Aunt’s Dirty Secrets About Mom

I graduated high school three weeks ago, top of my class just like my parents expected. As a reward they let me spend the entire summer with my Aunt Liza at her beachfront villa on the Big Island. The place sits right on the sand, floor-to-ceiling glass walls looking out at the Pacific, infinity pool that seems to pour into the ocean itself. Liza inherited everything when her much older husband died a decade earlier. People still call her a gold digger behind her back, but she never cared. She was twenty-three when she married him, thirty-three when he left her richer than most countries. Now at thirty-nine she lives exactly how she wants.

My mother is forty-one and the complete opposite. Conservative. Traditional. Always in modest clothes, always deferring to my father. Liza is pure Hollywood glamour—long dark hair that never looks less than perfect, full red lips, a body that still turns every head. High, heavy tits that strain against whatever silk blouse or low-cut dress she chooses. Narrow waist. Round, firm ass that fills out designer jeans like they were painted on. She walks like she owns every room she enters, and she does.

I’m eighteen, six-foot-one, dirty-blond hair, blue eyes, the kind of lean muscle you get from surfing and lifting. Women stare when I walk around the island shirtless. Liza noticed that the first day I arrived and just smiled that slow, knowing smile of hers.

Tonight we stayed in. I’d cooked steaks and roasted potatoes the way my mother taught me. Liza had nearly moaned around every bite. Afterward we sat on the massive sectional couch facing the dark ocean, a bottle of expensive red between us. She was wearing a black silk robe that barely closed over her tits, the belt tied loosely so a long strip of smooth thigh showed every time she shifted.

“You really want to know why your mother and I stopped speaking?” she asked, swirling her wine. Her voice was low, husky.

I nodded. I’d been asking all week.

She set the glass down and turned toward me. The robe slipped open another inch. One dark nipple was almost visible. “Fine. But once I start, I don’t stop. And you don’t get to look at me the same way after. Understand?”

“I understand.”

She studied my face for a long moment, then leaned closer. I could smell her perfume—something expensive and dirty, like vanilla and sex. “Your mother wasn’t always the prim little housewife she pretends to be. When we were teenagers she was the wild one. I was the follower.”

My cock twitched inside my shorts. I tried to keep my face neutral.

Liza’s hand settled on my thigh, high up, fingers brushing the edge of my growing hard-on. “She taught me how to suck cock. Properly. Not that shy little lick-and-hope shit most girls do. She showed me how to open my throat and take a man all the way down until his balls were against my chin.”

The words hit me like a fist to the gut. My mother. The woman who made me pack lunches and checked my homework. My aunt’s fingers squeezed gently around the thick shape in my shorts.

“She used to bring boys home when our parents were out. I’d hide in the closet and watch. Your mother would get on her knees in the middle of the living room and deep-throat some football player until he was begging. Then she’d crawl on top of him and ride him like she was trying to break his cock off inside her. She liked it rough. She liked being called a dirty little slut while she came.”

I was fully hard now, throbbing. Liza’s hand slid higher, cupped my cock through the fabric, stroked once, slow.

“Keep talking,” I managed.

She smiled and opened my shorts with practiced fingers. My cock sprang free—thick, veined, already leaking. She wrapped her soft hand around the shaft and pumped me slowly while she continued.

“One night she let two guys fuck her at the same time. One in her pussy, one in her ass. She was eighteen. Same age you are now. She looked right at the closet where I was hiding and told me to watch how a real woman takes cock. She came so hard she screamed. The boys filled both her holes and she just kept grinding, milking every drop.”

Liza leaned down and licked a stripe up the underside of my cock. Her tongue was hot and wet. “Your mother used to taste like pure sex. I know because she made me clean her up afterward with my tongue more than once.”

I groaned. The image was filthy and wrong and so fucking hot I almost came right then.

She took the head into her mouth, suckled gently, then pushed down until her nose was buried in my pubic hair. No gag, no hesitation. Just pure skilled suction. She bobbed slowly, letting me feel every inch of her throat, while her free hand cupped my balls and rolled them.

When she pulled off she was breathing harder. A thin string of spit connected her lower lip to my cock. “She made me practice on her fingers first. Then on bananas. Then on real cock. By the time I was your age I could swallow a load without spilling a drop. Just like she taught me.”

She went back down, faster this time, wet slurping sounds filling the quiet room. One of her hands slipped inside her robe and started rubbing her own cunt. I could smell her—rich, musky, already soaked.

I tangled my fingers in her perfect hair and fucked up into her mouth. She took it easily, moaning around my shaft. Every time she came up for air she added another detail.

“She used to make me eat her pussy while she told me exactly how she wanted to be fucked by the next boy. She’d grind on my face until she came, then make me thank her for the privilege.”

My balls tightened. I was close.

Liza pulled off again, stroked me hard and fast with her spit-slick hand. “I still have pictures from back then. Want to see your mother with cum dripping out of her cunt?”

