Hi, my name is Roolk Bennett. I am 20 years old, 5'8" with light black hair and a slim build, the kind of frame that slips easily into shadows or, as I prefer, into silk and lace. My hair's always been a bit of a mess, falling just past my ears in soft, uneven waves that I've never bothered to tame. I am currently in university, slogging through late-night study sessions and endless lectures, and still live with my parents in their cramped, beige-walled suburban house. Let's just say that neither they nor I are particularly fond of that fact--Mom's tired sighs over dinner and Dad's gruff "When you moving out?" remarks hang in the air like stale smoke, while I dream of a dorm room or an apartment where I can lock the door and be whoever I want.
My mother is Skye Bennett. She is 46 years old, 5 feet 5 inches tall, with black hair and a 36C cup size, her figure still curved in a way that turns heads at the grocery store. Her hair's a glossy cascade, always swept back with a clip or left loose to frame her sharp cheekbones, and her hazel eyes catch the light just so. I am aware of her cup size because I have been trying on her lingerie, bras, panties, tops, and dresses since I was a child, sneaking into her room when I was barely tall enough to reach her dresser drawers. I enjoyed dressing up in my mother's clothes and feeling sexy when everyone else in the house was away, twirling in front of her full-length mirror, the rustle of satin against my skin drowning out the world outside.
My aunt, Daisy Bennett, is my father's sister. She's 39 years old, stands 5'7" tall, and has brunette hair that falls in loose, effortless curls down her back. With a great physique and a 36B cup size, she radiates confidence, her posture straight and her stride purposeful, like she's always on her way to conquer something. Since the tragic passing of my uncle in an accident a year ago--a rainy night, a slick road, and a truck that didn't stop--Daisy has found strength in reinventing herself, shedding the quiet widow's shell for a bolder, brighter version. She dove into learning the art of makeup, her nimble fingers mastering brushes and palettes, and now has her sights set on building a successful career in the salon industry, dreaming of her own little shop with a neon sign out front. She is a pretty fun-loving person, her laugh loud and infectious, and always encouraged me to explore life, have fun and go on adventures, tossing me winks and wild ideas like road trips or sneaking into concerts.
My aunt and my Mom were close, thick as thieves since I was a kid. My mom would let my aunt put on makeup on her and encourage her in her career pursuit, sitting patiently in the kitchen while Daisy experimented with smoky eyes or bold reds, the two of them giggling over wine. I was always jealous in this matter, hovering in the doorway, watching their easy bond and wishing I could join in, brush in hand, instead of just eavesdropping on their laughter.
Now, to the time where my time turned around, it was March, the air crisp with that early spring bite, and my mother's side of relatives had a family gathering to which my parents were attending to, a noisy affair upstate with cousins and casseroles. I couldn't go as it was exam season in 10 days, my desk buried under textbooks and highlighters, but the real reason is that I would love some alone time to spend with my mom's delicate, sweet sweet, silk and lace garments and makeup, a secret stash I'd memorized down to the last thread.
I often had wet dreams about my aunt and how I would love to fuck her, her body a vision in my restless sleep--long legs, soft curves, that teasing smile. She always wore delicate, elegant clothes like pantsuits and sundresses, tailored blazers that hugged her waist or floral skirts that danced in the breeze. I always wanted to try her clothes on but never had the chance to, her apartment a distant temptation I'd yet to breach.
On the first day my parents left, their car rumbling out of the driveway just past dawn, I quickly locked all the doors to make sure even if they came back, I would have time, double-checking the deadbolts with a jittery thrill. I don't just like women's underwear--I crave the intimacy of it, the forbidden rush. I love it even more when it is worn and not washed, the faint musk of skin clinging to the fabric like a whispered secret. I love the fact that my dick is where her pussy was in, the thought alone enough to make my pulse race. I like to sniff worn underwear while masturbating, letting the scent flood my senses as I lose myself. I went into the bathroom and found some used pair that was in the laundry bag, a crumpled heap of cotton and lace tucked beneath a towel, but before slipping them on, I took my mom's razor, its pink handle cool in my grip, and shaved my body clean everything eyebrows down, the blade gliding over my legs, arms, and chest until I was smooth as glass.
Then I slipped on the teal lace panty that was in the laundry basket, worn by mom, merely 2 hours ago, still warm with her presence, the delicate edges hugging my hips. This excited me and I started to stroke my now erect cock, standing there in the bathroom's dim light, the tiles cold under my bare feet. It took me about 5 minutes to climax and then I cleaned up, wiping away the evidence with a trembling hand. I then put on a matching padded bra and stuffed socks in them, the weight a clumsy mimicry of Mom's curves. I wore a black polka-dot button-up blouse, its fabric soft against my skin, and wore a teal skirt that came up to my knees, the hem swaying as I moved. I loved the look and put on some wig and makeup, a cheap blonde bob from a thrift store and Mom's cherry-red lipstick, smearing it on with unsteady fingers.
