Loving Aunt Brooke and my Mother, An evening at home with mum and Aunt Brooke

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“You dirty fucker,” she groaned as she ducked in to kiss my mouth.

We kissed, which is about my favourite thing to do while fucking either my aunt or my mother. For me, the kissing is an expression of feeling even more intimate than being inside them. It’s a connection. Personal. A means to communicate love. And I do love my aunt, the sex just makes it more special between us.

When the kiss broke, Brooke slowed the tempo. She rose up-and-down, gently using her sex, a hand going behind so she could splay her cheeks.

“Dig that finger in deep,” my aunt said with a smile.

I probed her rectum and held her stare, her pussy gliding over my shaft while time hung suspended.

“I love you,” I whispered.

Aunt Brooke paused and then smiled, soft and tender. “I love you, too,” she told me before she kissed me again.

It got more urgent between us as that kiss went on, my aunt starting to ride with more vigorous action, the dirty-talk spilling from her mouth as she closed her eyes and concentrated on getting her climax.

“Fuck me, Alan,” gurgled Aunt Brooke. “I’ve been waiting for this all fucking day. Make it good for me, baby. Let me ride you. Get that finger right into my arsehole. Stir it up back there.”

The sex noises came out of my aunt in a babble of nonsense obscenities, our bodies slap-thwacking together while I slid my free hand over her body. Her skin felt so smooth under my palm, the texture of a healthy young woman, muscles firm, her breasts and buttocks taut yet pliant with that peculiar spongy softness of a female body in its prime.

The sounds Brooke made were a sign she was close. She muttered and mumbled the foul profanities, lost in her joy, a hand down between her legs so she could go at her bean and, as Brooke diddled and I worked the finger into her anus, I looked towards the chair where I expected to see my mother still using her fingers while watching me and my aunt. But when I looked over, my mother had moved. Now she was standing close by, her hand between her thighs, the hem of the diaphanous negligee draped over her wrist.

“Mum,” I said, surprised.

“You’re fucking my sister,” she said in reply.

I gulped and nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s so rude. It’s wicked,” she said, the words coming out clotted and thick.

When I replied with, “You started it,” my mother grinned and then winced. She let out a moan and wriggled around, hand sawing at her sex while she groaned and rocked her pelvis back-and-forth. My mother sighed and mewled, rubbing her pussy over her hand as she squirmed at the pleasure.

“I did, didn’t I, Alan.” A statement, not a question. My mother moaned again, sucking on her lower lip for a couple of seconds before adding a hoarse, “You needed a push.”

“Kiss me,” I gasped on a surge of emotion.

She did. My mother moved closer and knelt on the sofa, leaning in so her breasts swung within reach. I pulled my hand away from my aunt’s bottom, cupping the weight of my mother’s tits in my palms.

The sensations I experienced as my aunt fucked her urgency over my cock, the heavy roundness of my mother in my hands, and the swirl of her tongue brought forth the rush and I came, spunk flooding my aunt, her squeal loud while I carried on kissing my mum.

In an unnecessary announcement, Brooke wailed, “You’re coming! Oh God no! Please, not yet!”

I didn’t care. Not in the moment. The pleasure was too sublime, my delight spurting into my aunt while my mother’s tongue squirmed in my mouth, breast-flesh spilling over my hands.

“You fucker,” Brooke squealed, bouncing robustly. “I’m close, so fucking close.”

“Keep going,” I told her. “It’ll stay hard.”

Brooke said it through gritted teeth, her bottom slapping against me while she snarled, “You fucking better stay hard. I’m so fucking horny I’d gang-bang a room full of cocks.”

It wasn’t an idle boast from me. Not at twenty. Not with those two women involved in the fray. My mother was forty-seven, Brooke over two decades younger. My aunt was twenty-five, closer to me in age than she was to her sister, both of them of a type: thick-middle women; sexy and bold and sassy. Beautiful girls all full and ripe, rounded where it counts. Quick to smile and easy to tumble into bed, as I’d found out. If either one was involved, I could easily come twice on the bounce. With them both present, I reckon I could have fucked all night.

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