I Fuck My Aunty
The afternoon sun beat down hard as I walked up to her front door, my cock already half-hard in my jeans just from knowing what was waiting inside. I knocked twice—our signal—and heard her soft footsteps approaching.
The door swung open, and there she was. Aunty. 35, with jet-black hair falling past her shoulders, those deep brown eyes that always looked at me like she was starving, and a body that had only gotten better with age. She was wearing a loose cotton kurta, no bra underneath—I could see her nipples poking through the thin fabric.
"Come in, come in," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside. She locked the door behind me, sliding the chain into place.
The house was empty. Her husband—my mom's brother—was at work. The kids were at school. We had four hours, maybe five.
"Drink?" she asked, already walking to the cabinet.
"Yeah," I said, settling onto the couch. "Whiskey. Neat."
She poured two glasses, brought them over, and sat beside me—close, thigh pressing against mine. The smell of her perfume mixed with the whiskey as we clinked glasses.
"Cheers," she said, her eyes locked on mine.
We drank. The first sip burned going down. She leaned back, crossing her legs, the kurta riding up just enough to show the curve of her thigh.
"So," she said, running a finger around the rim of her glass, "I've been thinking about you all week."
"Yeah? What have you been thinking?"
"Everything." She took another sip. "Last night I couldn't sleep. Just lay there, touching myself, thinking about what you do to me."
I felt my cock stiffen fully now, pressing against the zipper of my jeans. "Show me what you did."
She set down her glass and slid her hand under her kurta, between her legs. Her eyes never left mine as she pressed against herself through the fabric.
"Like this," she whispered. "Rubbing my clit, imagining it was your fingers. Your tongue."
I reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her hand away. "Let me do it properly."
I pushed her back onto the couch, her kurta riding up to her waist. She wasn't wearing panties. Her cunt was already wet, glistening in the afternoon light filtering through the curtains.
"Fuck," I breathed. "You're soaked."
"I told you," she gasped as I ran my fingers through her slit. "I've been waiting."
I didn't bother with slow. I shoved two fingers inside her, hard. She arched her back, letting out a sharp moan as her hips bucked against my hand.
"More," she begged. "Please."
I pulled my fingers out and brought them to her mouth. She opened wide, sucking them clean, tasting herself while her eyes stayed locked on mine.
"Get on your knees," I ordered.
She complied immediately, sliding off the couch onto the carpet. I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the zipper, and my cock sprang out, already rock hard and leaking precum. She didn't wait. She leaned forward, took the head in her mouth, and swallowed me down to the base in one motion.
"Fuck, aunty," I groaned, grabbing a handful of her hair.
She pulled back, gagging slightly, then took me again, deeper this time. Her tongue worked the underside of my shaft while her hand cupped my balls, squeezing gently. She set a rhythm—fast, desperate, like she couldn't get enough.
I let her suck me for a few minutes, feeling the pleasure building, before I pulled her off.
"Not yet," I said. "I want to fuck you first."
I pushed her onto her hands and knees on the couch. She knew exactly what position I wanted. She spread her knees wide, lowering her chest to the cushions, presenting her ass to me. Her cunt was dripping, swollen pink and ready.
"Please," she whimpered. "Fuck me. I need it."
I positioned myself behind her, grabbed her hips, and thrust in with one hard motion. She screamed—a raw, guttural sound that filled the empty house—as my cock buried itself inside her wet heat.
"Fuck, you're tight," I grunted, pulling back and slamming into her again.
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, fuck me. Harder."
I didn't hold back. I fucked her with brutal strokes, each thrust driving her forward into the couch cushions. Her moans turned into wordless cries as I pounded into her, my balls slapping against her clit with every movement.
"Look at you," I said, gripping her hips tighter. "Taking my cock like a good little slut."
"I am," she sobbed. "I'm your slut. Fuck me, baby. Fuck your aunty's cunt."
I reached around, found her clit, and rubbed it in circles while I kept fucking her. She came almost immediately—her body shuddering, her cunt clenching around my cock, a scream muffled by the cushion.
I didn't stop. I kept fucking her through her orgasm, chasing my own. When I felt the pressure building, I pulled out just in time, my cum shooting across her ass and lower back in thick ropes.
"You came on me," she whispered, still trembling.
"I always do," I said, catching my breath.
We took a break. Refilled our drinks. Sat naked on the couch, her head resting on my chest.
"Round two?" she asked, looking up at me with those hungry eyes.
"Not yet," I said, sipping my whiskey. "But we've got time."
She kissed my chest, my neck, working her way down. Her tongue traced a path along my stomach until she reached my cock, still semi-hard. She took me in her mouth again, sucking gently, coaxing me back to full hardness.
