Chapter 2

The pleasurable sensations that were being generated between Ronnie and Ellen let them both know they were nearing a climax.

Their bodies were trembling and sweating as he pushed his pulsating penis rapidly in and out of her snatch.

"Oh, honey," she panted, "you sure have a big one. You're even bigger than your uncle was."

"Didn't Uncle Duane have a dick this big?" he smiled proudly.

"He certainly didn't, darling," she said. "If he had had, we might still be together. You see, he couldn't satisfy me in bed."

"That's not the way my mother told it to me," he corrected her. "She said that you were a frigid gal and he was stepping out."

"Would you say I was frigid?" she asked as she seized his penis tighter in her cunt and massaged it vigorously.

"I'd say you were a ball of fire," he said. "You're a good fuck. I'm glad old Uncle Duane is gone."

She was delighted to see that he was enjoying himself. It was almost as if she was getting even with her husband, who felt she wasn't good enough.

Now he wanted to roll over.

"Let me get on top now," he said. "So I can finish it."

Clinging to his body, they rolled over on the sofa. Ronnie was on top, slamming into her. With hard, driving jabs, he continued slamming into her pussy.

"Fuck hard," she said. "All the way up there. I want to feel it, reaching way in me.

He pushed it farther, probing her insides.

"I've got it right up there, baby," he said. "It can't get much farther."

He was enjoying himself now, ramming away with final jabs.

"I'm cuming," he exclaimed. "I'm cuming!"

The hot juice flooded her vagina. She felt his orgasm, triggering her own. Seconds later she was juicing with him.

He loved to slip around inside her vagina, with the slippery juice helping.

Finally, he withdrew.

There was one thing she missed. There was little affection in him. He never bothered to kiss her once. All he wanted was to get his rocks off. However, she figured that before the summer was over, she would teach him a thing or two about emotion.

"Well, aren't you glad I went streaking through the house?" he chuckled.

Slapping his bare bottom, she nodded.

"Yes, lover," she said. "It sort of put us in the mood for sex."

"That's what they say at school."

"How many girls have you fucked at school?" she asked him.

"I'd just say enough," he said.

"Don't you know how many?" she asked.

"That's really personal," he exclaimed. "I wouldn't tell anybody about screwing you, Aunt Ellen, and I don't think it's good for me to t;ik about the chicks at school I fucked."

She had to agree that she wouldn't be happy if he did talk about their affair. Therefore, it was difficult for her to get angry at the thought of him not wanting to talk.

He told her he was starved, and she began slipping into her swimsuit.

"Why don't we just run around here naked?" he said. "I would like to look at you while you're fixing the food."

"Why, certainly, Ronnie," she said. "I just hope my ex-husband Duane doesn't pay me a visit."

"Well, pull the shades down and lock the doors," he said.

"You know, I'll have to get some new locks on the doors," she exclaimed, "because he can get in any time he wants to."

"Well, I don't want him bursting in on us," he said. "He might be one of those voyeurs who gets his kicks that way. That would be sick."

"You know an awful lot about sex, don't you?" Ellen asked him.

"Well, I've done some reading, he said, "and I guess I do know quite a bit about it."

"One thing for sure, honey," she said, "you know how to satisfy a woman."

Ronnie's eyes beamed with delight as she said this.

"Do you really think I know how?" he asked her eagerly.

"Certainly I do," she said. "You give a marvelous fuck. Why, if Duane had ever given me half as much satisfaction as you have given me this afternoon, I wouldn't have gotten rid of him."

It made him extremely happy and he wanted to know every detail of why he was so good at it.

"Why would you say I do it better than he did it?" he asked.

"For one thing, it's your size," she explained. "You have an enormous penis. How long does it measure?"

"I've been too busy fucking," he said, "to take time out to check how long it is."

"Well, it just goes to show," she said. "You were doing such a good job of it, that you didn't bother with details. But I'm curious to know just how long it is."

Ellen proceeded to get a tape measure.

She was curious to know how long his cock was.

Returning with the tape measure, she measured from the top side.

"You're not getting a good measurement that way," he warned her. "You should begin from the bottom side."

From underneath, she measured eight inches.

"Eight inches!" he smiled. "That's what I'd call a pretty good size cock, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," she said. "That is a very good size, I'll have to admit."

"I've got to hand it to you," he said. "You are not afraid to be yourself."

"What do you mean?" Ellen asked.

"Well, I'll tell you," Ronnie explained. "A lot of people want to fuck. But they're afraid to love."

"Maybe that's what was wrong with our marriage," she said. "I really did have a miserable time of it with Duane. Maybe I was afraid to make love to him."

As the young boy spread out, all sorts of strange ideas were whirling through her mind.

"Well, we could do anything we want to do," he told her.

"That sounds like fun," she admitted. "But the important thing is that your folks don't find out. You know what they would think of me, if they knew about us."

"Oh, my folks are real ancient," he said. "They think a guy has to be eighteen to smoke pot."

At this point, Ellen was frightened.

"You mean you're on dope at fifteen?" she demanded.

"Pot isn't much different from booze," he told her.

"That's what you think," she said. "It's a helluva lot different. I've heard plenty stories about people who got involved smoking pot. And I don't ever want to be involved with it."

"Maybe you're right," he said. "But I don't think it hurts to have a little pot now and then."

He stretched out on the sofa in a most comfortable position.

"Well, well," he said quietly. "I tell you, Ellen, if you would try a lot of different things, you could really enjoy yourself."

Raising a leg up on the sofa, she got a good view of his ass, his balls, and his huge cock. He reached down, and began gently stroking his ass-cheeks.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Ellen asked with a smile.

"You picked up my message," he grinned.

"What do you want?" she asked the young fifteen-year-old boy bluntly.

"I want you to suck my ass out," he said.

"Oh, Ronnie," she told him, "I've never done that before."

"There's nothing to it," he smiled. "But it does feel awfully good."

"Well, I suppose I could," she said nervously.

With his legs still spread out and one leg high on the back of the sofa, she had good access to him there.

"Just massage it a little," he said, "and play with the balls, pull on the prick, and then let your tongue lick around there. I don't know why, Aunt Ellen, but it really turns me on."

"Young man," she said, "if we're going to be lovers, there's something you've got to get straight right now."

As she sat on the edge of the sofa, he opened his eyes innocently and asked her what.

"Well, I will tell you what," she said, "I want you never to call me your aunt. I'm simply Ellen."

"All right, Ellen," he smiled, "I want you to eat my ass out."