Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
After I had finished my homework I came downstairs for dinner. It felt strange sitting at the table dressed in only in my apron and my cocquette. Aunty Jean was still dressed in her mauve satin blouse and white duchess satin classic-style, pencil skirt, flesh-toned sheer seamed stockings and white high-heeled court-shoes. She had refreshed her perfume before dinner and her scent was delicious.
My buttocks still stung a little and the cold vinyl of the dinning room chair against my buttocks did nothing to ease the pain. Aunty said very little during the meal and when we had finished eating she pointed at the dishes and pots and pans.
“Wash and dry this lot and then you may join me in the lounge for an hour’s TV,” she said.
I scrubbed the pots and pans and washed the tableware and carefully dried each item before returning them to their proper place in the cupboards and drawers. Throughout my chores I couldn’t get the mental picture out of my head of my Auntie sitting in the chair in her bedroom masturbating. I had to concentrate on the matters in hand to stop myself from becoming constantly hard.
I lifted my apron and saw that the end of my cocquette was damp with pre-seminal fluid; lucky for me the cocquette was doing its job and my apron was not stained.
I entered the lounge to find that Aunty Jean had turned out the lights; the room was lit only by the soft glow of the television, and Aunty Jean was sitting on the lounge having kicked off her high-heels; they lay on the floor beside the couch.
“Sit here!” she said, pointing to a spot on the floor directly in front of her.
“You can do a couple of chores whilst you watch television,” she said sternly.
I sat on the carpet facing the TV with my back to the couch.
“First; you can clean my shoes,” she said.
I made to rise and my Auntie reached out and clipped me across the ear.
“Where do you think you’re going you silly boy?” she asked.
“To get some shoe cleaning materials,” I answered shyly.
“You idiot; you have all the cleaning materials you need right here!” she spat.
I was dumbfounded! What could she mean? All I had was my apron and I’m sure she would not let me clean her shoes with that! I thought about it for a few seconds as my Auntie looked me with a quizzical look on her face. Then it dawned on me; and as my face set in consternation she smiled.
I picked up one of her white courts and bought it to my face. The smell of my Auntie’s feet and perfume assaulted my nose and my cock jumped under my apron. I tentatively stuck out my tongue and licked at the shiny white leather on the top of the shoe.
“Well maybe you aren’t such an idiot after all,” she said disdainfully and turned her face back towards the TV.
“Don’t look at me; watch the TV while you clean my shoes!” Aunty punctuated her statement with another clip across my ear.
I watched the television as I licked and slathered at her high-heels, completely cleaning one and then the other. Her shoes tasted of leather, foot-odour, and a hint of her perfume; the taste was not totally repugnant. When I had finished Aunty Jean picked up her shoes and inspected them.
“Not bad for a first effort,” she said.
“Now lean back a little and keep still while I use you as a pouf for my feet,” she ordered.
I sat cross legged on the floor, straightened my back and then leaned back slightly. Auntie lifted her feet and placed her ankles on my shoulders, using me as a foot rest. The smell of her feet was quite pungent and the feel of stocking-clad ankles on my shoulders was very sensual. She moved her feet around a little until she was comfortable, which had the effect of producing a raging erection under my apron. I was glad that the room was dark.
We sat like that in silence for about fifteen minutes watching the television; Aunty occasionally adjusting the position of her legs. It was impossible for me to concentrate on the TV and I’m sure Aunty must have been aware of my discomfort. My apron was tented and I could feel my secretions leaking into my cocquette. The smell of Auntie’s sweaty feet mixed with her perfume was overlaid with a scintilla of some other musky aroma. I had smelt that aroma before on her panties when I had stolen them to masturbate with.
It was the smell of her vagina; the smell remained impregnated in her panties after she had masturbated in her bedroom and was wafting out from under her skirt. My cock was now throbbing and I was aching to take it in hand and bring myself to climax. I sneaked one of my hands under my apron, safe in the knowledge that Auntie couldn’t see what I was doing with my back to her in the darkened room.
I slid my fingers along my cocquette-covered penis and shivered with excitement. I breathed in the scent of Auntie’s feet, perfume and vagina and revelled in the sensuous feel of her nylons on my bare skin. I began to slowly stroke my cock and my mind disappeared into a reverie of delight until suddenly Auntie screamed.
