Jerry Milner: Depraved aunt

Through her peep hole she saw a tall, buxom woman standing on her front steps. She was quite a good-looking woman, wearing an emerald green business suit, carrying an attache case, and looking as if she had something to sell. She had short, wavy red hair, a long, straight nose, wide, thin lips, and a very strong set to her jaw. She looked to be four or five years older than Ellen. Ellen was just about to turn away from the door and let the woman goon her way, but then on impulse she opened the door and asked if she could help her.

The tall, red-haired woman coolly looked Ellen over. Ellen was already sorry she'd opened the door, for all she had on was a robe, and panties and bra, and the disdainful gaze from her feminine caller made her feel quite uncomfortable. "May I help you?" she asked.

"Ellen Bascomb?" said the statuesque redhead, pronouncing the name in a less than courteous manner.

Ellen squared her shoulders, drew her robe more tightly around her, and glared at the woman as she said, "That's right, and I'm very busy. Please state your business and go."

"I'll leave soon enough, but not without taking your daughter with me," the woman said, and smoothly drew a small, nickel-plated automatic pistol from her purse.

Ellen didn't like guns at all. Instead of slamming the door very quickly, she took two steps backward into her house, staring down in horror at the gun muzzle as the woman came in after her.

It was the red-headed woman who closed, Ellen's door, and then she looked about Ellen's living room, again with great disdain, and said, "Where is it you're keeping Carole?"

"You're Tony!" said Ellen, trying to hold her ground, but still backing up. "You followed her. Or she was able to call you on the phone. Get out of here or I'll call the police."

Pow! Pow! Pow! The pistol sent three of its slugs into the carpet near Ellen's suddenly dancing feet, and without a change of expression, the lesbian said, "Where's Carole?"

"You're too late! She's gone! Far away! To a normal life! Please don't shoot me!" said Ellen, almost wetting her panties in her shock and fright.

"We'll see about that. Show me through this house. Move!" she said, and punctuated the command with another shot from her pistol. Ellen squealed in her fright once again and clutched at her belly and staggered backward.

Fighting for control of her fear-weakened bladder all the way, Carole showed the sneering woman through her house. She knew very well the shots wouldn't be heard by her neighbors, and even if they were, the housewives wouldn't come to aid. With the gun at her back, she finally led the way into her bedroom, there to be confronted with the damning evidence of the broomsticks and Carole's bonds, and the sex magazines scattered over the bed.

Coolly smiling, still very much in control of her pistol, the tall red-haired woman flipped through one of the magazines, tossed it aside and said, "So this is where you held her prisoner. What a disgusting mother you are."

"I did it for her own good! Please go. She wants nothing to do with you now."

"I'll have to hear that from her. And she's got some money for me."

"The thousand dollars? I never had any intention of giving it to her, but I'll give it to you if you go now and don't come back."

The woman sneered and looked Ellen up and down, disrobing her with her homosexual gaze, and though Ellen stood proudly and tall before her, hot shame suffused her body. "I might stay for a while," said Tony. "Rest up for a couple of days."

"You will not! I won't permit it!"

"Where's your bathroom? I have to take a piss."

She took off her jacket and dumped it and her attache case on Ellen's bed. At gunpoint, Ellen led the way into her bathroom. There, standing before Ellen's toilet, she unzipped the side fastening zipper of her tight green skirt. It was quite a tight skirt, and though she squirmed her broad hips this way and that, she couldn't quite push it down.

"Help me off with it," she said. "I've been stifling inside it, and I want to pee in comfort."

With the gun pointed at her, Ellen had no choice at all but to get down on her knees before the towering, red-haired lesbian and work the tight skirt down over her hips. Quaking with fear, Ellen sat back on her heels while the woman stepped out of her skirt. Now she was clad in high heels and dark nylons, a garter belt and tight, gauzy black panties, and a dazzling white blouse that was cut in the fashion of a man's dress shirt, complete with long shirt tails. Her skin, Ellen saw, was milk-white.

"You'll have to take down my panties, too," said the unwelcome visitor.

Ellen started to protest, looked at the unwavering gun, and leaned forward and gingerly pulled down at the very tight garment.

It was only then, at the very close range, that Ellen realized how powerfully the woman was built. Though her hips were wide, they were thoroughly muscular, with none of the flab to be expected on the hips of a woman that age. Though her thighs were entirely feminine in their every contour, and though they were very soft and smooth to the touch, they were solidly packed with muscle. Still breathless and quaking with fear, Ellen wormed and peeled and worked down the tight black panties, gasping aloud, when she'd bared the lesbian's loins, for they were hairless and brazenly thrusting forward from between her powerful thighs, a broad vee-shaped pillow of flesh that was deeply split down the middle.

The woman smiled and brushed manicured fingers over the hairless mound, saying, "I had it all removed. My girls seem to like it very well this way."

"Your girls," Ellen said sarcastically, though her voice threatened to falter. "You ought to be ashamed of what you do to those girls."

The lesbian chuckled, pointed the gun at her cunt, and said, "Kiss it."

Ellen thought she might faint as she leaned forward to do as she'd been ordered. Her bladder was bursting, her head was reeling, and her gorge was rising at the powerful, sex-sweaty smell radiating out from those big, bald loins. Still she managed to touch her lips to the hairless mound and sit back on her heels once again.

She had a close, almost straight-on view of that weird, hairless cunt as the lesbian worked her panties down over her nyloned legs and high heels. She saw it from a different angle, saw its fat fleshy lips as the woman sat down on her toilet with her legs opened out obscenely wide. She saw the pee gush from her cunt, and as it did, such a pang seized Ellen's cunt that she had to clench her fists over her loins.

"Ah-h-h," said the seated lesbian, gushing and pissing and clattering into the bowl while Ellen fought for her self-control. The smell of her pee and her cunt was strong, and in Ellen's cramped condition, almost unendurable.

After what seemed like a very long time, the lesbian's peeing stopped. She leisurely blotted herself dry and flushed the toilet, and that noise added still more to Ellen's anguished discomfort. The redhead loomed toweringly high over the kneeling brunette as she rose.

"Do you have to go, too?" she said. "Do know, while I can keep an eye on you."

Ellen nodded. "I've got to go very badly. But… but please don't watch."

The lesbian laughed. Then she held out her hand, and Ellen meekly took it and was helped to her feet, for her knees felt so weak she could not have stood up by herself.

She stepped toward that very beckoning toilet, and a hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Please!" Ellen murmured, and she was turned about to face the grinning redhead.

The lesbian peeled Ellen's robe down over her shoulders, nodded at what she saw, and gave Ellen's left tit a warm squeeze that made Ellen gasp and give a start.

"Very nice," said the lesbian, and peeled Ellen's bra strap down over her shoulder, pulled down the bra cup, and bared Ellen's tit. "Just as nice as your daughter's, but not so firm and young."