Chapter 9
Vikki wasn't exactly certain what the next step of her plan would be when she left Elgin Stafford's office-suite, but she knew, intuitively, that Carol would be the easiest of the two to handle. After all, she reasoned, five years without a man is too long, even for a "dowager" like my sister! It was obvious to her, then, that she would have to continue with her "tutelage" of her young nephew is she was going to pull it off. And, to that end, she'd stopped off at a kinky little lingerie store on the way home called, Miss Magic's.
Now safely back in her apartment, Vikki kicked off her pumps, tossed the package containing her purchases onto a vacant chair, then moved quickly to the kitchen to fix herself a martini. It was just a little past four, so it would be awhile before Grant returned from his sightseeing tour of the World Trade Center with Angel; plenty of time for her to try on her new outfit.
Moving back to the living room with the trenchant liquor firmly in hand, she glanced at the chair that contained the simple box whose innocent appearance gave no hint as to what was inside. Idly, she meandered over to it, scooped it up in her free hand and spun off in the direction of the bedroom. If this doesn't get Grant's motor moving, she thought, nothing will!
Once inside, she plumped herself and the box down on the edge of the bed, then set her martini on the night stand. It only took a moment for her to remove the binding ribbon and lift the lid off the box, exposing the lacy black undergarments nestled in the contrasting white tissue paper. One by one, the young aunt removed the garments, examining them closely as she laid them out on the bed. Then, unprompted, she crossed to the full-length mirror that dominated a section of the wall next to the door at one end of the room. Slowly, she executed a graceful pirouette, twisting her head so that she could see herself fully as she turned. "Hmmm," she observed. "Not bad for an 'old lady' of twenty-seven!"
Turning from the mirror, she walked to the overstuffed velvet chair that flanked the big round bed and began to remove her clothing, folding each item carefully and piling them neatly on the seat. Then moving to the bed once more, she leaned down and picked up the black lace cut-out bra, slipping her arms through its thin black straps and situating the cups over the voluptuous fullness of her breasts, then reached behind her to hook the tiny silver clasps. Next, she put on the crotchless matching panties, added the garter belt and hose, and spun around to admire her reflection in the mirror.
"Oh God, 'Miss Magic'," she smiled smugly, "you're the foxiest bitch in Fun City!" Still, something was missing ... something to make her look even bitchier yet.
Hurrying over to the closet, Vikki rummaged around on the top shelf and finally unearthed a white shoe box that contained the sexiest shoes in her collection. A gift from a wealthy "client," she'd never even had the guts to wear them ... until now. They looked like something out of Bondage Illustrated or something, with eight-inch heels and "vampish" block soles ala Cher. Quickly now, she sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped them onto her narrow feet, fastening the delicate buckled straps at the points just above her ankle bones. There! she smiled indecently. Now, let's see how they work!
Like a child on stilts for the first time, Vikki teetered precariously on the eight-inch heels as she walked from one end of the room to the other, her mincing unbalanced steps causing the muscles of her legs and buttocks to flex provocatively in time to the gentle swaying of her melonous strawberry-nippled breasts. Satisfied with the reflection in the mirror, she turned towards the dresser and began to rifle the top drawer for the hot pants and sweater combination that was to complete her bizarre ensemble ...
It was a little past six when Angel and Grant parted company in front of the apartment complex, with Angel taking the cab on to an "appointment" in the lower Seventies. Grant was a little disappointed since it had been such a fun day, and he'd really been looking forward to capping it off with a hot fuck. But then, he reasoned, Aunt Vikki would more than likely be willing to indulge him in that respect if it got right down to the nittus grittus; and it was with that thought in mind that he insinuated his key in the lock and turned it.
"Grant honey, is that you?" Vikki's voice rang out from the direction of the kitchen.
"Yeah, Aunt Vikki, it's me ... Where are you?"
"I'm in the kitchen fixing supper, darling. Is Angel with you?"
Grant hung up his coat in the hall closet then turned in the direction of the kitchen. "She had an appointment with somebody named Garfield or something," he explained. "What's cookin'?"