“What the hell do you think you are poker oyna doing!!!” she scalded.
I jerked out of my reverie and whipped my hand out from under my apron. I turned my head to see my Auntie’s beautiful face distorted with anger.
“I have made it quite clear that you may only pleasure yourself when I give you my permission! One again you have disobeyed me!”
I lowered my head in shame as Aunty removed her feet from my body and stood up, raising herself to her full height. From where I was sitting on the floor I would see her voluptuous body silhouetted by the light of the television. Her pencil skirt hugged her waist and thighs and the flesh-toned stockings encasing her lovely legs glowed luminously in the dark room.
“Get on your hands and knees you naughty boy and prepare to receive your punishment,” Aunty growled.
I did as I was told.
“Crawl over here!”
I crawled towards her until I was at her feet on my hands and knees.
Aunty reached down and picked up the bamboo cane, which she must have had lying beside her on the couch. I tensed in anticipation of the punishment that I was about to receive.
“This is for disobeying me yet again,” she said as the cane whistled through the air.
The biting sting of the bamboo against my bare buttocks bought tears to my eyes. My bottom burned with searing pain. I had just recovered from the shock of the first stroke when I heard the foreboding whine of the bamboo cane before it walloped again on my tender rump. I knew that pleading or crying out would only further incense my Aunty so I screwed my eyes closed, clamped my lips shut and took my beating.
Aunty meted out six good strokes of the cane and when she was finished my buttocks burned with renewed agony. Tears ran down my reddened cheeks and splashed on the floor. My erection had deflated and any feelings of sexual arousal I had was replaced by shame and misery.
I lay prone on the floor whimpering at my Auntie’s feet.
“Now; clean my feet!”
I put out my tongue and hesitantly licked at my Auntie’s toes. The reinforced toe of her stocking was pungent with her foot odour. The taste was not disagreeable, rather a sweet musky smell; a combination of sweat, leather and perfume. Her stocking felt slippery against my tongue and I could discern the shape of her toes as I licked and slavered at her nylon-encased digits. Incredibly the burning pain in my buttocks did not prevent me from becoming aroused yet again.
I heard Aunty gasp, and then she lifted her foot off the floor and rubbed it over my face. The feel of her nyloned foot on my face was exquisite and I lapped at it, running my tongue over the top of her foot and then her sole; finally licking the valley between her sole and her toes. My penis was rock hard under my apron and aching for release.
I licked at my Auntie’s foot until I had cleaned it to her satisfaction and then she lowered it and bought her other foot up to my face for me to service.
Auntie’s breathing was slow and deep and I could hear her panting over the background noise of the television. I cleaned her other foot, this time paying special attention to each of her toes, sucking on each digit until I had sopped up all traces of her foot odour. This part of my punishment was actually a treat for all of my senses.
The smell of her feet mingled with the scent of her perfume and the faint bouquet of vaginal secretions that wafted down from under the hem of her skirt. The tang of foot odour combined with the fresh zest of her nylons tasted delightful and the shape of her elegant feet and her cute little toes, the red nails glimmering through the reinforced toe of her stockings, was a spectacle for my eyes.
I cautiously licked along the back of her heel, relishing the feel of her foot against my cheek, and then licked further up her foot until my tongue was nuzzling her ankle. Auntie’s breathing began to become heavier and she reached down and firmly wrapped her fingers in my hair.
I though she was going to push me away for being so audacious but she didn’t. Instead she spun around on her stocking feet and directed my face to the back of her leg. I licked the Cuban heel of her stocking and began to slowly follow the line of the back-seam with my tongue.
Aunty shuddered and let go of my hair as soon as she was satisfied that I knew my task. As I slowly ran my tongue up the back of her leg the scent of perfume and sex intensified. I licked up her calf and spent some time caressing the back of her knee with my tongue. I traced the little wrinkles in the sheer nylon with my tongue and kissed her soft warm skin, my bottom still stinging from my punishment.
Aunty Jean was now purring like a contented cat and as I wondered how far she was going to allow me to proceed, she answered me by opening her stance as much as the tight pencil skirt would allow. My neck was now being tickled by the hem of her skirt and my cock was throbbing. I moved my face further up her leg and my head began to disappear under her skirt.
