Her third thought was the awareness of the gathering wetness in her panties. She always set her alarm ten minutes fast, so she could attend to her morning ritual of masturbation. On this particular morning, she needed it desperately.
She clicked on her bed lamp, flipped the covers off and doubled a pillow under her head so that she could see her genital. She flipped off her panties. Her knees lifted up toward her head and bowed outward. With swiftness born of much practice, she took the gooseneck mirror she kept under her bed and placed its base under her left buttock. Her hands immediately went to her throbbing pussy as she deftly adjusted the mirror, revealing a magnified view of her swollen and moist genitals.
Wendy relished the feeling of naughtiness she got by watching herself pleasure herself. In the mirror, she spread her pussy lips apart revealing the pink canal into her vagina. Two fingers of one hand penetrated as deeply as she could manage; two fingers of the other hand began making love to her elegant clitoris which was as erect as a tiny penis. She stared intently into the mirror as she masturbated. She recalled the intensely erotic conversations she had had online with her aunt and uncle, and the incredible violation of her virgin flesh just the night before.
Fingers plunged brutally into her holy of holies, sweeping aside her religious injunctions against auto-eroticism. Fingers seductively massaged her swollen clitoris. In just a few minutes, the blissful pleasure rose to a magnificent crescendo and the young woman had to bite her lip to keep from keening out the intensity of her extended climax. Her entire body convulsed with pleasure and release.
And then it was time to get dressed for breakfast.
Despite the fact that George was up at the crack of dawn, busily making breakfast for his family, Gwen and Nelson were allowed to sleep in. Wendy slipped into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“Girl! What were you doing up so late showering again? Have you seen our water bill?”
Jeanine stepped in. “Oh, George! Take it easy. She’s just excited to meet her aunt and uncle from Texas. By the way, I gave Wendy permission to show them the Norman castle next week. After all, she was a docent there and at the castle museum last summer. If it’s okay with you, dear.”
“Hmmph! Seems like a silly waste of time to me. She has her chores and her studies to do! But I guess it’s okay. I’ll have a word with Gwen to make sure she keeps a sharp eye on our girl. I’ll have no funny business going on. You hear that Wendy?”
“Yes, father.”
Two hours later, the visitors slogged into the kitchen, victims of jet lag. There was plenty of breakfast left and a pot of hot, strong coffee. After the last scone was buttered and consumed, George announced he would give a tour of his farm. As the adults stood up, Wendy hurried in and asked to go along. It took some doing to convince her father that she had already finished her morning chores, and so he gruffly relented.
Gwen and Nelson walked out the back door onto a small covered porch that overlooked a vast stretch of lovely English countryside. In the distance was lots of farmland, and old woodland covering three modest hills. It looked so much like a scene out of an old Robin Hood movie. In the middling distance were a number of out buildings and barns and orchards. In the nearer distance, just beyond the neatly mown grass and a small copse of ash trees, were large planted fields.
George started right in as he led them all off the porch. “So over here we had our winter crops. They’re all harvested now. Right there I’m growing strawberries. Quite a padding to my pocket, let me tell you! I grow some of the finest in Norwich. Then there’s the raspberries there. Mostly the mizzus makes jam of them over in that boiling shed. They sell pretty good at the fairs in Cambridge. We’ll load you up with a dozen jars before you leave.”
Nelson asked, “What kind of orchard is that?”
George huffed, “Apple. Two varieties. Nothing special. They’re a standard cash crop in this area. I sell them to local grocers and bakeries. Now follow me and I’ll show you my barn. I’m hoping to get a few cattle next year, but right now, all we keep in it are a couple of sheep. They’re nothing but useless pets, but the mizzus keeps saying she wants to try her hand at carding wool. Bah!”
The air had a lovely crisp bite to it, the sun shone warmly and everyone was having a good time. Then George decided it was time for all to go inside. He was a mite surprised to find dissent among the ranks.
Gwen said, “George? Do you mind if Wendy shows me the boiling shed? You all go inside. We won’t be long.”
“Hmmph! Well, if you insist. Wendy, don’t be too long, girl.”
Father, mother and Nelson went back inside for more coffee. Gwen led her niece to the shed.
“Aunt Gwen? There really isn’t much in there right now. And it’s a bit dusty…”
Wendy opened the heavy door and led the older woman inside, then pushed the door closed. It was dim inside but adequately lit by two skylights. Wendy was about to point out the kettles and gas heaters when she felt Gwen’s hand on her shoulder, pulling her around. And then arms were around her and lips were on her lips and she felt her breasts being pressed against another pair of breasts.
Wendy gasped in surprise and confusion and suddenly realized what was happening. In her disorientation, she resisted for all of ten seconds, then slowly melted into her aunt’s arms, and let her aunt’s warm prehensile tongue into her mouth. A flash of molten heat sparked in her loins. The feeling of Gwen’s breasts mashing and rubbing her own was naughty beyond belief and she put everything into the kiss with her aunt.
