Bad Aunt 1

This happened about 10 years ago and I thought it was time to share it.  It may not put me in the best light, but I hope the reader understands.

      I was the youngest of three siblings, with my older brother and sister 10 and 12 years older than me.  My brother married a single mom, Sarah and gladly welcomed her 8-year-old son Kyle.  They lived in Texas while I stayed in the northeast.  Tom and Sarah never had children of their own.  As life went on I saw them less and less.  Just before the events of 10 years ago, I travelled to Dallas and visited my brother.  I was shocked to see his physical deterioration, as both he and his wife had grown morbidly obese, using scooters and the like to even go to the store.  I didn't see Kyle.

      A few months later I got a call from my brother.  Apparently Kyle was interested in visiting colleges in the southeast, and neither my brother nor sister-in-law were physically capable of travelling. My brother asked me if I would consider taking Kyle for college visits.  I never had any children, thought it would be fun, and immediately agreed.  A few weeks later I found myself flying into Atlanta to meet Kyle for the fist time in years.  He'd already been accepted to a number of colleges and universities and apparently wanted to decide on a school before the deadline.  I knew he arrived at the airport before me and would be meeting me at the gate when I disembarked.  As soon as I walked off the jetway, I saw him.  I was a bit shocked.  I remembered a little boy; the person greeting me was a young man, muscular and toned from sports, and well over six feet tall.  Over the next few hours, through getting our rental car, driving to Athens, the campus tour, and going to our hotel, I realized a few things.  Kyle was shy and insecure, very quiet, while being extremely attractive.  

     That night I wore practical pajamas and crawled into one hotel bed while he crawled into the other.  I couldn't help but notice his muscles and tanned skin.  For some reason, I was acutely aware of the fact that I had a highly attractive man in a room with me, although the man was less than half my age.  For some reason, I also pondered my situation.  My husband died four years earlier after a five-year battle with cancer.  I'd been on a few dates since then but literally hadn't had sex in years.  My companionship was basically my handy clit vibrator a few times a week.  I had packed it, but obviously wasn't going to be whipping it out for a three-minute session with my nephew in the room.  Though I felt like I could really use a good orgasm.

     The next morning I was up early and worked out downstairs.  When I came up, Kyle was still asleep, so I went in to take a shower.   It was one of those oversized hotel bathrooms, separated from the room with a barn-door type slider.  The shower was huge, with clear glass panels.  I quickly stripped down and hopped in the shower.  I washed and conditioned my hair, shaved my legs, and generally enjoyed a long shower, knowing I wasn't having to pay the water bill.

     I shut off the water and got out of the shower, doing the head towel wrap as I headed toward the mirror.  I remember thinking I still looked good for 40.  A few extra pounds, but I'd always had the good fortune to carry extra weight in my boobs and butt.  I rode horses a few days a week, so my thighs and ass were toned and tight.  I was a solid C cup, with what my husband used to call "sweet ass pie nips"; large pale areolas with tiny nipples. I always had to be careful with two-piece tops, or the pink of the areolas might creep out if there wasn't enough coverage.

     When I got to the sink, I glanced to my left and saw the slider wasn't closed all the way.  I remember thinking it was odd, since I'd been careful to close it softly, not wanting to wake Kyle by banging it.  Looking down, I saw that one of the workout shoes I'd taken off was now wedged between the door and the jam.  At that point I realized the door had been opened while I was in the shower.  And there was only one person who could have done it.  I dried my hair, did my makeup, and got dressed, thinking it.  Oddly, I wasn't bothered.  By the time I was done I was almost smiling to myself, thinking about a teenage boy wanting an eyeful.  Not that big of a surprise I guess.

      When I finally walked out, Kyle was sitting on the edge of his bed.  He said hello, grabbed some clothes, headed into the bathroom, and slid the door shut. I heard the shower go on.  As I zipped up my suitcase and started to wheel it over near the entry, the smell hit me: cum.  I could smell the distinct smell of cum.  I lifted up the covers on Kyle's bed.  The sheets glistened with wet spots and the odor was stronger.  I pulled the covers back the way I found them.  I felt a weird sense of nervousness and arousal.  Not only had he peeped on me in the shower, it wasn't just for a glimpse of a naked woman.  He'd come back to bed after looking at me and jerked off, spurting cum everywhere.  There were a lot of emotions.

      But it triggered one of my fantasies from when I was young.  As I went through puberty and for well into my college years, one of my favorite daydreams was performing a striptease for a group of men.  In my favorite, there was always a group of well-dressed men watching me as I slowly and seductively took my clothes off.  They'd watch me, squirming in their seats, getting hard just by watching my body.  I'd dance and seductively roll and thrust my naked pelvis in the air, while their eyes devoured me.  I didn't actually visualize them masturbating, or even disrobing. In my fantasy, I guess they went home and took care of business. But honestly, I repeatedly got myself off with that scenario over the years.  I'd even occasionally acted out the slow undressing as part of my ritual, which would culminate in my rubbing my clit until I came (when I was younger) or carefully pressing the lubricated clit vibrator in just the right spots (for the past few years). As I replayed it, I felt myself becoming aroused, my nipples tightening and a tingling in my pussy.  I shook my head and put the thoughts out of my mind.