The canlı poker oyna bouquet of sex and perfume was very strong as my tongue followed the slightly coarse back-seam of her stocking. It was dark under the hem of her skirt but I could still make out the curve of her thigh and the shadow-welt near the top of her stocking. I could discern the darker ring of nylon indicating the start of the welt attached to the garter snaps, which glittered whenever the illumination of the television penetrated the darkness under her skirt.
I was in a fugue of sexual excitement as my all of my senses were assaulted and I knew that my cocquette must be soaked with pre-seminal fluid. As I attempted to move may face further up my Auntie’s leg she stopped me just as my tongue caressed the shadow welt of her stocking. She bent slightly and pushed my face down towards her other ankle.
I understood her intent and began the slow sensuous journey up her other leg from her ankle to the welt of her stocking. Auntie was now shuddering and whimpering; making no attempt to disguise the pleasure she was receiving from my ministrations.
When my face was level with the tops of her stockings, her skirt was stretched to its full extent and I could proceed no further unless she removed her skirt or raised the hem. I worshipped the welts of her stocking with my lips and tongue, not sure how to proceed.
Aunty resolved the situation by bending over until her knees came to rest on the edge of the couch. She scrunched forward and kneeled on the couch; her voluptuous bottom rose up in the air. I scooted forward on my knees keeping my head under her skirt and my lips secured to her thighs.
The hem of her skirt rose up her legs exposing her stocking tops and the tops of her milky white thighs above the welts. I licked and kissed the welts, exploring the clasps of her garter-snaps with my tongue and she began to whimper with pleasure.
She reached behind and took her skirt in both of her hands and slowly raised the hem up her thighs and over her ample bottom exposing her full-cut red satin panties; the material straining against the swell of her buttocks. My penis trembled as Auntie reached back and with one plum-red fingernail pointed to the crease between her buttocks.
“Here!” she moaned.
I caressed the back of her thighs with my cheek, delighting in the change of texture from sheer nylon to soft creamy skin and my lips and tongue traced the very top of her stockings and then licked the velvety white skin at the top of her thighs. I continued on until my tongue encountered the lace on the leg of her satin panties. The rough texture of the lace was replaced by the cool slick satin panty material and I pressed my face into the crevice between my Auntie’s buttocks and inhaled deeply.
The scent of her sex was almost overpowering and I moaned in concert with my Aunt as I worshipped her buttocks with my face, tongue and lips. I dared to reach up and hold her thighs in my hands so that I could push my face against the soft pillows of her buttocks as my tongue explored the dark valley of her bottom. Aunty Jean indicated her consent by thrusting herself back against my face.
I buried my tongue in the crease of her bottom and licked at her puckered sphincter through the soft satin panty. The smell of vaginal juices invaded my nostrils whilst the sweet tang of her anus tantalised my taste buds. The searing pain in my buttocks waned to a warm glow.
I explored my Aunt’s anal cleft with the tip of my tongue and dared to remove one hand from her thigh and hook my fingers under the leg of her panty. Receiving no rebuke, I pulled the satin panty across her buttock until her puckered sphincter was exposed.
Aunty again reached back with her plum-red fingernail and pointed to the wrinkled opening of her anus.
“Clean it!” she ordered, and I obediently licked at the puckered flesh.
Aunty Jean wriggled in delight as I lapped at her dark hole; the tiniest scintilla faecal matter mingled with the taste of her sweat and perfume. I ran my tongue up and down the crease of her bottom; stopping to explore her anus with tip of my tongue occasionally, as my Auntie kneeled on the couch quivering with excitement.
My own buttocks glowed and my penis throbbed inside my cocquette as my own excitement mounted. I yearned to take myself in hand; one or two strokes would bring release, but I dared not.
Suddenly, Aunty Jean reached around and pushed my face away for her bottom. I was bitterly disappointed; but not for long. She spun around so that she was sitting on the lounge; her skirt hiked up to her waist; her black garter-belt and red satin panties fully exposed. I marvelled at the spectacle before me; my Aunt’s suspender straps contrasted with the skin of her creamy thighs and the silver clips glittered where they connected to the dark welts of her stockings.
Aunty Jean threw back her head and pointed a painted fingernail at the gusset of her panties. Her pubic mound stretched the satin panty so tight internet casino that I could see the silhouette of her labia. A small wet patch was evident on the material covering her sex and the pungent odour of vaginal secretions filled the room.