I decided to spend the rest of the day in the same outfit as I had no other work outside the house, lounging on the couch, the TV droning faintly in the background. Then, I got a call from my mom checking in on how I was doing, her voice crackling through the line, and informed me that my aunt needed a specific makeup kit for practice and she would pick it up from our house in the morning, a sleek black case I'd seen Daisy tote around. This got me thinking, "My aunt is an adventurous person, should I tell her about my crossdressing secret?"--her free spirit flashing in my mind like a dare. I came up with a plan and couldn't wait to execute it; tomorrow can't come soon enough.
I woke up in a pink satin nighty I'd "borrowed" from my mother. The morning sun filtering through my curtains stirred me with endless possibilities.
Before my aunt arrived, I got dressed in my own clothes, returning all the clothes I'd taken from my mom's closet. Well, almost everything - except the teal panty. I just wanted to feel the thrill of wearing my aunt's sister's dirty underwear without her knowledge.
I placed the makeup kit she needed on the dining table following my mother's instructions. HEHE, I'd know my way around my mom's room even in the dark.
As I ate my breakfast cereal, I turned on the TV, flicking through channels. Once I finished, the doorbell rang. Composing myself for a moment, I went to open the door.
"Hey, Roolk!" Daisy exclaimed, her usual bright smile illuminating her face.
"Hey, Aunt Daisy. Come on in. I've got the kit right here," I said, gesturing her inside.
She stepped in, taking a look around.
"Thank your mom for holding onto it for me, and thank you for finding it," she said as she picked up the kit.
Believe me, I didn't have to look far to find it, I thought, smiling at what my aunt was saying.
About 15 minutes into the conversation, I thought, This is the perfect time to execute my plan. I began asking her about her work, to which she replied, "It's tough without a real person to practice on, especially with how busy your mom has been lately. Without practice, I haven't been able to improve and get more clients."
There, she took the bait. I thought.
"Is it that essential to practice on real people?" I asked innocently.
"Oh, yes. Practicing on real people makes a huge difference. It's the only way to really hone my skills... I would love to have someone to just practice on, not to show my work, just practice," Aunt Daisy said.
This was my chance. "Do you think I can help in any way?" I asked.
"I'm not sure how you could help me," she replied, sounding a bit confused.
"I mean, you could practice on my face, right?" I asked, hesitating a little.
My aunt paused for a moment. "Umm... yeah, but--"
"If it will actually help you, I'm willing to do it. But only if it stays between us," I said, feeling a little nervous about how she might react.
"Actually, that's not a bad idea. But are you sure?" she asked.
"I'll pretend it's just drama class. I'm only doing it for you, since you said this will help," I explained.
"Okay, that actually works. Do you want to do it here or at my place?" she asked.
"Here is fine. But no photos, and just so you know, you'll owe me one, Aunt Daisy," I said, trying to act reluctant.
My plan was going well, I thought.
My aunt worked on my face for about an hour. During those 45 minutes, I took every opportunity to sneak peeks at my aunt's ass and her cleavage as she wore a sundress.
She admired her work on me and said, "Everything looks great, but with a wig, it would be perfect."
I screamed inside but acted like I didn't like the idea, nodding my head in disapproval.
"You said I could use your head. Come on, Roolk, it's just us here - help your poor aunt out," she said.
I agreed reluctantly, or at least, that's how I wanted it to seem.
She put on a brown wig and styled it, and I looked almost like my mother. My aunt was really a professional. Even though I'd learned a lot about doing my makeup from tutorial videos, I was never this good. I really looked like a girl. I was so hard, but thanks to my black sweatpants, my aunt couldn't see it.
"You look exactly like your mother!" She exclaimed.
"I do, don't I? You really worked well on the makeup, Aunt Daisy," I said.
"Aren't you sweet. Thank you nephew, or should I say niece?" she chuckled and then saw the clock and realized she had a dental appointment and hurried to leave.
"I have to leave, honey. I will send you some tutorials on how to remove the makeup, and you saw how I applied the wig right? I assume you can take your wig out. Sorry to leave in such a hurry," she said as she packed the makeup kit and her bag.
I helped her with her bags to the door and she kissed me on the cheek and gave me a hug, saying, "Thank you for helping me out today, I really hope you had fun as well, and I hope this is not our last practice session together," She said.
"You're welcome, Aunt Daisy. Anything to help you, text me next time you want to practice and remember not a word to my parents." I said to act like I didn't love today.
She left and I couldn't have been luckier. I still had my makeup and wig on and I looked like my mother's twin. I went into my mother's room to wear her clothes and pretend I am her and jerk off. I wore a sexy white lingerie set but the panty was a matching satin short skirt. I started to move my finger like I was rubbing a pussy, imagining my mother and started to stroke after 5 minutes and as I was looking in the mirror seeing my mom's face which is actually mine and started to stroke aggressively and as I was cumming, I was moaning like how I imagine my mom would and climaxed on my hand and some on the floor. I had never had an orgasm like that.
