Fucked my Mother's Younger Sister, Who is my Aunt

Part 2: of what happened after around 2 years. I'm ashamed but it's life, i love this life

I never thought I would be the one writing this down. When he first told me he had written everythingwhen he handed me his version of our story, mesmerized by his aunt i read it with a pounding heart and a soaking wet pussy. But as I read his words, I realized something vital was missing. His story was one of youthful conquest, a boy fulfilling a fantasy. It lacked the raw, unfiltered truth of female depravity. It didn't capture the agonizing, beautiful descent of a woman who should have known better, but who embraced the filth because it was the only thing that made her feel alive.

He was nineteen then. Now, two years have passed, and he is twentyone. I am writing this second part because he asked for my perspective. But more than that, I am writing this because women need to hear this. They need to know that it is okay to crave the nasty, the kinky, the utterly taboo. We are taught to be pristine, to be mothers, to be dignified. But beneath this tanned, thickbodied, forty seven year old MILF exterior is a cunt that throbs for degradation, for the primal scent of sex, and for a thick, veiny cock that treats me like a piece of meat. This is my confession.

When my his dad left for Canada, the silence in our three-story house became deafening. I was a mother of four, carrying the weight of a household on my shoulders, feeling entirely undesirable. My body is thick my ass is heavy and round, my hips wide, my breasts heavy with the memory of nursing. My skin is a beautiful, brownish tanned tone, but beneath my clothes, my inner thighs and the folds of my pussy are a pale, creamy white. I felt invisible.

Then, my boy started looking at me. Not with the respectful avoidance of a boy toward his aunt, but with the blatant, hungry stare of a predator. I saw the way his eyes tracked the sway of my heavy ass when I walked to the kitchen. I saw the bulge in his pants when I bent over to pick up the toddlers' toys. He was a furnace of young lust, and the heat he radiated began to melt the frost that had settled over my marriage.

That night in January, when he stood at my door and asked if I was okay, the dam broke. But what he didn't tell you in his story is the specific, filthy nature of my surrender. It wasn't just the intimacy of his touch; it was the way he worshipped the parts of me that society tells women to hide.

I have to confess about my breasts. When he first pulled down my nightgown and took my heavy, pale nipple into his mouth, I thought I would die from the pleasure. He didn't just suck; he devoured me. He would latch onto my areolas, his cheeks hollowing out as he pulled the thick, sensitive flesh deep into his mouth. His tongue would lash against my nipple, rough and demanding. He would squeeze my tits together, burying his face in my cleavage, licking the sweat from the valley between them before sucking hard enough to leave dark purple hickeys on the pale skin. The direct line from my nipples to my clit is a live wire. I would feel his mouth on my tits, the wet, slurping sounds of his sucking, and my pussy would clench violently. I would cum just from him sucking my boobs. My hips would buck against nothing, my hairy mound grinding into the air as thick, hot juices spilled from my cunt, all while he nursed at my breasts like a starving man. It made me feel like a fertility goddess, a fertile, desirable woman whose body was a temple of pleasure.

But the deepest, most profound kink he unlocked within me was his obsession with my scent. Women are conditioned to be ashamed of our natural odors. We douche, we scrub, we perfume ourselves until we smell like flowers instead of human beings. But he destroyed that shame entirely. He loved my pussy smell. And I must be brutally honest about what that smell is. I am a busy mother. I don't always have the luxury of a long, perfumed shower before bed. Sometimes, when he pushes his face between my thick thighs, my pussy is hairy and unwashed. Sometimes, there is the sharp, pungent musk of dried arousal juices from grinding against the washing machine earlier in the day. Sometimes, there is the salty, tangy scent of sweat from running up and down the three flights of stairs in our house. And yes, sometimes, there is the faint, acrid odor of pissdrops I haven't quite wiped away, mixing with the dampness of my hairy mound.

It is a potent cocktail of sweat, piss, and arousal. And he was absolutely addicted to it. He would bury his nose right against my urethra, right where the scent of piss and sweat is strongest, and inhale so deeply his chest would expand. He would groan, his thick black cock twitching and leaking pre-cum just from the smell of my unwashed, mature cunt. "You smell like a real woman, Chiththi," he would whisper, his breath hot against my damp hairs. "You smell like you've been waiting to be fucked all day." That validation that my raw, dirty, unfiltered femininity was a powerful aphrodisiac cured a decade of marital insecurity. I felt like a young, desirable, primal woman again.