     We drove a lot that day, looked at more campuses, ending up in a hotel again.  When I went in to use the bathroom, I noticed a few things.  This room didn't have a slider between the bathroom and the room.  But the way the door opened meant that with the door even partially open, anyone standing at a certain spot in the room could look at the mirror over the sink and see a direct reflection of anyone using the shower-again the clear glass shower enclosure.  Over dinner we talked about the campuses; meanwhile, I kept thinking "he saw me naked this morning and jacked off thinking about it."

I had one margarita, then a second. I felt relaxed. And a plan started to come together, though I couldn't believe I was considering it.  I told Kyle about how I was basically blind without my contacts and couldn't wait to get them out because of dry eyes.  I told him how I couldn't see anything without them.  When we finally got back to the room, I made a show of putting my prescription glasses on my nightstand - because "I would have to feel around" to find them "after I get out of the shower."  Then I got my pjs and toiletries and went in the bathroom.  Leaving the door wide open, I made a production of looking like I took my contact lenses out, announcing how good it felt to "get those things out of my eyes." then I pushed the door almost shut, leaving a small opening. I went over near the shower and slowly took my shoes and socks off.  I saw the door open a bit, and could see a shadow in the dark room outside. I couldn't believe what I was about to do.

     I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, a practical sporty button-down, facing the mirror. Eventually it was open to my waist, and my bra was clearly visible; then I let the shirt slide to the ground.  I turned around with my ass to the mirror and slid both my shorts and panties over my ass, letting them drop to the ground.  Then I turned back to face the mirror.  I reached down between my legs and gently slid my hand up, cradling my pussy lips between my fingers.  While I kept myself well-groomed and bikini-ready, I was by no means bare, and I could feel the crinkly dark hair as I slid my hand up.  Then I reached up and unclasped my bra. At that point, I realized I was almost quivering with excitement.  Staring straight ahead at myself in the mirror, I pretended to ignore Kyle's figure outside as he watched me. I wondered what he was doing. Was he hard? Was he squeezing himself through his shorts? or did he have a hard dick out, stroking it as he watched me?  I lifted the bottom of the cups outward, letting my boobs fall out the bottom of the bra before I let it drop to the floor.  There I was, fully naked, looking at myself in the mirror.  I could easily see my little nips were rock-hard.  Then I slowly walked forward to the counter. I watched the shadow draw back from the door, and I pulled the little vibrator out of my toiletry case, palming it so it wasn't obvious. 

     For some reason, I decided to turn sideways to the mirror, then bring a hand up to cradle my left boob, as though I was sizing myself up.  I arched my back, brushed my thumb over the nipple, then headed into the shower. I then set to work on the slowest, most thorough, wash in history.  At the same time, I surreptitiously kept watching the door.  I watched it slowly open wider. Now the light reflecting from the bathroom mirror was lighting the hallway, and for the first time, I could clearly see Kyle reflected in the mirror.  I was glad I'd remembered to turn the bathroom fan on so it wouldn't fog up much.

     He was completely naked from what I could see through the reflected now foot-wide opening.  I clearly saw his hard dick jutting out as he slowly stroked it, staring in the mirror.  I felt my knees go weak, and kept reminding myself to pretend I couldn't see a thing.  As I washed my boobs, my ass, and my pussy, consciously displaying my body, turning this way and that, I was getting so turned on.  I saw his arm come into view briefly, grab a hand towel from the bathroom vanity, and withdraw from the bathroom.  I remember puzzling about it momentarily, then realizing he was probably going to use it to catch the cum that would spurt out of that hard cock, pumping out as he looked at me.  I couldn't take it anymore.

     Continuing the face the mirror while I stood in the shower, I turned on the vibrator and held it against me, just above my clit.  I almost instantly felt a warming sensation in my pussy, a tensing.  I reached up with my left hand, gently squeezing my right nipple, feeling it rack hard, as I felt my orgasm building.  I could see Kyle clearly stroking, straining his head forward toward the opening, trying to get a better look.  And then my orgasm hit. I tried to stay quiet as each contraction hit; it was the best orgasm I'd had in years.  I remember hoping that Kyle was erupting, unloading spurts into that towel from his hard cock as he watched me.  There was no way to tell.

     A few moments later I rinsed off the vibe and turned off the shower. The bathroom doorway was closed.  I got out, got into my pjs, and walked out. Kyle looked asleep, but I was sure he was faking it.  I could smell cum in the air again, and in the corner by his suitcase, I could see a crumpled hand towel on the floor.

The trip had four more days to go.