I cleaned up and was excited to further execute my plan with my Aunt.
The next morning, my phone buzzed with a text from Aunt Daisy. "Hey, Roolk! I'd love to practice again today. Can you come to my place this time? Around 2? Got some new techniques to try." My heart beat fast--this was another shot at my secret hobby. I texted back, "Sure, I'll swing by," acting like it was no big deal.
By noon, the sky got dark, and when I stepped outside, rain started hitting my hoodie. I muttered under my breath, pulling the hood up, but the rain just got worse. When I made it to Aunt Daisy's doorstep, I was a mess--water ran off my hair, soaked my jeans, and got into my underwear. I rang the bell, cold and wet all over.
"Roolk! Oh my gosh, you're drenched!" Aunt Daisy said, opening the door. She had on a purple shirt and white pants, her hair tied up loose. "Get in here before you catch a cold!"
"Sorry," I said low, stepping in and peeling off my wet hoodie. My t-shirt stuck to me, and my jeans felt like a heavy sponge.
"Let's get you dry," she said, walking me to the living room. "Wait here--I'll grab a towel." She hurried off, leaving me by her light couch. When she came back with a big towel, she looked me over and frowned. "Those clothes are done for. You can't sit in them all day."
"Yeah, they're gross," I said, rubbing my hair with the towel. "Got anything dry I can use?"
She stopped, shifting a little. "Well... here's the thing. I, um... after your uncle died, I tossed all his stuff. It was too tough to keep around. So... I've only got my clothes." Her voice sounded shaky. "I mean, I don't know if that's... weird for you?"
I raised an eyebrow, heart going quick but staying chill. "Your clothes? For real?"
"I know, I know," she said fast, hands waving. "It's not great. I just--well, there's nothing else. But if it's too funny, we could... I don't know, figure it out? Maybe dry yours instead?"
"That'd take ages," I said, glancing at my soggy jeans. "But women's stuff? Come on, Aunt Daisy, that's pushing it."
She chewed her lip, unsure. "Yeah, I get it. It's not normal. I just thought--well, you're wet, and I don't want you stuck like that. Maybe something basic? Nothing too... fancy or anything?"
I sighed loud, dragging it out. "I dunno. It's odd. You sure there's nothing else?"
"Unless you wanna roll up in a blanket like a burrito," she said with a small laugh, "this is it. Look, I could grab something simple. Pants and a shirt? No big deal."
I scratched my neck, acting unsure while my brain yelled yes. "Fine. But nothing crazy. I'm not strutting around in a dress or whatever."
She nodded, smiling. "Okay, good. Let me find something. Stay put." She ran off, and I stood there, pulse fast, secretly happy about wearing her stuff. She came back with a few things, spreading them on the couch. "Alright, pick--blue stretchy pants and a short gray shirt, or black leggings and a long top. And, uh... some plain underwear. Blue or white. Nothing wild."
I checked out the stack, the blue underwear catching my eye--soft, basic, hers. "Uh... I guess the stretchy pants and the short shirt. And the blue one, maybe," I said, sounding gruff like I didn't care. "Where do I change?"
"Bathroom's that way, first door on the left," she said, pointing. "I'll get the makeup ready."
In the bathroom, I pulled off my wet stuff, the soggy underwear coming off slow. I slipped on the blue underwear, the feel cool and fun, then tugged on the stretchy pants--tight, hugging my legs--and the short shirt, leaving a bit of my stomach out. I peeked in the mirror, grinning. Plain, but it scratched that itch.
Back in the living room, Aunt Daisy looked up and smiled. "Looks good! You seem comfy. Ready to help me out again?"
"Yeah, let's do it," I said, dropping into her chair by the window. Rain smacked the glass as she started, brushes moving over my face. She chatted about shading stuff, and I nodded, sneaking looks at her. After a while, she stepped back, happy.
"Roolk, you're Skye all over again. Check it out!" She handed me a mirror. I looked--sharp cheeks, big eyes, shiny lips. Mom's twin, no doubt.
"Guess you're pretty good," I said, keeping it light even though I was buzzing.
She laughed, then tilted her head, staring. "You know... since you're in my clothes already, it's kinda funny how much you're like Skye. I've got this yellow sundress--light, flowy, totally her vibe. What if we went big? Dressed you like her?"
I snorted, shaking my head. "No way. This is plenty, Aunt Daisy."
"Come on," she teased, nudging me. "It's just us! You're halfway there--why not mess around? I've got a red lace thong and a bra to match. It'd be a laugh!"
"Absolutely not," I shot back, arms crossed. "I'm not your dress-up toy. Stretchy pants are one thing--a dress? A thong? Nope." Inside, I was dying to agree, picturing that lace on me.
