Ron Taylor - Naughty aunt Susan

He was trying to get his hands inside my tight cutoffs, and I wanted to help him. But the way we were lying it was difficult for me to lend any assistance. So I did the next best thing. I got a fistful of his cock and squeezed it tenderly, beginning to shuck it up and down with my hand. It was a toss-up whether his cock or my palm was the hotter then, but we did share the heat back and forth.

"Shit up," I commanded, and he did, kneeling beside me with his rod sticking out. I didn't know whether to let go of his cock and use both hands on my zipper or keep my grip and fumble left-handed at the fastenings of my shorts. I was still deciding when I heard the front door open. Naturally, I looked up.

Mom and Daddy were in the doorway, and their eyes seemed to lock right into mine as Eric and I sat there. I wanted to look away but I couldn't summon the nerve to do it. Eric heard the noise, too, and he looked around, going all red when he saw them. His cock wilted in my hand and he tried to get my fist loose so he could stuff it back in his pants and get out, but I seemed unwilling or unable to let go. I don't know which. All my muscles had frozen in place and I was like a statue.

Daddy came pouncing into the living room, Mom close behind, her hands clutching at his flying arms. He was mad, he was hollering, and I think he was promising to do some nasty things to Eric if he could just get his hands on that long-haired son of a bitch. Well, I thought. Somebody's going to catch hell now, it seems.

Eric was slated to catch his share of that hell, but he jumped off the couch, trying to get his cock inside his pants, and the lucky boy managed to sidle past Mama and Daddy and out the door. Daddy lunged after him but missed, and then he and my mother were both in the living room with me, their eyes burning with anger.

It took me a moment to realize that my tee-shirt was still pulled up, leaving my tits free and naked to their inspection. I tugged it down quickly. Daddy began to holler and Mama started to cry, both at the same time. I didn't know which of them I should listen to.

"We've given you everything!" Mama wailed between sobs, as if that was a logical argument.

"Who was that boy?" Daddy thundered impressively. He's a big, well-turned man – I could go for him, if he wasn't my daddy and if I had a thing for older men, which I really don't and his flats knotted as he waited for my answer.

"His name's Harry," I lied, finding something that sounded close. "I met him at the club, and he brought me home. Oh, Daddy, we weren't doing anything, really!"

"Not doing anything?" Mama sniffed.

"Not doing anything?" Daddy echoed. "We come home and find the two of you half-naked on the couch, your hands on his."

"We were only petting," I protested. "All the kids do it." Petting was their generation's word; I figured they'd understand it. To me it was just foreplay.

"And what if we'd come in a few minutes later?" he yelled. "What would we have found then? Pamela, I want to know right now – have you done this sort of thing before? Who with? Have you – have you ever done…"

Mama's eyes got really big and she looked as if she were going to have a nervous breakdown on the spot. She's a small lady, dainty and delicate, pretty, and she looks so helpless when she's in distress.

From the mood they were in, I didn't think my parents were ready to hear an uncensored account of just what sort of things I'd done before and would do in the future at every opportunity. I lied. "I know what you mean, Daddy," I said, blushing by will alone. "And what kind of a girl do you think your daughter is? Do you think I'm some kind of sleep-around tramp? I'm a good girl." That was true. The consensus among my better friends was that I was pretty good. "But, when you're sitting and talking with a boy, and you maybe kiss him a time or two because he wants to do it, and then he touches you, and – well, he gets excited, you know? And…"

Daddy helped Mama sit down and he flopped into a chair himself. "So," he cut in, "you masturbate him? Do you do that with all the boys you date? My God, I'll kill every one of them!"

I'd talk myself into a corner in spite of everything. "No, no, no!" I squealed. "It's not that way at all!" but it was too late. Mama had regained some of her control and she began to talk.

"We can't go away now, George," she told Daddy. "I couldn't sleep if I thought about Pamela here alone, what she might be getting herself into…"

Oh, shit! I had really blown it now! And all because I wanted to go swimming. See what I mean? If we'd had a pool of our own, none of it would ever have happened.

Daddy shook his head. "I don't think we can cancel out now," he mused. "But we can't leave her here by herself either. Maybe your parents would like to have her as a guest while we're away. They hardly ever get to see her."

Anything but that! Grandpa and Grandma lived in a retirement village in Florida and they read Bible verses every night for a couple of hours before going to bed. Jesus, I'd die there!

"It's so far," Mama said, and I tried not to nod in agreement. She thought a moment and her face brightened. "What about Susan? She'd be a wonderful influence an Pam, wouldn't she?"

Aunt Susan? God almighty! That was nearly as bad as Gran and Gramp! Aunt Susan is Mama's youngest sister. She's a writer and lives in a farmhouse somewhere in Ohio, of all grungy places, and she looks like a dishrag. A nunnery would be livelier than her place for a month. I felt sick.

"Yes," Daddy agreed. "Susan would be perfect. Do you think she'd mind?" Mama shook her head, and it seemed that they had the matter decided between them. Well! There went all my plans for a month of partying and frolicking.

"Don't you trust me?" I whined, and the stern looks an their faces was answer without words. I winced and got up.

"Where are you going now?" Daddy blasted.

"To Lilly's," I replied in a hurt voice. "I should let her know that she won't be able to come stay with me, since I won't be staying myself."

They grumbled, but they finally let me go, though Daddy checked the mileage on the car before I left and warned me that any suspicious extra distance when I got back would be taken out of my hide.

Lilly would be pissed, I thought, but not half as pissed as I was. We'd been making big plans. But it was most definitely off for now, and it was all my fault.

Lilly's mom was on her way out, and she told me to go on in, that Lilly was in the bathroom, where else? I heard the water running in the room down the hall as I flopped down on Lilly's bed, curling my legs in the air.

In a moment or two she entered the room, wearing a towel and a headful of wet hair. "Oh, hi," she said, sarcastic as shit. "Jesus, Pam, what's wrong with you? You look like a girl who just found out the rabbit died."

"Worse," I said, and I told her the whole story as she stood beside me. Her face clouded.

"Oh, crud! When you fuck, you fuck, don't you? Couldn't you have gone out and parked somewhere like any normal girl? Why did you have to bring him home and screw him in the parlor?"

"Yeah," I pouted, twisting my fingers in the tail of my shirt. "Sometimes I think you're right about this women's lib stuff, Lil. If I'd been a boy and they'd walked in on that scene, Daddy would have been smirking up a storm. He'd have slapped my back and offered me some of his private stock of rubbers and told me a couple of dirty jokes. But girls are different. Daddy wants to kill, and all Mama does is cry. I should have given them something to cry about. A full confession."

Lilly shrieked in laughter. "You'd have given them coronaries! Would you have told them about me, too?"

"Bet your buns," I said. She grinned, did a quick hoochie-koochie that made her towel glide to the floor, and then she covered me with her sinuous body.