I nodded, desperate.

She stood, robe falling completely open. Her body was unreal—full tits with dark, stiff nipples, smooth stomach, a neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair above her glistening pussy lips. She walked to a drawer, pulled out an old photo album, and returned.

She straddled my lap, facing me, her wet cunt hovering just above my cock. She opened the album and held it so I could see while she ground her slippery folds along my shaft.

The first photo showed my mother at eighteen, on her knees, mouth stretched around a thick cock, eyes watering, mascara running. The next one had her bent over a couch, a guy buried balls-deep in her ass, her face twisted in pure ecstasy. Another showed her sitting on a different boy’s face while a second fucked her from behind.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.

Liza reached down, angled my cock, and sank onto it in one smooth motion. Her cunt was scorching hot, dripping, tighter than I expected. She took every inch until her ass rested on my thighs.

“Your mother loved getting filled,” she said, starting to ride me slow and deep. “She used to tell me she wished she could have a cock in her mouth, her pussy, and her ass all at once. Sometimes we made it happen.”

She bounced harder, tits swaying. I grabbed her hips and thrust up to meet her. The wet slap of our bodies filled the room. Her cunt clenched around me every time she bottomed out.

“She made me watch the first time she got pregnant with you,” Liza continued, voice breaking into moans. “She was still fucking other men for the first few months. Said the risk made her come harder. I watched one of them pump a load into her while she was already carrying you. She looked at me and smiled with cum on her lips.”

I flipped us so she was on her back on the couch. I hooked her legs over my shoulders and pounded into her hard. The photo album fell to the floor. Liza’s head tipped back, mouth open, taking every brutal thrust.

“Fuck me like you want to fuck her,” she gasped. “Pretend this is your mother’s tight little housewife cunt. Pound it. Breed it.”

I lost it. I drove into her like an animal, balls slapping her ass, cock battering her cervix. She came first, screaming, juices squirting around my shaft and soaking the couch. The rhythmic squeezing of her orgasm pulled my own climax out of me. I buried myself to the hilt and flooded her with thick ropes of cum, pulse after pulse, until it leaked out around my cock and ran down her crack.

We stayed locked together, panting. After a minute she pushed me onto my back again and climbed down between my legs. She licked our mixed cum from my softening cock, then from her own dripping cunt, then crawled up and kissed me so I could taste both of us.

“Round two,” she whispered against my lips. “I’m not done telling you everything.”

She straddled my face and lowered her messy pussy onto my mouth. I licked greedily, tongue pushing into her cum-filled hole, tasting myself and her. She ground against my face while she reached back and stroked my cock back to full hardness.

“Your mother used to sit on my face just like this,” she said, voice husky. “She’d make me beg for permission to make her come. Sometimes she’d hold my nose shut so I had to breathe through her cunt. I loved it.”

I sucked her clit hard. She shuddered and flooded my tongue with more of our combined juices. When she finally lifted off she was glistening from chin to tits.

She turned around into a reverse cowgirl, guided my cock back into her swollen cunt, and started riding again. This time she leaned forward, giving me a perfect view of her ass stretching around my shaft, of the creamy mess already leaking out of her.

“She taught me how to take it in the ass too,” Liza said over her shoulder. “Said every hole was meant to be used. The first time she fucked me with a strap-on she made me thank her after every stroke. I still have that harness. Want me to get it later?”

I answered by grabbing her hips and slamming up into her. She cried out and pushed back harder.

We fucked like that for a long time—her riding, me thrusting, both of us covered in sweat. When I felt myself getting close again she pulled off, turned around, and sat on my cock in a regular cowgirl so she could look me in the eye while she told the next part.

“The night before she married your father she came to my apartment. She was still in her little white dress. She got on her knees, sucked me off with a strap-on harness already around her hips, then bent over the kitchen table and made me fuck her ass until she came three times. She said she needed one last real orgasm before she settled down. I left bruises on her hips. She walked down the aisle the next day still feeling me.”

I came again, harder than the first time, flooding her while she clenched and milked every drop. She stayed seated on me, rocking gently, until my cock stopped twitching.

We moved to her bedroom after that. The bed was massive, silk sheets, a full wall of mirrors. She opened a drawer and pulled out a thick black dildo and a bottle of lube.

“Your mother used this on me the last time we spoke,” she said. “She fucked me with it while she told me she never wanted to see me again. Said I was a reminder of everything she’d given up. Then she came on it and left it inside me.”

Liza lay back, spread her legs, and handed me the dildo. I pushed it into her still-creamy cunt slowly, watching her stretch around it. Once it was buried she nodded toward the lube.

“My ass,” she said. “Just like she used to.”

I coated my fingers and worked two into her tight hole while I fucked her with the dildo. She was so open and wet from earlier that it didn’t take long before I was three fingers deep. When she was ready I replaced the fingers with my cock. The heat and tightness were unreal. I pushed in inch by inch until my balls rested against her.