She pouted, playful but not giving up. "Oh, come on? You've got the makeup, and the wig's next. It's like a costume! No one's gonna know. You'd be doing me a solid--think of it as helping my ideas."
I groaned, stretching it out. "You're nuts. I'm not putting on a bra and thong. That's way too much."
"Okay, okay," she said, easing off. "Just the dress then? Or... fine, what would you even think about?"
I waited, then muttered, "If I did this--and I'm not saying I will--do I really need the bra and thong? Isn't that over the top?"
She grinned, seeing an opening. "Not over the top! It's the whole deal. But if you're shy, skip 'em. Though... the bra'd make the dress sit right. And the thong's just cozy--trust me."
"Cozy?" I laughed. "You're not winning me over. I'd look dumb."
"You'd look like Skye," she said, eyes shining. "Come on, Roolk. Have some fun. Try it for five minutes, then switch back if you hate it."
I sighed, real dramatic. "Fine. But I'm not thrilled. And if it's stupid, I'm done." She clapped, excited, and dashed off for the outfit. She came back with the sundress, the red thong, and the bra, holding them up like a win.
"Go change," she said, pushing me along. In the bathroom, I stared at the red lace. "This is crazy," I mumbled, but slid the thong on anyway, the feel light and wild. I fixed the bra, stuffing it with tissue, then pulled the sundress on. It swung around my knees, soft and girly. I got worked up fast, the thrill hitting hard, but the dress covered it--mostly.
Back in the living room, Aunt Daisy gasped. "Roolk! You're Skye 2.0! Hold on--wig time." She fixed the brown wig quick, stepping back to look. "Perfect. You're her twin."
"Yeah, whatever," I said, shifting around, hoping she didn't notice anything. "You happy now?"
"Super happy," she said, then glanced outside. "It's still pouring. No point in you heading home yet. Why not stay over? We'll watch movies, hang out--sound okay?"
"Stay?" I said, brain spinning. Me, in her dress, her house, all night. "Uh... sure, I guess. If it's fine with you."
"Totally fine," she said, not catching the mess in my head--or anywhere else. "I'll grab blankets. You pick a movie."
As she moved around, I stood there, tense under the sundress, wondering what might happen. Would I spill my secret? Would she guess? Would something spark in the dark? The rain kept going, and the night stretched out, wide open.
The rain had slowed to a light drip outside Aunt Daisy's living room. The TV glowed soft, throwing shadows over us as we sat on her gray couch. A bowl of popcorn sat half-eaten, ignored, and Daisy was on her third glass of wine, her face pink, her laughs too loud at the rom-com's silly lines. I still had on the yellow sundress she'd talked me into, the red lace thong and bra sticking to me, a secret buzz I hid by slumping back with a soda can. The room smelled like butter and her lavender candle, keeping us cozy.
"You're a hoot in that dress, Roolk," Daisy said, laughing as she pulled her legs up. "You've got Skye's whole thing--her attitude, her grins. It's like she's here."
I grinned, leaning back, the wig's curls tickling my neck. "Guess I'm good at it. Must've got Mom's charm." And her taste in lace, I thought, the thong's light hold firing me up inside.
We talked over the movie--she mumbled about wanting a salon, I dodged girlfriend talk with quick jokes about school. "You're too cute to be single," she teased, poking me with her foot. I laughed, but inside I was buzzing--cute, huh? Wait till you see what's under here.
When the movie ended, she stretched, yawning. "Another one? I'm not done yet." Her green flowery dress slid up her leg, and I snuck a peek before looking back at the screen. "Sure," I said, grabbing the remote. "You pick."
She went for a goofy horror movie, and soon we were cracking up at the fake blood, her wine-loose self scooting closer till her head landed on my shoulder. "You're comfy," she mumbled, her breath sharp with wine. I let her stay, her heat coming through the thin dress. Just hanging out, I told myself. No big deal.
Then it hit--my dick moved, getting hard against the lace, bumping her hip as she shifted. She tensed, and my heart raced. She knows. But she didn't budge, didn't say a word, just breathed quicker. Maybe the wine, or something else, kept her there. I tried it out, moving my hips a little, rubbing against her butt. She let out a soft breath, and I went further, my hand sliding up her side, then grabbing her chest through her dress. A quiet "Roolk..." came out, sloppy and unsure. I stopped, but she didn't move away, and that was my sign.
"I shouldn't," she whispered, voice shaky as I squeezed her chest, thumb rubbing her nipple. "You're... my nephew." It was a weak fight, lost in the heat growing between us. I pressed more, my hard-on strong against her, and her body gave in, the doubt turning into a shake.
"It's fine," I said low, easy and smooth. "Just us." My hand lifted her dress, fingers brushing her leg, then moving up. She opened her legs a bit, and I knew she was in.
