Malcom - A Boy, and his cousin Wendy - all night long!

Aunt Trish's reunion could be a boy's fantasy come true. Then Malcolm has to share his bed with cousin Wendy, as they have a full house – oh a boy’s struggles!

Disclaimer: Welcome to a world where forbidden desire is the only rule. This story is part of a collection where all lines are meant to be crossed. If you keep reading, you're already on the other side.
Reader discretion is advised.
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Previous story in this series; Malcolm - A Boy, his willing Aunt, and two eager Cousins. – Tap on my name if you want to find Malcolm’s other stories.

The meet-up point for the Tech Convention was a chaotic mess of teenagers and parents. Malcolm’s mom had dropped him off with a quick kiss and a “be good.” An hour later, his phone buzzed. It was her, then a text: Running into a snag at work. I called your Aunt Trish. She’s coming to get you when your done.
Malcolm grinned. Trish was his dad’s sister, and she was cool. A fellow sci-fi nerd with a sharp wit and a body that was firm and athletic under her casual clothes – and on hindsight, hot. It had been a while since he’d seen her last.
When her SUV pulled up, as she jumped out he bounded over, giving her a hug that was a little more touchy, a little more lingering than it would have been a few months ago. He felt her stiffen slightly, then relax.
“Whoa, getting tall,” she said, her voice a little tight.
In the vehicle, he watched her. He wasn’t just a kid looking at his aunt anymore. He was a young man evaluating a woman. He noticed the way her small, firm breasts pressed against her seatbelt, the full curve of her lips as she concentrated on the traffic. Something had shifted in him, and he could see she felt it. A flicker of confusion in her eyes.
“Let’s swing by my place,” she said, a little too brightly. “You stink. So shower. I’ve got some clothes that’ll fit. I’ll grab a pizza.”
Her apartment was clean and minimalist. “Shower’s through there,” she pointed. “Leave your clothes in a pile. I’ll be back in twenty.”
The hot water was a welcome relief. He soaped up, the steam filling the small room, and his hand drifted to his cock. It was already hard from thinking about Trish’s lips, the memory of Carol’s gasps, the taste of Wendy, and the sexual hunger of Melissa. He started to stroke, long, slow pulls, his mind a montage of female flesh. He took his time, as the pleasure built, a tight coil in his gut, and as he went over the edge, a name slipped from his lips, a breathy gasp he couldn’t contain.
“Yes, Mom!”
Trish had come back early. The pizza was on the counter, but she’d been stopped dead in her tracks, as she went to check on her nephew, by the sound from the bathroom. She got upset with herself for the heat blooming between her legs, for the way her nephew’s moaning was making her feel. Indulging a peek, she quietly opened the bathroom door. Through the fogged glass of the shower door, she could see his silhouette, his head back, his arm moving rhythmically. He was masturbating.
Her own breath hitched. Then she heard it. The name he’d just moaned.
Mom.
She closed the door softly and stepped back, her mind reeling.
Malcolm froze. He’d heard the faint click of the door, a soft sigh. He decided to pretend he hadn’t. He shut off the water, toweled his hair, and walked naked into the guest bedroom to find the clothes she’d left.
She was standing there, staring. Her jaw was slack, her eyes locked on his tall, gangly frame, on his semi-erect cock hanging between his legs. When he turned, their eyes met, he felt a jolt of power, and his cock began to stand back up, rising to full, beautiful attention.
“Trish, I’m sorry…” he feigned shock, making no move to cover himself.
“You think of your mom when you’re jerking off?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper. He looked for any sign of disgust, any condemnation. All he saw was a raw, hungry curiosity as her eyes kept flicking down to his fourteen-year-old cock.
“Yes,” he said, his voice steady. He dropped the towel. “She’s just so beautiful.” he let that hang. She wasn’t revolted by his honesty. He took his chance, and walked toward her. He was almost her height. “You are so beautiful, too.”
He reached out and touched her cheek. She didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned into his touch. He leaned in and she didn’t fight it, their lips meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss that deepened instantly, full of unspoken, forbidden need.