This time, I bent her over the arm of the couch. Doggy style again—I wanted to watch my cock slide into her, wanted to see her ass jiggle with every thrust. I entered her from behind, slower this time, building a rhythm that had her moaning with every stroke.
"Harder," she begged. "Please. Fuck me harder."
I grabbed her hips and obliged. I pounded into her with deep, punishing thrusts, her wetness making obscene squelching sounds with every stroke. She was so wet that my cock slipped out once, and she reached back, guiding me back in without missing a beat.
"I'm close," she gasped. "I'm gonna cum again."
"Cum on my cock," I ordered. "Cum for me."
She did. Her body convulsed, her cunt milking my shaft as she cried out. I followed moments later, pulling out and painting her ass with another thick load of cum.
By round three, we were both covered in sweat and cum. She was lying on her back on the carpet, legs spread wide, her pussy swollen and red from being fucked.
"One more," she said, her voice hoarse. "Give me one more."
I knelt between her legs. "You sure you can take it?"
"I need it," she said, reaching for my cock. "I need you to fill me up one more time."
I entered her again, missionary this time. Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper. We fucked slow at first, building intensity, her nails digging into my back.
"Cum inside me this time," she whispered in my ear.
"You know I can't. What if you get pregnant?"
"I want it," she said, her eyes wild. "I want to feel your cum deep inside me. Please."
I couldn't deny her. When I felt the climax building, I buried myself as deep as I could and let go, pumping load after load into her waiting cunt. She came with me, her body shuddering beneath mine, her legs tightening around me as if to trap my seed inside.
We lay there afterward, tangled together on the carpet, breathing hard. Her hand traced lazy patterns on my chest.
"That was... intense," she said softly.
"You wanted it."
"I always want it," she said, looking up at me. "I don't know what you do to me."
I kissed her forehead. "We've got an hour before the kids come home."
She smiled, reaching down to stroke my softening cock. "Maybe enough time for a shower. Together."
As I helped her up, I noticed the cum leaking from between her thighs, running down her leg. She caught me looking and just smiled.
"Next week," she said. "Same time. Same place."
"Wouldn't miss it."
Three weeks later, I got a text from her that made my blood run cold.
"We need to talk. Come over. Urgent."
I drove over immediately, my mind racing through every possibility. Had her husband found out? Had someone seen us? I knocked twice, and she opened the door, her face pale, her eyes red from crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping inside.
She didn't answer. Just walked to the couch and sat down, staring at her hands. I sat beside her, my heart pounding.
"Aunty. Talk to me."
She took a deep breath, then looked at me. "I'm pregnant."
The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.
"What?" I said, though I'd heard her perfectly.
"I'm pregnant," she repeated, her voice shaky. "I missed my period. I took a test this morning. Two tests. Both positive."
I stared at her. My mind went blank. Then, slowly, a strange feeling crept over me—not fear, not panic, but something else. Something primal.
"It's mine," I said. It wasn't a question.
"Of course it's yours," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I haven't touched my husband in months. We barely even share a bed anymore. This is yours. All yours."
I reached out and took her hand. She looked up at me, surprised.
"What are we going to do?" she whispered.
I didn't know what to say. But as I looked at her—at the woman I'd been fucking for four years, the woman who had just confirmed she was carrying my child—I felt my cock stir in my jeans.
"We'll figure it out," I said, surprising myself with how calm I sounded. "But right now... I need to be inside you."
"Are you serious?" she asked, her eyes wide. "I just told you I'm pregnant."
"I know," I said, pulling her closer. "And I want to fuck you more than ever. Knowing you're carrying my seed inside you... it's making me crazy."
She stared at me for a long moment, her breath coming in short gasps. Then her hand moved to my crotch, feeling my hard-on through my jeans.
"You're really not scared?" she asked.
"Maybe I should be," I said. "But right now, all I can think about is burying my cock in your pregnant cunt."
She laughed—a broken, hysterical laugh—and then she was kissing me, her tongue pushing into my mouth, her hands fumbling with my belt.
I laid her back on the couch and spread her legs. Her pussy was already wet, glistening under the light. I positioned myself between her thighs and pushed inside her in one smooth motion. She gasped, her hands gripping my shoulders.
"Fuck me," she whispered. "Fuck your baby's mother."
I did. I fucked her with slow, deep strokes, savoring every inch of her. Her body responded eagerly, her hips rising to meet each thrust, her moans filling the room.
"Cum inside me again," she begged, her voice thick with desire. "Fill me up. Give our baby more of your seed."
I couldn't hold back. With a guttural groan, I emptied myself into her, pumping load after load into her already fertile womb. She came with me, her body shuddering beneath mine, her cunt milking my cock dry.
Afterward, we lay together, her head on my chest, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I know one thing."
"What's that?"
"I'm glad it's yours."