. Her normally neat hair was mussed and hanging over her face.
“Please, David,” she cooed. “I forgive you for spying. I know that it’s just your age. I know you’re starting to get interested in women’s bodies. Now please, untie me and I promise to be nicer to you from now on.”
It was a tempting offer.
“Promise you won’t be mad with me?” I asked, suspiciously.
“Of course I won’t,” she cooed. I’d never seen her try and smile so much. I almost preferred her normal, frowning face.
So, not without difficulty, I untied her and she sat up, rubbing her wrists and ankles. She pulled her knees into her chest and sat gazing out of the window while I fetched her housecoat and put it round her.
“You must never tell Uncle Jack about this, or the other men,” she eventually said, in a kind of distracted way.
“I know,” I said.
“And I never want you to spy on me or mention this again,” she added.
This was too much. Once again she was trying to retreat into her adult world, excluding me.
“But I WANT to know!” I said.
She looked at me, coolly appraising me.
“Are you still a virgin?” she asked.
I nodded, blushing hotly.
“I thought so,” she said. This time she smiled a genuine smile; it was beautiful.
She leaned over to me and lowered her voice.
“Do you want me?” she asked, almost mischievously. “Your old auntie?”
“No, of course not!” I said immediately.
“Then why were you spying on me then?” she asked.
I could give no satisfactory answer. My face had gone red and I could no longer look at her.
“Look at me!” she commanded.
I looked up and she slipped off the housecoat and let down her legs, slowly, seductively. Her breasts came into view.
“Do you find me attractive?” she quizzed.
I nodded, miserably.
“Touch me then,” she said.
She lifted one of my hands and put it on her breast. It felt wonderfully warm and fleshy. I cupped it in ecstasy. As I felt it she spoke:
“Now David, listen. You may explore me, do what you like with me, but when you have finished that is the end. No more spying and we will never talk about this to ANYONE. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I agreed.
Satisfied, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes.
My cock went rigid again. Aunt Katherine, my mother’s older sister, was giving me what I had always desired - total and utter free access to a woman’s body, with no limits.
I touched, probed, felt and explored her. Aunt Katherine lay under my power. She offered no resistance, not even when I put my fingers into her sticky, wet vagina. The only time she made a move was when I touched her clit too roughly and she told me to be careful. I moved her arms, opened her legs wide and bent them up until curiosity drove me to touch her anus. I had seen the man fuck her there but never knew it could be used as a fuck hole. I had always assumed that the vagina was the only place for a man’s penis. Becoming bold I turned my aunt over, gently pulled apart her buttocks and looked at the tight brown hole, surrounded by wisps of black hair. The man’s cum was still oozing from it. I put the tip of one finger to the sticky entrance and felt my aunt wince. I was going to take my finger away, but then in a strange voice I heard her say, “Don’t stop...”
Given the encouragement, I explored her anus, first rubbing the tip of my finger around the rim, then pushing first one, then two fingers in. My aunt moaned softly, then taking my hand with hers, she started to push and pull my fingers in and out of her arsehole until I got the idea how to do it myself. I was pleasing her - like a man! I was proud of myself.
Eventually my aunt moaned, “David, use your cock!”
With no further encouragement required I pulled off my shorts as Aunt Katharine spread her legs to allow me good access. I pressed the tip of my cock (which was much smaller than the man’s had been) against the tight rim of her arsehole then thrust deep inside her. The pressure on my cock was tremendous, it felt wonderful. I started babbling incoherently. I think I told her that I loved her, would do anything for her, would die for her and when I stopped babbling I just licked and sucked her beautiful smelling neck. It didn’t take long for me to cum and I when I did it made me groan aloud.
I rolled off her, laughing.
Aunt Katharine looked surprised. “Why are you laughing?” she asked.
“Because I’m so happy!” I told her.
She seemed puzzled by the concept, then her face too broke into a radiant grin.
“Oh David, you’re so full of life - just like your mother.”
I smiled, pleased that I had finally made Aunt Katharine happy.
“I want to make you happy every day,” I said.
But then she frowned and her face returned to normal.
“That’s not possible David. You remember our bargain?”
I did, but I couldn’t believe after what had just happened that she wouldn’t want me again.
“Yes, but I thought...”
“No David - this was just this once. Never again.”
And with that she climbed off the bed and ignoring me started to get dressed.
But it didn’t last. Eventually, blackmailed my aunt and got to fuck every hole she had. She taught me about all aspects of sex including the mild BDSM that she engaged in.