In the quiet of the afternoon, the sun cast a warm glow through the curtains of Imran's room. The faint hum of the neighborhood's distant sounds melded with the rhythmic creaking of his old bed. He lay there, the soft fabric of his boxers sticking to his skin with the first beads of sweat. The digital clock on his nightstand read 3:23 PM, a time that was as empty as the house he lived in.

Imran, a young man of 19, had just returned from a long day at college, his mind ablaze with thoughts that danced around the edges of his consciousness. He couldn't shake the image of Aunty Farzana, his mother's friend, who had dropped by earlier that week. She had always been an attractive woman, with a smile that could light up a room and a figure that curved in all the right places. Her visits were usually filled with laughter and stories of her travels, but today she had left an unexpected imprint on his thoughts.

He reached into his boxers and grasped his swelling manhood, stroking it gently. His mind replayed the way she had leaned over to pick up a book, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her blouse, creating a tantalizing outline. The memory grew more vivid with each stroke, his breath quickening. His eyes drifted shut as he imagined her standing before him, her dark eyes filled with a knowing look.

The door to his room creaked open, and Imran's heart skipped a beat. He froze, his hand still wrapped around his erection. Through the crack, he saw Aunty Farzana's silhouette. His eyes went wide with a mix of terror and excitement. He must not have locked the front door.

"Imran, are you okay?" she called out, her voice a soft melody that seemed to echo through the house. He frantically tucked himself back into his pants and scrambled to sit up, his cheeks burning. "It's just me, Aunty Farzana," she said, her footsteps approaching into his room.

As she stepped closer, the light from the hallway painted her in a soft glow. She was dressed in a light blue shalwar kameez that whispered against the floorboards with each step. Her eyes widened when she saw the flustered look on his face, and she couldn't help but smile. She knew what he had been doing. It was a universal secret shared by all who had felt the insatiable call of desire.

"The front door was unlocked," she said, her voice a gentle purr that seemed to fill the room. "I didn't mean to disturb you, but I had forgotten something when I was here earlier."

Imran's mind raced as he searched for a suitable excuse. But before he could say a word, Farzana sat down beside him on the bed. Her thigh brushed against his and he could feel the heat of her body through the fabric of their clothes. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her fingers warm and comforting.

"What were you doing, beta?" she asked, her smile a knowing curve. Her eyes searched his face, not with judgment but with a hint of curiosity. Imran felt his cheeks burn even hotter, and he swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.

"It's nothing," he stuttered, trying to compose himself. But the look on Aunty Farzana's face told him she wasn't going to let it go that easily. She leaned in closer, her breath warm on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "You know, we've all been there," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Her hand slid from his shoulder to his thigh, her touch sending a bolt of electricity through his body. She leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his arm. Imran could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the blood rushing to his cock, which was now straining against the fabric of his pants. "Let me help you," she offered, her voice a seductive purr. "Let's keep this our little secret."

With trembling hands, Imran unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. Farzana's gaze dropped to his crotch, her eyes widening slightly before she took his cock in her hand. Her grip was firm, yet gentle, as she began to stroke him. Her touch sent waves of pleasure rippling through his body, and he couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"That's it," she murmured, her eyes locked on his. "Just relax and let Aunty do this for you." Her thumb circled his sensitive tip, spreading precum as she worked her hand up and down his shaft. The feeling was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a delicious mix of excitement and relief. He watched as she leaned in closer, her lips parting slightly as she took a deep breath, as if savoring the musky scent of his arousal.

Her strokes grew more confident, each one sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his core. Imran's eyes rolled back in his head as he gave himself over to the sensation, his hips rocking slightly in time with her movements. He couldn't believe this was happening, that his mum’s best friend, Aunty Farzana was really sitting here, her hand wrapped around his cock.

The sound of her breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling in a tantalizing rhythm. Imran could feel her warmth, the fabric of her blouse brushing against his arm as she worked him. His hands found their way to her shoulders, gripping her tightly as the tension in his body built. He bit his bottom lip to stifle a moan, his eyes squeezed shut, lost in the feeling of her hand on him.

"You like that, don't you?" she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "Aunty knows you do." Her words were a hot whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "You've been thinking about me, haven't you?" Imran nodded, unable to find the words to respond. "I knew it," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "I could see it in your eyes every time I visited."

Her hand worked him faster now, her strokes more deliberate and sure. Imran's body was a live wire, his muscles tense with the building orgasm. He could feel the tension coiling in his stomach, the pressure building in his balls. "Look at me," she commanded, and he obeyed, his gaze locking onto hers. "I want to see the moment you come for me."

Her hand moved in a hypnotic rhythm, the friction building, the pressure reaching a crescendo. His body was a tightly wound spring, desperate for release. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing and the wet, slick noises of her hand moving over his skin. Imran's eyes squeezed shut even tighter as he felt the orgasm approaching, his entire body trembling with anticipation.

Their eyes remained connected as she tightened her grip, her thumb swirling around the head of his cock. Imran's breath hitched, his hips bucking upward involuntarily. He could feel the warmth of her breath against his neck as she leaned closer, her full, pouty lips mere inches from his ear. "You're so close, beta," she whispered, her voice a seductive promise. "Let go for Aunty."

He did as she said, his body succumbing to the delicious torment she was inflicting. With a strangled cry, he came, spurts of hot cum landing on his stomach and chest as she continued to milk him. His vision swam with the intensity of the orgasm, his body convulsing with pleasure. Farzana's hand slowed, her strokes lingering as she coaxed the last drops from him.

When the waves of ecstasy finally subsided, Imran collapsed back onto the bed, panting heavily. Farzana's hand remained around his softening cock for a moment longer, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. She took a tissue from the box on his nightstand and began to clean him up, her movements tender and motherly despite the explicit nature of their encounter.

Imran watched her, his eyes glazed with pleasure, unable to believe what had just occurred. She looked up at him, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief and satisfaction. "There," she said, placing the used tissue aside. "All clean."

Her hand lingered on his thigh, sending small aftershocks through his body. "Thank you," he managed to murmur, his voice barely above a whisper.

Farzana's smile grew, and she leaned in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. "You're welcome, beta," she said, her voice still low and husky. "But I think we both know that wasn't enough."

To Be Continued