And oh, his cock. I have to confess what it does to my mind and my body. He is a phenomenally horny young man. He gets aroused instantly, his thick, black, girthy dick springing to attention with barely a touch. The shaft is heavily veined, the purple, bulging veins visible beneath the dark skin, pulsing with his rapid heartbeat. It is the kind of thick, meaty cock that makes a woman's jaw ache and her pussy stretch to the limit. It is a cock that commands worship. The moment I see it, hard and leaking, I want to drop to my knees and stuff it down my throat. He has the relentless stamina of youth. When he ejaculates, his cum is thick, heavy, and scalding hot, shooting in thick ropes that coat my insides. And he possesses a raw, masculine control over his bodily functions. He has the strength to ejaculate his thick cum and, moments later, unleash a hot, heavy stream of piss with that same thick cock. It is a primal display of dominance that I have grown to crave more than oxygen.

For a few months, we lived in our filthy little bubble. We fucked in the kitchen while the kids were in the home theatre. I would suck his cock under the dining table while he ate his breakfast. He would bend me over the balcony of the third floor, overlooking the garden, and pound my hairy, sweaty pussy until I screamed into my arm. But recklessness has consequences.

One night, the consequence walked right through my bedroom door.

It was late. The house was quiet. He had me face down on the mattress, my heavy ass high in the air. He was behind me, his thick, veiny cock sliding in and out of my soaking wet, hairy pussy. The room was filled with the wet, slapping sounds of his thighs against my thick ass and the squelching of my cunt. "Take it, Chiththi," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips so hard I knew there would be bruises the next day. "Take my thick dick." I was pushing back against him, my face buried in the pillows, my mind lost in the fog of a building orgasm.

Then, I heard a soft gasp.

I opened my eyes. My eldest daughter was standing in the doorway. She was nineteen at the time, the exact same age as him. She was wearing a thin, oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts. Her hand was frozen on the doorknob, her eyes wide with shock. But it wasn't the shock of disgust that I saw on her face.

The fear that gripped my heart was absolute. His dad was in Canada. If she told him, my life was over. The divorce would be brutal; he would take the kids, the house, everything. I would be branded a monster. I pulled forward, my pussy making a wet, sloppy popping sound as his thick cock slipped out of me. He groaned in frustration, his cock glistening with my juices, standing straight up, pulsing with need. I scrambled to pull the blanket over my naked body, my mind racing, panic seizing my throat.

But as I looked closer at my daughter, the panic shifted into something dark and twisted.

She wasn't looking at my face. She was staring at his cock. Her lips were parted, her chest heaving with shallow, rapid breaths. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide with pure, unadulterated lust. She was mesmerized by the sight of his thick, black, veiny shaft, slick with her mother's pussy juices.

I looked down at her shorts. The cotton fabric between her legs was soaked. It wasn't just a little damp; it was a dark, heavy patch of wetness. My daughter was standing there, practically dripping down her thighs, insanely horny from watching her cousin fuck her mother. She was wet, nasty, and hungry for it.

I knew right then that moral lectures or pleas for silence would fail. The only way to secure her silence was to bind her to our depravity. If she was a participant, she could never tell her father without destroying herself. She was a young woman, a girl who had only ever fumbled with boys her own age. She had never experienced a real man, a thick cock, or the raw, consuming worship that we engaged in. I was going to give her a taste of heaven, and in doing so, make her my accomplice.

She backed away slowly, retreating to her room. I waited a few minutes, my heart pounding, my own pussy still throbbing with unfulfilled need. I turned to him. "Stay here," I whispered. "I have to go to her."

I walked down the hall, my nightgown bunched in my hands, my hairy, wet pussy dripping down my inner thighs. I pushed open her door. She was lying in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, but I could hear her breathing ragged and uneven. I walked over and sat on the edge of her mattress.

"I saw you watching us," I said softly, my voice steady, though my heart was racing.

She froze. "Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.."

"Don't lie to me," I interrupted, my tone firm but gentle. "I saw your face. I saw your shorts." I reached out and pulled the blanket down. She resisted for a second, then let it go. I looked at her crotch. She had changed into fresh shorts, but even as I watched, a dark spot was blooming on the fabric. Her young cunt was leaking. "You are soaking wet right now, just from watching him."

She turned her face away, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I'm so ashamed," she whispered. "He was... you were... his dick was so thick. I couldn't stop looking. I'm sorry."

I reached out and placed my hand directly over her mound, feeling the heat and the dampness through her shorts. She flinched, gasping softly, but she didn't push me away. Her hips bucked almost imperceptibly against my palm.

"Don't be ashamed," I told her, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know exactly how you feel. I know you've been masturbating with your fingers, listening to us through the walls. I know you've been imagining what it would feel like to have him inside you."

She nodded slowly, her breath hitching. "It's so wrong," she breathed.

"Wrong feels good," I said. I leaned in closer, my lips near her ear, making sure my words sank into her soul. "Do you want to ride his dick? Rather than just rubbing your little clit with your fingers in the dark, do you want to feel that thick, black, veiny cock stretching your pussy open?"