Vikki turned to face the handsome head that had just appeared in the doorway. "I thought maybe some sloppy joes would taste good tonight, honey ... Is something wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost!"
Grant felt his strong young cock spring rapidly to attention in a series of sharp jerks. "H-Holy cow, Aunt Vikki," he blustered, "where'd you get that outfit!"
"You like it, honey?"
Grant was certain his cock was going to break in half now. "I-I've never seen anything like it!"
"The shoes are a trifle high, don't you think? ... And maybe the shorts a tad too tight?"
"Uh-uh!" he insisted. "It's groovy!"
"Groovy?" she laughed. "Now there's a hot one! ... I thought it was on the sexy side."
"Oh, it is, Aunt Vikki!" he assured her. "Look!"
With "look," he gestured forward from the waist, the prominent bulge in his trousers immediately catching his young aunt's attention.
"Oh, my!" she mocked. "Did I do that?"
In response, the young nephew closed the short gap that separated them, from the place where he stood at the door to the place where his mother's baby sister stood in front of the stove, in a few long strides. He took her forcefully in his arms and kissed her lewdly, his cock grinding into the softness of her abdomen through the material of their clothing.
In the bizarre footwear, Vikki was actually an inch or two taller than her nephew, and it felt strange to her that she had to crane down slightly to kiss him. Still, the diamond-like hardness of the bulge pressing into her lower stomach more than compensated for any stature discrepancies. She ground back against him with a fury to match his own, her pointed tongue stabbing snake-like into his open mouth.
"Oh, jeez, Aunt Vikki," he breathed at last, breaking the kiss, "let's go in the bedroom and screw!"
The temptation to say "yes" proved nearly overwhelming to the young aunt, but she steeled herself for the task that lay ahead; she was determined now to play out her hand completely, to bring her handsome young nephew to such a pitch of fevered excitement that he would be amenable to any suggestion she might make. "Grant, darling, let's go into the living room ... I have a special treat for you." Her voice was fraught with lewd promise.
"W-What kind of 'treat,' Aunt Vikki?" he blinked nervously.
"If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" she teased. Then, seeing the hurt expression in his eyes, "I thought I'd do a little strip for you first, darling ... Would you like that?"
Grant swallowed tightly, his head bobbing up and down in the affirmative.
"Good, baby. Now, let's go see what happens, okay?"
Obediently, Grant followed Vikki into the living room and made himself comfortable on the couch while she went to the stereo to put a record on. He could hardly believe what was happening; it all seemed unreal, like something out of a fanciful dream.
"Kick your shoes off and get cozy, darling," his beautiful red-haired aunt suggested. "The show's about to begin!"
From one end of the room to the other she walked, in time to the lilting jazz instrumental that had just begun to drift over the intricate speaker system. As she pranced back and forth to the music, she began to see herself strutting along on a stage, not just for Grant, but for a lot of men ... crude, raucous men like Richard Garfield. God, that would be so exciting!
Naturally, almost nonchalantly, she reached up to the front of her sweater and slowly began to undo the row of tiny pearl buttons that held the cashmere material so tightly stretched over the melonous orbs of her breasts. Then, facing her young nephew as she reached the last button in the row, she bent forward slightly from the waist so that her pushed-out breasts, their nipples lewdly swollen and exposed through the slitted openings, seemed to "leap" out at him.
Grant emitted an audible gasp as her breasts came into view with the shedding of the sweater, scarcely noticing that she had let the expensive garment fall to the floor at her feet as if it were a worthless rag. He watched her straighten then, turning her back to him and bending once again from the waist as if flaunting her backside so deliciously outlined in the skin-tight hot pants. Then, slowly, she unfastened the silver zipper at the side and drew it reluctantly downwards, wriggling her hips slightly so that the hot pants began to shift and droop as if ready to join the sweater already on the floor. Sweet fucking God! the teenager's mind fused hotly. Even Penthouse doesn't have shots that good!