“Now here; if you do a good enough job, I might grant you release!” Auntie whimpered.
I couldn’t believe that I was finally going to touch the object of my heart’s desire; but before I could reflect any further on the matter, Aunty Jean took my head in her hands and, spreading her legs wide, pulled my face down into her crotch.
The sensations I experienced as my nose disappeared in the soft fabric of her panty panel and my lips crushed against her satin-clad vulva were indescribable. I thought I would climax as my penis became so hard that it was painful.
I ran my tongue along the ridges of my Auntie’s vulva, tracing the outline of her labia as she shuddered and her juices flowed, soaking the panty gusset. I sucked up the delightful nectar; tasting my Aunty for the first time. Her fresh juice was sweeter than the musk that I had licked from her panties when I had masturbated with them, and I lapped at the tight gusset of her panties with renewed enthusiasm.
“Awwww!!!!” she moaned, and impatiently pushed my head away from her crotch.
She slid a finger under the gusset and pulled the material to one side exposing her wet pink labia, which opened like an exotic flower before me. Her juices glistened on the lips of her sex and small beads glistened on her pubic hair.
I lowered my face and drank in the sweet syrup as my Auntie’s other hand grasped my head and pushed my face hard against her sex.
Aunty Jean wriggled and bucked on the lounge, holding her panties aside with one hand whilst the other pressed my face to her. She lifted her buttocks up off the lounge and lunged her hips forward in rhythm with my tongue. For the first time in my life I was touching a lady’s sex organs and the experience was sublime. My cock was dribbling a constant stream of pre-seminal fluid and I could feel it dribbling from the end of my cocquette, soaking into my apron and dripping on my thighs. I knew that this would probably result in more punishment but I was past caring.
My tongue found the hard nubbin of my Auntie’s clitoris and she quivered in a paroxysm of pleasure. I suckled the tiny pink organ and my Aunt reacted by lifting her legs up over my shoulders and wrapped them around my back, pulling my face hard against her sex. Her legs drummed on my back and her nylons whispered as the diaphanous material chafed against my bare skin.
“Oh God! I’m coming!” Auntie screamed into the darkened room; any imperative to blasphemy forgotten in the throes of lust.
I lapped and suckled at my Aunt’s sex, alternatively stimulating her clitoris and licking her labia.
“There! There! There!” she commanded, and pushed her crotch hard into my face, directing my attention to her swollen clitty.
I sucked, licked and nibbled Auntie Jean’s clitoris as her orgasm built and then erupted. She took my head in both of her hands and crushed my face against her vulva as she shuddered and screamed as her orgasm washed over her. She locked her legs around my body and pulled me harder against her. I thought I might suffocate but I didn’t stop attending to her; I licked, suckled and caressed her sex throughout the throes of her climax.
At the peak of her orgasm she drummed her feet against my back and screamed out obscenities into the darkened room as she rode my face to the pinnacle of her pleasure. She slowly descended from the zenith of her orgasm and released her hold on my head. Her legs unlocked but remained draped over my shoulders and I began to moderate the attention I was paying to her with my mouth until she eventually reached down and pushed my face away from her crotch and distractedly pulled the soaking gusset of her panties back into place over her pubis.
She lifted her legs off my shoulders and put her feet on my chest and pushed my body away from hers. She lifted her buttocks up off the couch and pulled down her wrinkled skirt, smoothing the hem around her thighs.
Her breathing, which had been hard and erratic, was returning to normal. She looked at me, her makeup smeared and her pretty face aglow with post-coital flush framed by her black bob, which had become mussed; her fringe was damp with perspiration.
“I suppose you may be good for something after all,” she said sarcastically.
“And now I suppose you want some sort of reward,” she sneered, as she looked at the tent in the front of my apron.
I didn’t respond; but she could see the supplication on my face.
“Ok; I suppose so. You’re going to have to wash my clothes tonight anyway,” she said resignedly.
Without any further indication she reached out with her foot and lifted my apron and exposed my cocquette-clad erection.
“You may take off your cocquette,” she said, and I quickly complied.
She placed one of her stocking-sheathed feet under the base of my penis, tickling my scrotal sac with her toes. I groaned as my scrotum constricted; a prelude to climax. She placed the sole of her other foot on top of my penis and pressed down, effectively milking me of my seed.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32