What came next was 25 minutes of messy, wild want--our bodies tangled up, moving fast and needy, the red lace thong never coming off, just pulled down to my knees, the bra still on me. I yanked her dress off, her bra and underwear hitting the floor as she messed with my sundress, tugging it over my head to show my chest, the red lace standing out. She paused, eyes flicking over it, but want beat her worry.
She started on her knees, bold from the wine, hands wobbly as she grabbed me through the thong's stretched fabric. "This is nuts," she mumbled, but her mouth opened, and she took me in, slow at first, then more, her tongue moving as I groaned, hands grabbing her hair. The thong hung at my knees, the bra's straps digging in as I pushed a little, her warm wet mouth driving me crazy. She pulled back, breathing hard, then used her hand, stroking me steady and slow, her thumb playing at the top till I was gasping, hips jerking.
"Lie back," I said rough, pushing her onto the couch. She did it, legs opening as I got between them, the thong still at my knees. I spread her thighs, going down to taste her--salty, wet, strong. My tongue flicked her spot, then went deeper, her moans getting loud as she grabbed my wig, hips pushing against my face. "Roolk--fuck," she gasped, shaking as I licked and sucked, her wet coating my chin.
"Yes baby, that's it, suck your auntie's pussy," she said, moaning.
I climbed up, leaning over her, the thong's lace brushing her leg as I slid in, slow at first, feeling how tight she was. She arched, nails in my back, the bra's padding jiggling a bit as I moved. "This is wrong," she whimpered, but her legs hooked around me, pulling me in more. I went at her like that--straight on, steady, her chest bouncing--then turned her over, lifting her hips. From behind, I went harder, skin smacking loud, her yells quiet in a pillow. The thong dangled at my knees, the bra's straps tight as I held her waist, pushing deep.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck your Aunt Daisy, fuc--" Aunt Daisy screamed in pleasure, which was music to my ears.
She twisted, shoving me down, climbing on top. "My turn," she slurred, sliding onto me, moving sloppy and fast. Her hands pressed my chest, fingers brushing the bra's lace, and I pushed up to match her, the couch creaking. She leaned in, kissing me--wine and salt on her tongue--then sat back, grinding till her breath caught, a quick "Oh God" as she tightened around me, shaking through her finish.
I flipped her again, onto her back, putting her legs on my shoulders. The thong hung loose, the bra's cups shifting as I slammed in, chasing my own end. Her hands moved over my chest, pulling at the bra straps, her eyes on mine--guilty, crazy, gone. "Roolk--please," she begged, and I pulled out, rubbing myself fast over her stomach, finishing in thick spurts across her skin as I groaned, legs weak. The thong stayed at my knees, the bra still on, my body sweaty and proud.
We flopped down, breathing hard, her staring up, me next to her, softening but still framed by the red lace. "What the hell did we just do?" she whispered, voice rough, her hand on my leg--unsure, warm.
I turned, catching my breath. "I've wanted this forever, Daisy. Years." The truth came out, big and real.
Her eyes got wide. "Years? You're serious?" Surprise, but no mad.
"Every dirty dream, every time I saw you--it was you," I said, watching her take it in.
She blinked, then sighed. "I shouldn't have let this happen. But... I did. I'm not mad." A quiet bit, then a spark--maybe wondering. "We're already here."
She got on me again, slower, guiding me in. We went at it once more, softer--her moving on top, the thong still at my knees, bra shifting with each rock of her hips. She finished quiet, a little shake, and I did too, letting go inside her, the lace brushing her legs. She didn't get off, just pulled a blanket over us, my dick still in her as she mumbled, "Stay there." I pulled the thong back up, the bra snug, and we curled up, her breath warm on my neck as we fell asleep.
Perfect, I thought, smug and done. My plan, my way--her, me, this. The rain tapped on, and the night took us in.
Rain pattered gently on Aunt Daisy's windows, a dull gray quiet blanketing her place that Monday morning--the day after our reckless night. I woke sprawled across her worn gray couch, the yellow sundress bunched high around my hips like a crumpled flag of last night's chaos. The red lace thong dug into my skin, tight and unyielding, while the bra straps bit my shoulders, a constant reminder of how deep we'd plunged.
Aunt Daisy lay curled beside me under a flimsy blanket, her green dress a wrinkled pile on the floor, her bare leg draped over mine--warm, solid, pressing close. The air hung thick--stale popcorn, sour wine, and our raw, sweaty scent mingling. My dick stirred, half-hard just from her nearness, and I couldn't resist the pull. I propped myself on an elbow, easing my hand beneath the blanket, tracing slow, lazy swirls up her thigh. Her skin felt soft, still toasty from sleep, and I grinned, sly as ever, leaning in to kiss her neck--a soft nibble first, then a wet, hungry press, tasting her faint saltiness.
She shifted, a sleepy hum rumbling low.
"Morning, Aunt Daisy," I whispered.
She stirred again.
"Mmm, Roolk..." she murmured, eyes closed, her voice groggy but edging into heat.