Satisfied to let the little hot pants hang there for the moment, Vikki turned to face her "audience" once again, smiling provocatively as she submitted to her nephew's inspection. Teasingly, she drew her graceful arms behind her back, causing the passion-stiffened tips of her nipples to perk still more prominently through the openings of the black nylon bra. They were big, but perfect, she knew, and she reveled in the undisguised delight that flickered like twin fires in her nephew's eyes as he stared at them. The aureoles themselves were fully the size and shape of sun-ripened strawberries, but more pinkish-beige in color than the fruit they so closely resembled. The distended nipples, swollen now to the point of near-painful erection, were the size of cigarette filters.
Slowly, as if of their own volition, her hands reached up to cup beneath her breasts as if she were weighing them, her fingers reaching out to roll and tweak her nipples with masochistic abandon. "Grant, baby," she soothed huskily, "why don't you take your cock out where I can see it, too ... A girl likes to know if her man finds her pleasing, you know."
The young nephew needed no further encouragement. Indeed, he was wondering if his cock would actually explode if he didn't release it from the restrictive confines of his pants. And then, just as he wrested his turgid girth through the narrow zippered opening, Vikki gave her hips the added wiggle that sent her hot pants dropping to the floor to puddle at her feet.
She was still wearing all of her lacy undergarments, but she felt more naked than if she had been wearing nothing at all. She turned her back to Grant again, nearly losing her balance in the high platform shoes, and bent from the waist so that her firmly sculpted white buttocks strained through the mesh of lacy fabric, her exposed pussy lips throbbing hot and pink through the open crotch of the panties. At the juncture of her thighs, she felt wet ... wet and hot ... all at the same time.
Still gyrating her hips in time to the music coming over the stereo, Vikki looked between her well-placed legs at the turgid column of her nephew's penis poling lewdly skyward from the now-open fly of his slacks at a wicked forty-five degree angle. "Oh, baby," she exclaimed, "you really do like me, don't you!"
"Oh God, Aunt Vikki, let's fuck!"
"Does it hurt, darling?" She straightened and turned to face him again. "Would you like your Aunt Vikki to make it feel all nice and better for you ... ?"
A thin strand of silverish pre-coital syrup was already beginning to leak from the inflamed scarlet slit in the head of his cock to soil the brocade cushion of the couch below as Vikki approached him. God, he'd never even imagined the depravity that burned behind those fathomless blue eyes!
"I'm going to suck it for you, darling," she insisted. "I'm going to suck all the cum right out of your balls and swallow it!"
Instantly, she sank to her knees on the carpet between his legs, her slender right hand reaching out to encircle the trembling stalk of his dripping penis. She stroked it gently, lewdly, working the loose flap of foreskin up and down over the vermilion knob, hooding and unhooding it in time to the music that still piped over the speaker system. She took her eyes from the cock she held in her hand just long enough to register the effect she was having on him in his eyes. Like her own, her nephew's handsome brown eyes were glassy with mounting lust; her pleasure was instantaneous.
"You like that, don't you, darling?" she smiled wickedly. "You like the way 'Auntie' rubs your strong young cock ...!"
"Oh, shit ... SUCK IT!"
"Say please, Grant."
"PLEASE!"
Without further delay, the young redhead lowered her face the remaining fraction-of-an-inch to her nephew's cock and began to nurse as if her very life depended on it. She swirled her lizard-like tongue around and around the bulbous mushroom tip like a child experimenting with a rapidly melting ice cream cone, gently parting the gaping slit in the end to allow its pungent nectar to flow still more freely onto her sensitive lingual surface. It was delicious, her supreme victory, he was putty in her hands. And, she intended to play her advantage to the hilt.
With deliberate slowness, she drew her lips from Grants crowning glory to trail a row of dripping kisses down the underside of the shaft to his aching testicles nestled in their prickly scrotum. "You think I'm a good cocksucker?" she queried with mock innocence.
"Jesus, Aunt Vikki, you're the best!"
Her mouth returned to cap his leaking penis but for a scant second before darting back down to his balls. "What about, Angel, baby? Isn't she any good?"
"Yeah, she's good ... But nobody can hold a candle to you, Aunt Vikki."
Again, she gathered the accumulating nectar at the tip. "I know somebody who's even better," she lied expertly.