They made out, their tongues tangling. “Malcolm, we… we shouldn’t…” she breathed, but he was already lifting her sweatshirt, his hands tracing the smooth skin of her waist. She was still trying to talk herself out of it, her protests weak and breathless, as he peeled off her crop top, then unzipped her pants. Disgarding her bra. And before she knew it, she was naked before this fourteen-year-old boy.
He dropped to his knees. Melissa was such a good teacher. He knew what to do. He buried his face in her pussy, his tongue finding her clit with an expertise that shocked her. He ate her out with a focused intensity, the laps of her tongue, the gently strokes of his finger,and she came, her hands fisting in his hair, a cry of pure pleasure escaping her lips.
He stood and led her to the bed. She took his beautiful cock in her hand, guiding it to her mouth. She swallowed him, but before he could get too lost in the sensation, he pushed her gently back. He climbed between her legs, he rubbed his cock up and down her wet lips. She moaned at the incredible feeling that hard head gave her. Their eyes meeting. As he slipped inside her, she trembled as his cock rubbed her g-spot. Then he plunged deep and fucked her hard, just the way he’d learned to do. He was a machine, a piston of youthful energy. Long, deep strokes, watching his beautiful aunt, as her jaw dropped, deep moans. Nearing his own end, he pulled out, turned her over, and took her from behind as she lay flat on her belly. He filled her pussy over and over again, and she screamed, her orgasms crashing over her in waves.
They lie on the bed beside one another, sometimes kissing, their bodies slick with sweat. “How long?” she asked softly. “How long have you wanted to fuck your mother?”
“Since I was around ten. I caught them… Mom and Dad… fucking. Saw them doing oral. I always wanted to be the one in her bed – in her mouth, inside her.”
Trish found that confession so incredibly hot. She felt a fresh wave of arousal, reached over to his cock which had a renewed hardness to it, and went down on him again, sucking hard on his beautiful cock. He gently laid his on her head, encouraging her bobbing, he bet her bobbing with his own thrusts, he fucked her mouth until he shot one stream of cum after another into her throat.
They cleaned up, the air thick with the scent of their sin. When his mom arrived, Trish was the picture of calm.
“Thanks so much, Trish,” she said, oblivious. “Work took a turn for the worse, and I knew I would be late!”
“Anytime,” Trish replied, her eyes finding Malcolm’s. “We should do this again soon.”
When they got home, his mom gave him the news. “Your Aunt Sandra is staying over. Carol’s sharing a room with her mom. Wendy will be sharing your bed for the night.”
Malcolm moaned in mock-protest, but he wasn’t serious. Time alone with Wendy. That made him hard.
That night, he put on a movie for himself and Wendy as they cuddled in his bed, he had a decent size TV in the corner of the room, for a fourteen-year-old. Their mothers poked their heads in. “Aren’t they cute?” Sandra whispered. So innocent.
A short while later, under the safety of the blanket, he felt Wendy’s small hand snake into his pajamas. Her movements were a little clumsy, her fingers fumbling until they took hold of his cock. He giggled at the absurdity and boldness of his young cousin. She stroked him with an eager, inexperienced rhythm until he was granite-hard. A private moment with Wendy—she wanted his cock.
She pulled down her pajamas and underwear, the elastic band catching on her heel for a second. Then she turned sideways until they were spooning, her back against his chest. She wiggled, trying to find the right angle, her hip bone digging into him. She reached behind her, gently grasping his erection, she lined his cock up with her tight pussy and pushed back.
“We need a condom,” he protested in a harsh whisper, his voice cracking slightly on the words.
“I’m on the pill,” she whispered back, her voice full of a confidence she clearly didn’t feel.
He took the chance. He pushed further into her, the tight, wet heat a shock. It felt amazing. They found a rhythm, nice and slow and deep. He reached into her top to play with her breasts. They were almost flat, just soft mounds with puffy nipples that hardened into tiny, sharp points under his touch. He tweaked her nipples, and his long cock made her cum again and again, her body shuddering against his. As she did, her pussy squeezed his cock, milking it, and he exploded inside her, a powerful, pulsing release that left him breathless.
She sighed, a small, happy sound against his pillow. “Thank you, Malcolm.”