"You feel so good," I said, sucking gently, my tongue grazing her pulse like I owned it.
My fingers wandered higher, brushing her curves, and I rocked my hips against her leg--the thong's lace teasing my cock, that friction sparking sharp.
"Roolk--what's this?" she mumbled.
"Just waking you up," I rasped, kissing harder, trailing up her jaw to her earlobe, nipping soft as my hand gripped her hip, tugging her nearer.
She arched slightly, breath catching.
"God, you're sneaky," she breathed.
"Love it when you squirm," I smirked into her skin--she looked stunning like this, all loose and open.
My hand slipped between her thighs, teasing slow, feeling her tense then soften as I rubbed through her drowsy haze.
"Roolk, you--" she started.
"Shh, just feel it," I cut in, my dick rigid now, straining the lace.
I pressed against her, greedy, kissing down her collarbone, leaving a mark just to hear her sharp gasp.
"Oh--fuck," she gasped.
"Like that?" I teased.
"Roolk, what're you--" she began, but I silenced her with a deep, messy kiss, tongue sliding over hers until she moaned into me, her hands fumbling to clutch my arms.
"Mmm--Roolk," she moaned.
"Got you now," I pulled back, grinning wickedly, and rasped, "Morning, Aunt Daisy," my voice rough with tease.
Her green eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, then sharpening as they flicked down to me--still wrapped in that sundress and bra.
"Oh heavens," she groaned.
"Still sexy, huh?" I said.
Her hips nudged toward my hand anyway, her body betraying her mind's flicker of doubt.
"You're too much," she muttered.
I didn't ease up, rubbing her steady and firm until she squirmed, breaths quick and uneven.
"Fuck--Roolk," she panted.
"Love hearing that," I grinned.
"You're trouble," she muttered, but she didn't push me away--instead, her hand slid down, tugging the thong aside, fingers grazing my cock before wrapping tight.
"Oh shit--Aunt Daisy," I groaned loud, rocking into her grip.
"Got you now," she smirked, half-awake but cunning.
"Alright, you lit the fuse, you little rascal," she said.
She slid lower, the blanket slipping off like it was nothing, and before I could catch my breath, her mouth was on me--hot, wet, pure bliss.
"Fuck--yes," I hissed.
Her tongue danced around the tip, slow and taunting.
"Tease me more," I begged.
Then she took me deeper, lips stretching as she moved, her hand working what she couldn't reach.
"Fuck, Aunt Daisy--yes, like that," I moaned, tangling my fingers in her hair, hips jerking as she sucked harder.
"You're so hard," she mumbled around me.
"Keep going--fuck," I growled, her eyes catching mine, glinting with mischief and fire.
Spit trickled down her chin, and she hummed, the buzz ripping through me.
"Mmm--love that," I said.
Five minutes--her tongue hitting just right, her hand twisting smooth--and I lost it.
"Aunt Daisy--I'm--" I groaned her name like a prayer as I came, pulsing hard into her mouth.
She swallowed, pulled back gasping.
"Fuck--that's hot," I panted.
"Breakfast starter, huh?" she teased, wiping her lips with a smirk, voice husky.
I laughed, shaky and drained, sinking back into the couch.
"Damn right," I chuckled.
We shuffled to the kitchen after--she grabbed a loose robe off a chair, me still in the sundress, too lazy to shed it and loving the feel. Coffee bubbled, toast popped, and we sat at her small table, rain tapping outside like a nagging whisper. She poked her food, brow creased deep.
"Roolk, last night--we can't keep this up," she said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"It's wrong," she snapped.
"Really?" I raised a brow.
"You're my nephew, for Pete's sake," she added, her tone cut sharp, guilt threading through.
But her gaze kept drifting to my chest, where the bra peeked out like a bold little secret.
"Didn't feel wrong last night," I shrugged, chewing toast, keeping it light.
"Roolk--" she started.
"Didn't feel wrong when you were shouting my name, Aunt Daisy," I cut in.
She blushed hard, swatting my arm playfully.
"Don't be smug," she huffed.
"Hard not to," I grinned.
"I was drunk," she said.
"So?" I shrugged.
"And you--you're too darn tempting strutting around like that," she added.
"Glad you think so," I leaned back, grinning slow.
"So? We had a blast," I said.
"No one's gotta know," I added.
She shook her head, firm as stone.
"No, it's messed up," she insisted.
"C'mon--" I pressed.
"We're done, Roolk," she cut me off.
"That's it," she finished.
I chewed slower, mind racing wild. Eight days 'til Mom and Dad came back--eight golden days in this house, her wardrobe, her world. No chance I'd let that slide.
"Okay, how's this," I said, sipping coffee casual-like.
"What now?" she sighed.
"You need a model for your makeup gig, right?" I asked.
"Yeah..." she trailed.
"I'll do it--every day 'til they're home," I offered.
