I’m a guy, which means that I’m horny and been horny for as long as I can remember. The idea of saying no to sex, regardless of who it was going to be with, is completely foreign to me. Around the age of fourteen I started masturbating, but my maturbation career didn’t last too long, as soon enough I was lucky to move on to my fucking career. All thanks to my aunt Michelle.
One evening after dinner when I was fifteen and still living at home I was passing the time by playing with myself as usual. At the time I was unfortunate enough to have the one and only bedroom on the first floor, right next the kitchen. My mother was never much of a cook but she was certainly a neat freak, so it was never easy for me to lose myself while I played with my incredibly hard cock considering how much time she spent in the kitchen. Back then I had no frame of reference for what it would be like to actually get laid, so god only knows what I fantasized about while I stroked myself silly.
I had been sliding my hand up and down my pretty dick for a good half an hour and my cum had just started to shoot onto my hairless chest when my mother barged in my room and got an eye full of my engorged cock and hot liquid. The last of my cum was still oozing from the tip of my penis when I quickly sat up and turned to look at her, wishing someday she might have enough respect for me to actually knock on the door.
A man I was seeing told this story to me several years ago. He had asked me to tell him, “Shoot your hot fuck cum in your Aunt Marie darling!” when he was cumming. Needless to say, I found a way to get the story from him. (Grin) I’ll tell the story in his words.
When I was 3 years old my parents divorced and my mother and I went to live with my Mom’s mother. By the time I was 5, Mom had found a man to her liking and married him. I remained with my Grandmother and although I don’t recall resenting my Mother or stepfather, I suppose I used the anger and resentment at being abandoned I must have felt to turn myself into a bully.
I had finally managed to be promoted to the 8th grade and had gained a reputation as a fighter of some infamy, I had visions in those days of becoming a professional fighter as soon as I grew old enough to leave home and pursue the career. Needless to say, no matter how strong and tough you are, even if you’re 10 foot tall and bullet proof, someone will come along to give you an attitude adjustment.
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.