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with shock and burning desire. "Can I?" she whispered, the desperation in her voice unmistakable.

"If you do," I said softly, "you can never tell your father. This stays between us. The three of us. You keep my secret, and I will make you cum harder than you ever have in your life."

"I won't tell," she promised immediately, her body trembling under my hand. "I swear, Mom, I won't tell. I want it. I want him."

I left her room and walked back to mine. He was still lying on my bed, slowly stroking his massive, hard cock, looking at me with a confused, lustful expression. "What happened?" he asked.

I climbed onto the bed and pushed his hand away, replacing it with my own. I squeezed his thick shaft, feeling the prominent veins pulsing under my fingers. "My daughter caught us," I said calmly. "She is wetter than I am. She wants to fuck you."

His eyes widened, and his cock jerked violently in my hand, leaking a drop of precum. "Are you serious?"

"Very," I said. "But to make sure she never tells my secret to her dad, I need you to do something for her. I need you to make her feel special. I want you to eat her pussy. Not just a little lick. I want you to spread her legs and eat her out so good that she forgets her own name. Make her squirt, make her scream. Claim her with your mouth."

He was incredibly hard. The thought of devouring my daughter was driving him wild. We got up and walked down the hall together. I opened her door. She was sitting up in bed, waiting. Her eyes locked onto his cock immediately. It was standing straight out from his body, thick, dark, and menacing, the veins bulging, the head slick with his arousal. She let out a soft, involuntary moan at the sight of it.

Without a word, I went to her and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Her young breasts were perky, her nipples hard as little pebbles. I hooked my thumbs into her shorts and pulled them down. Her pussy was completely bare, the lips swollen and glistening with her thick, white arousal. She was utterly, painfully beautiful in her youthful, desperate horniness.

He stepped forward and climbed onto the bed. "Lie back," he ordered, his voice deep and commanding.

She complied, lying back against the pillows, her chest heaving. He positioned himself between her legs. He grabbed her knees and pushed them apart, spreading her wide open, exposing her pink, dripping young cunt to his gaze. He looked at her, then up at me, a wicked smile on his face. Then, he dove in.

He didn't start slow. He attacked her pussy with the same ferocious hunger he showed mine. He licked her from her perineum all the way up to her clit, lapping up her thick, white juices. He sucked her clit into his mouth, tonguing it rapidly while his fingers spread her lips apart.

My daughter’s hands flew to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Oh god, yes," she moaned, her back arching off the bed. "Oh my god, that feels so good."

I sat beside them on the bed, watching he devour my daughter. I slipped my hand between my own legs, pushing my fingers into my hairy, wet pussy, fingering myself as I watched the obscene scene unfold. He was relentless. He pushed his tongue deep inside her vaginal canal, tongue-fucking her, his nose pressed against her clit. He spread her legs even wider, pushing her knees back toward her chest, opening her up completely. He licked her asshole, teasing the rim, before dragging his tongue back up to her clit, sucking it hard.

She was losing her mind. Her body was trembling violently, her legs shaking uncontrollably. "I'm going to... oh god, something is happening," she cried out, her voice high and thin.

He didn't stop. He sucked her clit harder, his fingers pumping in and out of her slick hole. The pleasure overtook her completely. She screamed, her body going rigid, and then she erupted. A massive gush of fluid sprayed from her pussy, soaking his face, his hair, his chest. But the intensity of her orgasm caused her to lose control of her bladder. Mixed with the clear squirt was a heavy, hot stream of yellow piss. She was squirting and pissing all over his face at the same time.

I expected him to pull away in disgust. But he didn't. He opened his mouth wide, letting the hot, salty mixture of her squirt and piss splash onto his tongue. He gulped it down eagerly, his throat working to swallow it all. He drank her fluids like it was trophy juice, a prize he had won for making her feel so good. He moaned loudly as he swallowed, his cock twitching violently against the mattress.

The sheer depravity of it seeing this young man drink her squirt and hot piss like a reward made my daughter feel incredibly special. It was a level of total, unconditional acceptance she had never experienced. He didn't judge her; he consumed her. She was whimpering, her body going limp, completely bonded to him in that moment.

Once she was spent and trembling, she looked down at his rock-hard, throbbing cock. The need in her eyes was overwhelming. She wanted it badly. She practically begged. "Please," she whispered, reaching out to touch his thick, veiny shaft. "I want it inside me."

I nodded my permission, taking control once more. "Get on top of him," I instructed.

He lay back on the bed, his massive black cock pointing at the ceiling. My daughter climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She was so small compared to his thick frame. She positioned her wet, bare pussy over the head of his dick. She slowly lowered herself down. I watched, mesmerized, as her tight, pink lips stretched obscenely around his thick, black girth. She took him raw, inch by inch, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure and pain.