"Roolk--" she started.
"Full deal--wigs, dresses, heels, all in," I continued.
"You're joking," she said.
"I'll pick the stuff myself, really get into it," I added.
"Seriously?" she blinked.
"But we keep hooking up," I finished.
"Fair?" I smirked.
She stared, jaw clenched tight.
"Roolk, that's crossing a line," she said.
"Nah, it's a swap," I tapped the table, smirking.
"You owe me a favor--remember that promise?" I reminded.
"Oh lord--" she groaned.
"I'm cashing it now," I said.
Her eyes narrowed, but I caught the spark--she was hooked, teetering.
"You're serious?" she asked.
"Yep," I nodded.
"Every day, no whining?" she pressed.
"Yeah, if it helps you," I nodded, faking a scowl.
"Not thrilled about it, Aunt Daisy," I lied.
Total bullshit--I'm buzzing inside; her closet's my candy store.
She sighed, long and heavy, rubbing her temples.
"Lord help me, Roolk," she muttered.
"Fine," she gave in.
"But no one knows--ever," she warned.
"Deal," I grinned.
"And you're all in, no shortcuts," she added.
I stuck out my hand, grinning big.
"Deal, Aunt Daisy," I said.
"I'm yours now," I winked.
We hit her bedroom post-breakfast, raiding her wardrobe like pirates. She pulled out lingerie first--a sheer black babydoll, lacy and thin, then a red bodysuit, snug with crotch snaps. I stripped, slipping into the babydoll--its fabric brushed my shaved legs like a soft tease.
"Man, this is wild," I thought, pretending to grumble, "This barely covers anything."
"Looks good though," she chuckled, tossing me a teal bikini--stringy, skimpy, just enough to tuck me in.
"Try this," she said.
Then skirts--tight leather minis gripping my ass, flowy florals swishing as I turned--shorts riding high, and dresses draping flirty and light.
"Spin for me," she grinned.
She handed me black strappy heels, and I stepped in, wobbling.
"These are a nightmare, Aunt Daisy--crazy," I grumbled.
Lie--they make my legs pop, and I'm hooked.
"You'll figure it out, hon," she grinned.
We ordered C-cup prosthetic boobs online--her idea to "go real"--set to arrive later.
"Gonna look perfect," she said.
Mid-try-on, I caught her eye, smirking sly.
"Hey... can I wear your used panties?" I asked.
"What?" her brows jumped.
"Ones you've had on all day?" I added.
"You're odd," she shrugged.
"Sure," she agreed.
She slid off her black silk Brazilians--warm, her musk clinging--and pulled them up my legs herself, fingers lingering slow on my thighs.
"Feel that," she teased.
I hardened fast, tenting the silk.
"Guess we're not quittin', huh?" she smirked.
She dropped to her knees, sucking me through the panties first--tongue teasing the silk 'til I groaned.
"Aunt Daisy--more, don't mess around," I begged.
"Patience, nephew," she purred, lips pressing wet.
"Fuck--keep going," I growled, gripping her shoulders as the silk soaked.
She tugged them down, took me deep--wet, hot, fast.
"Yeah--suck it, you're amazing," I growled, her mouth a tight, slick heaven.
"Love your cock," she mumbled, tongue swirling as she bobbed.
"Deeper--fuck," I hissed, hips rocking, her spit dripping as she gagged soft.
"Mmm--Roolk," she hummed, eyes daring me.
Then she pushed me back on the bed, legs wide.
"Dive in," she rasped.
I dove in--her pussy tangy, dripping as I licked slow.
"Roolk--yes, eat me, don't stop!" she moaned, tongue flat against her folds.
"Fuck--you're wet," I growled, sucking her clit.
"Oh fuck--right there!" she bucked.
"Gimme more," I grinned, lapping deep--her juices smeared my chin.
Her hands yanked my hair, thighs clamping my head as she shook.
"I'm cumming--oh lord!" she cried.
"Cum for me," I urged, her hips jerking wild, soaking my face.
I climbed up, sliding in missionary--panties at my knees.
"Harder, Roolk--do me," she gasped.
"Fuck--tight," I groaned, legs locking me tight as I thrust, bed creaking loud.
"Deeper--nephew!" she whimpered, my cock sinking deep--hot, wet, gripping me.
"Yes--fuck me!" she moaned, slow at first, then faster, hips slamming hers.
"Take it," I growled, headboard thumping, squeezing her bouncing chest.
"Oh Roolk--harder!" she begged, nails clawing my back.
"Love your tits," I rasped, angling up 'til she writhed.
"Yes--nephew, keep it up, Aunt Daisy needs it!" she whimpered.
I flipped her doggy--ass high, head low.
"Do me, Roolk--Aunt Daisy loves it!" she yelled into the pillow.
"Fuck--take it deep," I slammed in, grabbing her hips.
"Harder--nephew, yes!" she pushed back, skin slapping loud.