Wendy found herself lifted by her waist and set upon a heavy cleaning table covered with a plastic sheet. Then warm hands slipped under her skirt and swiftly slid up both thighs to her genitals. Before she knew what was going on, she was once again on another sexual roller coaster ride. Voices in her head told her to stop this invasion, to slow it down at least, but her wretched body took over and signaled her unconditional surrender.
A few minutes later, Wendy was once again hurtling upward through sexual heights she had never known before, as Gwen’s experienced lips and tongue ravished her virgin pussy, assaulted her insanely aroused clitoris – and alien but loving fingers probed and violated her inner depths. Waves of giddiness and pleasure swirled around her, higher, faster, and then crashed down upon her, sweeping her into the abyss.
“oh… oh… mommy! Oh my god, mommy! Oh Yes!...”
= = = = =
An hour later, dressed for the drizzly weather expected later on, all five of them drove out in George’s vintage French minivan. There were lots of old streets with cobble roads, and very old Tudor houses, many being historic landmarks which had been lovingly restored. Their first stop was the Norwich Cathedral, of course, which dominated the local skyline. George was eager to show them the old tapestries and paintings inside. They stayed for a Benedictine prayer service, then walked over to the Cathedral Shop.
Gwen and Nelson found the historic town absolutely delightful. Given Wendy’s warnings, Nelson made a point never to approach too close to Wendy (unless her father was nearby), nor touch her, nor appear to be too interested in her. Gwen was the one who interacted with the teenager, giggling, cutting up, and delighting in all the myriad sites and sounds. Whispered intimacies were shared back and forth, often resulting in peals of laughter.
George took them around to other lovely parts of Norwich, including the wonderful Riverside walk and Chapelfield gardens. All too soon, it was time to go back to the cozy house on Chamomile Lane. It was Friday, the second evening. This time, they went to bed at a reasonable hour.
= = = = =
There was a scratching on the guest room door. Gwen silently got out of bed in the dim lamplight and silently opened the door. The wisp of a girl, dressed in a dark robe, slipped through the crack. Gwen confirmed there were no sounds from the other end of the house. As she closed the door, she heard a soft sigh of pleasure behind her. She turned to see Wendy melt into the arms of her uncle on the heirloom bed. The kisses and suppressed giggles went on for long sweet minutes. Nelson’s hands went inside the girl’s robe and were fondling her breasts and her perfectly formed ass. He kissed and sucked on her magnificent breasts until she writhed in exquisite torture. Wendy rolled over and put one his knees between her thighs and was impatiently humping it against her clitoris. Gwen joined them.
When the time seemed right, they all paused to catch their breath. Wendy’s face was glowing with anticipation and lust. And yet, there was reluctance there as well. She was in totally uncharted waters, and her worries of being discovered would not retreat. But she had already experienced two fabulous sessions of sexual release with her aunt and uncle. She was drawn, almost against her will, to experience more, and yet more.
Gwen softly whispered, “It’s time, sweet Pookie, for you to be properly introduced to your wicked daddy. Are you ready?”
Wendy nodded and whimpered plaintively.
Gwen opened Nelson’s gray silk robe, exposing his erection to the eyes of the aroused virgin. It was over seven inches long, an inch thick and more at the head, fully two inches thick at the base, curved slightly upwards, the mushroom head dark and swollen. His penis, indeed, his entire crotch was smoothly shaved, and faintly scented with a musky fragrance. Her fingers tentatively reached out for the forbidden fruit of her most lascivious fantasies. She looked up at Gwen, who grinned broadly, and nodded her permission. Wendy’s pale hand extended, reached, touched and finally grasped the holy scepter of her insistent sexual clamoring. Her gut was in knots, her genitals aflame, and oozing her own lubrication.
Nelson looked longingly into her young face. “Hello, Princess. Daddy loves you very much, and wants you to see for yourself how much I want you. Touch me. Touch daddy’s erection. Feel it, stroke it.
And she did. Her hand wandered all over the beautiful erotic flesh, noting the veins, the hardness, the masculine essence. She was holding a man’s penis in her hand! An erect, sexually aroused penis! A penis that was aroused by her, for her, ultimately intended to penetrate her soft woman flesh and plant this man’s seed deep within her! She gasped and shook with the intensity of this insight. This penis, the one she was so lovingly stroking, was destined to fuck her and take her virginity!
Her other hand had to fly between her legs and massage the hot moist valley of her vulva, to take the edge off her own uncontrollable need.
She noticed a glint, a reflection, near the flange of his mushroom cap. She felt it. It was a tiny silver ring pierced through the ring of flesh marking his circumcision. She looked in wonder up at Nelson, then at Gwen. Her aunt opened her own robe, spread her thighs wide, and revealed an identical three millimeter ring through one of her labia. Matching rings! Omigod, how romantic! And how totally erotic!
A hand touched her face, her temple, her hair, pressing, guiding, insistent. With a flash, she knew what was expected of her. Her lips touched, and then slowly kissed the head of her wicked daddy’s cock.