Once he was fully inside her, she paused, getting used to the thickness. Then, she started to ride him. She rode him with the desperate, wild energy of a girl who had just experienced the best head of her life. Her hips bucked, her tight ass slapping against his thighs. The room was filled with the wet, slapping sounds of her riding him bareback, her slick juices coating his veiny shaft, making it glisten.

He grabbed her hips, guiding her pace, thrusting up to meet her, driving his thick cock deep into her young, unprotected cunt. "You're so fucking tight," he groaned, spanking her ass. "Ride that dick."

When I saw him getting close his jaw clenching, his breathing becoming ragged, his hips thrusting up faster—I knew I had to guide her to the next level. I moved closer, pulling her gently by the shoulders. "Get off," I instructed softly but firmly. "He's going to cum."

She was lost in the pleasure, but she obeyed, reluctantly lifting herself off his dick. His cock popped out, completely drenched in her thick, white pussy juices, his own pre-cum mixing with it, the shaft pulsing, angry, and desperate for release.

"Now, suck it," I told her, guiding her head down toward his slick, throbbing shaft. "Taste yourself on him. Taste your pussy and his pre-cum. Swallow his cum."

She didn't hesitate. She lowered her mouth onto his cock, taking his thick, black, veiny dick deep into her throat. She sucked her own arousal juices off his girth, her tongue tracing the prominent veins, lapping up the filthy mixture of their combined fluids. The sight of my nineteen-year-old daughter sucking her own juices off her cousin's thick cock was the most beautiful, nasty thing I had ever seen.

It only took a few seconds of her hot, wet mouth. He groaned loudly, grabbing the back of her head, holding her down. "I'm cumming," he roared. He erupted, shooting thick, hot ropes of his young cum deep into her throat. I watched my daughter's cheeks bulge as she struggled to swallow it all. She choked slightly but gamely gulped it down, swallowing every drop of his thick, hot load, just as he had gulped down hers.

When he finally released her, she sat back, wiping her mouth, her eyes glazed with the aftermath of a profound orgasmic high. But I knew my daughter. I knew the guilt of incest and infidelity might creep in once the high faded. I needed to show her the ultimate level of commitment, the most depraved act I could think of, to prove to her that there was no turning back from this. I needed to show her that we were utterly and completely his, that our taboos had no boundaries.

I pushed her gently aside and took her place between his legs. His cock was now semi-flaccid, covered in a mix of his thick cum and her saliva. It looked deflated but still incredibly thick. I took it into my mouth without a second thought. I sucked his flaccid dick, cleaning it thoroughly, tasting the salty mix of my daughter's pussy, his cum, and their sweat. I felt him relax, letting go of his control, his body surrendering to my mouth.

Then, I looked up, making direct eye contact with my daughter. She was watching me, her eyes still wide, her breath shallow. I kept my mouth wrapped tightly around his shaft, forming a perfect seal with my lips against his skin. I waited.

And then, I felt it. The hot, heavy stream of his piss started flowing into my mouth. It was pungent, salty, and scalding hot. He was relieving himself directly down my throat. I didn't flinch. I didn't spill a drop. I sucked the piss directly from his cock, swallowing it down my throat, drinking his urine as he emptied his bladder into my mouth.

My daughter watched, her mouth hanging open in absolute shock and awe. She saw her mother, a respected woman of the house, on her knees, drinking a young man's hot piss like it was fine wine. I drank it all, the hot, acrid fluid warming my belly, sealing our pact in the most primal way possible. When the stream slowed to a trickle, I gently licked the tip of his cock clean, savoring the last drops of his piss and cum.

By doing that in front of her, I proved that there was no boundary I wouldn't cross for him, and by extension, for the secret we shared. She knew then that she could never confess to her father without exposing herself and me to a level of perversion that would destroy us all. We were bound together now, the three of us, in a web of nasty, kinky love.

Two years have passed since that night. He is twenty-one now, even more muscular, his thick, veiny cock even more demanding and dominant. My daughter and I still share him. Our nights are a blur of tangled limbs, heavy scents, and forbidden fluids. We share his thick, hot cum, sometimes snowballing it between our mouths before swallowing. And often, after he has fucked us raw and dumped his load inside us, we share his hot piss, kneeling side by side, our mouths open, letting him relieve himself all over our faces and tongues.

I am writing this confession because I want other women to know that this life exists. It is filthy, it is taboo, and it is the most profoundly satisfying existence I have ever known. I am a mother, a aunt, a wife in name only, but in the shadows of my home, I am a goddess of depravity, worshipped by a thick, black, veiny cock and the mouths of my own flesh and blood. I am not ashamed. I am alive. And I would drink his piss a thousand times over just to feel this young, this desired, and this disgustingly, beautifully fulfilled. Also i was never into piss, cum: a big yes. Piss lover.. because of him.