"So fuckin' good," I growled, her ass jiggling with each thrust.
"Scream for me," I hissed, hair tangled in my fist.
"Fuck--Roolk--yes!" she yelled, pussy dripping down her thighs.
I flipped her again--she shoved me down, riding cowgirl.
"Take it, Roolk--Aunt Daisy's boy," she moaned wild.
"Tight as heck," I groaned, nails raking me as I thrust up.
"Oh fuck--nephew, yes!" she bounced, knees digging the mattress.
"Ride me," I growled, hips rolling fast--wet slaps echoing.
"Mmm--gonna fuck you good," she kissed me sloppy, leaning forward.
"Love it," I rasped, gripping her waist, her tits swaying wild.
Then reverse cowgirl--she spun, ass bouncing.
"I'm gonna--Aunt Daisy's cumming!" she screamed.
"Fuck--keep going!" I slapped her thighs, slamming down hard.
"Yes--Roolk--yes!" she shook, soaking me.
"Take it all," I groaned, matching her 'til we collapsed.
"Yes--Roolk, Aunt Daisy's so happy!" she howled, panting wrecks.
We hit the shower after--steam fogging as hot water rained down. I pressed her against the tiles, hands sliding up her wet chest, kissing her neck.
"Round two, Aunt Daisy--gonna do you right," I growled.
"Roolk, you're relentless, you scamp," she moaned.
"Fuck--want you," I rasped, arching back, guiding me in shaky.
"Yes--Roolk--yes!" she gasped, thrust slow, water slicking us.
"Wet and hot," I grunted, cock sliding easy--her pussy pulsing.
"Right there, Aunt Daisy wants it," she moaned, building it up.
"Take it," I growled, then harder--her ass smacking my hips.
"Yes--don't stop, do Aunt Daisy hard!" she begged, water splashing wild.
"So fuckin' good," I grunted, gripping her shoulders, driving deep.
"I'm cumming--oh gosh!" she screamed, rubbing her clit fast.
"Cum for me," I urged, fingers slippery, her legs shaking.
"Oh Roolk--yes!" she shook, pussy squeezing me.
"Here it is," I groaned, cumming hard inside, pulsing deep as water rinsed it away, hot and messy.
"Fuck--Roolk," she panted, lingering, her laughing shaky against me.
"You'll wear me out, kid--mercy," she chuckled.
"Worth it, Aunt Daisy," I smirked, kissing her shoulder sloppy.
"Every bit," I added.
We landed in the living room--she in a tank and shorts, me in her warm peach bralette, those black silk panties fresh off her, tight black shorts, and thigh-high stockings she'd tossed over grinning. She sat me down, makeup kit out like a craftsman's spread.
"Gotta make you flawless, Brooke," she said.
"Alright," I nodded.
She brushed foundation smooth--cool, blending soft.
"Nice and even," she muttered.
Then contoured my cheeks sharp.
"Sharp like Mom's," she grinned.
Dusting bronze shadow slow, layering mascara 'til my lashes stood bold.
"Look at those eyes," she said.
"Poppin' now," I smirked.
Deep plum lipstick followed, smeared with her thumb for that smudged-chic look.
"Messy but hot," she teased.
Then creamy highlighter on my cheekbones, nose, and chin--giving me a dewy glow that caught the light just right.
"Glowin' now," she whistled.
She drew winged liner steady.
"Hold still--makes you shine," she muttered.
"Steady hands," I said.
And filled my brows bold yet soft--like Mom's, but hotter.
"Sexy arches," she grinned.
"Wig time," she said, fitting black bangs loose and flirty, tugging strands perfect.
"Perfect fit," she added.
She stepped back, whistling.
"Wow, you're a knockout," she said.
"Girl name?" she asked.
"Brooke," I smirked.
"Always Brooke," I added.
Been Brooke in Mom's mirror forever--nice try claiming it, Aunt Daisy.
"Brooke it is!" she clapped.
"My stunning niece--perfect," she beamed.
The doorbell cut through our haze, sharp and sudden. I peeked out--froze--a tall, muscular blonde guy stood there, stranger to me. My heart raced, Brooke in full swing--bralette showing, stockings tight, no time to swap. Aunt Daisy whispered quick.
"No chance--say you're my colleague," she hissed.
"Got it--I'm Brooke, work pal," I nodded.
She opened the door bright.
"Hey, Will!" she chirped.
"This is Brooke, my colleague--say hi!" she added.
Will Nolan, landlord's son, eyed me--stockings, shorts--lingering sharp.
"Hi, Will," I said, hips cocked.
"Good to see ya--come in!" Aunt Daisy waved him in warm.
I stood tall, playing it smooth, hips cocked slight, while my brain yelled, Who's this dude? Aunt Daisy chattered bright, ushering him in, and I trailed behind, Brooke on display, the day spinning wilder than I'd ever imagined.