During the night, he woke up. The bed wasn’t really suitable for two squirming teens, and every shift and turn had been a new, intimate contact. As he opened his eyes, the dim glow of his alarm clock read 3:17 AM. He was hard, a thick, insistent morning wood that demanded attention. And he remembered Wendy beside him.
She was lying on her belly, her face buried in the pillow, her naked lower half still exposed from their earlier encounter. He gently stripped back the sheet, the cool air a welcome shock. She was definitely a small girl, her frame slight and almost boyish, not really looking her age. But seeing her like this, so vulnerable and naked, her pussy exposed, made Malcolm’s cock pulse with a primal need.
He moved with a practiced silence, climbing across the bed until he was kneeling between her legs. He gently spread them, revealing her tight slit. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed it up and down her pussy, using the head to part her folds, teasing her clit until she was moaning softly into her pillow and growing wet. Then he slipped the head of his hard cock into her. He pulled out, then pushed back in, a little deeper this time, repeating the slow, torturous process until he was buried all the way inside her tight, welcoming heat.
He took his time, stroking his cock in and out of her with long, deep thrusts. He fucked her deep, his hips pressing against her small ass. She was moaning now, semi-awake, her sleepy voice encouraging him. “Yes, cuz… fuck me…”
“Be quiet,” he hissed, his voice a low command as he lay on top of her, covering her body with his own, fucking her from behind. She orgasmed, a muffled cry against the pillow, and as she was cumming again, her pussy spasmed and squeezed his cock in a rhythmic, milking grip. That was all it took. He groaned into her hair and came, filling her up with a second, massive load of his cum.
He rolled off her, elated and spent. Wendy giggled, a sleepy, happy sound, pulled the sheet over herself, and fell back asleep in an instant.

He woke in the morning to the most incredible dream. His mom had his cock deep in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, taking him to the hilt. It felt so real, so perfect. He reached out, his fingers tangling in soft hair, and started to apply a gentle strength, guiding the rhythm of the fucking. He moaned, his lips parting to say “Mom,” when his eyes fluttered open.
It was Wendy.
Wendy was giving him head, her dark hair pooled on his stomach, her mouth working his cock with an eager, hungry skill. The sight, combined with the lingering dream-image of his mother, was too much. He shot his load deep into her mouth, and she took every shot, her throat working as she swallowed it all. She pulled back, a string of cum connecting her lip to his cock, and smiled. A wicked, satisfied giggle escaped her. “Good morning. I saw you were hard, and I couldn’t help myself… helping out with your dream of your mom!” she giggled, “Hot, I’d love to see that!”
They both giggled.
Malcolm pulled her to him, and they kissed, a deep, passionate kiss that tasted of his cum and her morning breath. She had removed her top. They wrapped their arms around one another, their naked bodies pressed together.
When they finally stopped, he was already getting hard again. “Get your pants on and go take a shower before either of our moms smells me on you!” he whispered, a grin on his face.
They kissed briefly again, and she was off, slipping out of his room throwing on pajamas in a rush. Malcolm lay back and stretched, his body buzzing with a profound sense of euphoria. He closed his eyes, the image of Wendy’s mouth on him blurring with the dream of his mom, his mind a perfect, happy storm of Melissa, Wendy, and Mom.

Malcolm - 5
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My world is built on shared desires and whispered sins. Now, I invite you to add to the silence. Leave a comment with your thoughts on the story, or offer something more forbidden: a true experience. Let me weave it into the life of a character, giving your secret a new voice. [email protected]