"Y-You do?" he stammered incredulously. "Who?"
"Carole."
"Carol? ... Carol who?"
Vikki returned in earnest now to the pulsing red fist that was the head of her nephew's penis, sucking with deep sure strokes that threatened to draw him right down her throat. She left his question momentarily unanswered, let his fertile young mind touch and release the obvious connection out-of-hand.
"Carol who?" he persisted.
"Carol Bauer, silly!" she breathed around the sweating flesh in her mouth. "Your mother!"
Grant went pale at the mention of his mother's name in such a context; the very idea of it was nauseating to him. His cock inexplicably swelled another inch.
"Y-You're lying, Aunt Vikki! Mom would never-"
"She wants you, baby," Vikki sucked. "She told me you remind her so much of Fred ... and God how she used to love to suck Fred off!"
Grant felt a knot of revulsion in the pit of his stomach as his cock threatened to explode right then and there. He opened his mouth to speak but could find no words.
"She used to suck him so much, I'm surprised you were even born," Vikki continued cruelly. "Some of his friends, too, when they were in town."
"Y-You're full of it, Aunt Vikki!"
"Am I, darling?"
She let the loaded question hang in the air while she returned to her delightful task with renewed vigor. It was obvious from the way her young ward's prick swelled in her mouth that she had struck "pay-dirt."
Grant's fevered young brain was a jungle of confused thoughts at the moment. The very idea of what Vikki had just told him was at once abhorrent in the deepest sense of the word ... and infinitely exciting. Truss, like most healthy and virile young men, he had once or twice conjured up decidedly sensual images of himself and his attractive rusty-haired mother in lewd embrace ... but he had never for a minute entertained any serious thoughts on the subject ... until now. To his utter mortification, he found himself pondering that if what his young Aunt Vikki had just told him was true, it could just as easily be his mother who was sucking his cock at that very moment ... and that he would be enjoying the act even more than he was now simply because of the very level of corruption it represented in his young mind. Sweet fucking Jesus, it was just too ... much!
Vikki was sucking for all she was worth now, bringing her satin tongue into play in ways that even she had thought impossible. Suddenly, she wanted to suck him dry, to draw the incestuous sperm from his handsome balls, to bring him to heel like an errant pup. But first, she had one more piece to fit into her exquisitely diabolical puzzle.
"Grant baby," she gargled around his swollen flesh, "how would you like to fuck your mother?"
Grant could feel his pulse thicken in the head of his penis. His mom had the biggest set of jugs he'd ever seen on a woman of her size, and the thought of getting his hands on them ... or his cock between them ... Or, better yet, up her pussy or her ass, was nearly overwhelming. "H-How?" he stammered.
"Don't worry about that part of it, baby," she soothed. "You just leave everything to Aunt Vikki, okay?"
The mere thought of fucking his own mother proved more than the virile young stud could handle, and he grimaced openly as his tortured young balls churned their final turn before erupting in long delicious spurts down Vikki's voraciously sucking throat. He didn't know what his beautiful aunt hoped to gain from all that she was suggesting, but whatever it was, he felt certain it couldn't be worth half as much as what he himself was getting. Jesus, a crack at his own mom!
Vikki smiled evilly at the increased pressure of the fingers winding into her freely flowing wealth of red hair as her nephew fucked furiously into her luscious face and she continued sucking at the hotly squirting jets of sperm that flooded her throat. Her head bobbed and sucked like she was servicing Satan himself ... and in some weirdly unscrupulous fashion she secretly supposed that she was. Even their previous little menage a trois with Angel couldn't compare with what she was feeling now for excitement, and she was almost disappointed when she felt Grant empty the last of his load into her face.
"Jesus, Aunt Vikki," he panted at last, "that was the most I ever came in my life! ... D-Do you want me to fuck you now?"
Vikki looked up at him and winked, strings of semen lewdly connecting her flushed lips with the slowly deflating head of his penis. "I think you'd better take it easy for the next couple of days, baby," she suggested. "After all, you wouldn't want to shortchange your own mother, would you?"