My lesbian lust for Auntie Evie

My lesbian lust for Auntie Evie 3

A few weeks had passed since I had met Evie for dinner. Although we were still texting and talking when we could, I felt strange, embarrassed, and unsure of what I had done. I know I had built up these deviant sexual fantasies of her in my head, and although we had kissed goodnight, and she said she liked it, I was still so concerned that I had crossed the line. That maybe I had used her, or even taken advantage of her, when she was feeling lonely and depressed.

Even though every bit of this was sending up red flags in my mind, my thoughts of her resonated. I never had a deep interest in a woman as I had with her. Reasonably and with a clear moral consciousness, I knew she was much older, married, and someone I knew from my childhood, which should have put a stop to this. But every time she texted, I texted back right away. It was like a drug. I had to have it. I had to know. I had to feel this again.

I was back to feeling the way I had been in High School, and during college, I was consistently horny, always feeling wet, always touching myself, creating little fantasies in my head. Just like any new possible relationship that might lead to sex, I was excited, I was anxious, and I was ready. As much as eating pussy again wasn't something I had planned or expected, just the thought of making her wet and making her cum was overly enticing. I didn't want this to be an on-and-off thing, or some bi-weekly sneaky meet-up. If we were interested and willing to engage in this, then it needed to be us.

I didn't want to use her. To be a slut. To break up a marriage, or be some side dish. If I were going to date women, and if that's where my lust, desires, and life led, then I would have preferred it to be with someone who was single. Had experience and could give me everything I was looking for. Not sneaking around, or with someone already well established, or someone who might lose their sexual desires way faster due to aging. It was all so confusing. Yet each time I thought of that kiss. Thought of her big tits, or heard her voice in my head. My body ached, my stomach got full of butterflies, and embarrassingly, my pussy would get wet, to the point that no matter where I was or what I was doing, I had to stop and get myself off.

I couldn't say for sure that I was turning into a lesbian. Or had been a lesbian all my life and just now realized I wanted it more. I think deep down, since Evie and I had reconnected and were texting and talking frequently, she was giving me something I had missed throughout my childhood. And that was a motherly figure. Someone who was showing me love and attention. As I sat and psycho analyzed myself countless times over these few weeks, I do not doubt that my turning to sex, erotic writings, anime, porn, and cosplay was the escape and passions I had that needed to be fulfilled. Don't get me wrong, my parents loved me and did what they could for me, but I wasn't as close to my other as I should have been. In those times of need, instead of her being more supportive, more open, more communicative, I was left to my own devices, which led to me experimenting and discovering fantasies of the flesh, rather than matters of the heart.

So, when Evie texted me asking me for lunch and shopping downtown in the market stalls on a Sunday afternoon, I didn't pass up the opportunity. We met and walked around for a few hours, trying on clothes, hats, shoes, and jewelry, but never pushing the envelope on spending large sums of money. We ate at a small pub and enjoyed a hamburger, chips, and a large pint of beer. It was a great afternoon. Every moment of walking with her, and occasionally walking arm in arm with her, made her feel comfortable and special.

Every time we tried on a dress or an outfit and she praised me for how sexy I looked in it, made me feel like we were deepening our friendship and our interest in one another. Even her little suggestions of, "Those heels would look fabulous on you with that mini-skirt from the other store," made me know she was looking beyond the clothes and letting me know what she liked or how she liked me dressed.

As our day was ending and we were walking back to the parking lot, fear came over me like nothing I had had before. You see, when we were out last time, it was dark, she had driven me home, and we were probably slightly under the influence. But now, it was still daylight in the late afternoon, and we had taken two different cars. Even though we both parked reasonably close to one another, I didn't know how this time would end. We were both definitely tired and worn out from walking, eating, and trying on clothes. I didn't know whether to invite her over to my place for dinner or make arrangements to see her another day. But just as the excitement of our day was still shining brightly, the fear of what's next came rushing in.

We found Evie's car as we walked through the parking lot. She was parked closer to the entrance, where mine was still up the level and on the opposite side. We stood and talked for a while, holding the bags of items we had purchased. Nothing seemed odd or looming. I set my bags down to give her a long goodbye hug when she suggested that I get into her car, and she could drive me up to the next level. I really wasn't too worried about it, as all I needed to do was walk up the ramp, turn the corner, and walk to the other side. But she insisted on driving me, so we threw all the bags into the back seat, and I got into her car.

She pulled in right next to my car seconds late, and we were sitting talking when the moment of fear hit us. Just like last time we were there, she shifted herself onto her left hip and was talking to me. I felt I was getting closer and more comfortable with her. That all of the talks we've had --our conversations about our lives, our passions, and even our disappointments --were resonating deep within each other.

When I least expected it, Evie spoke out to me, "Bella, it has been a blessing reconnecting with you. I have enjoyed our time together. Our dinner a few weeks back, Today's shopping. All your texts and honesty. I can't tell you how much it means to me."

I thanked her and admitted to her that I felt the same. I was so happy to get to see her, reconnect, and spend time with someone I admired. What I didn't tell her is that I was becoming smitten with her. I was falling for her. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to slowly take her clothes off. That even though I had some previous experience with one woman, my absolute lust, passion, and desire was to make love to her. To explain the best I could, that I still wasn't sure if I was a lesbian, but there was no one else and nowhere else I'd rather be than with her.

In the upcoming seconds, it seems I didn't have to explain anything, because Evie pulled me in for a deep hug, and as she was holding me, she whispered in my ear, "Bella, you have given me a new lease on life. I am so excited to see you and talk to you every day. I love being out with you, and I hope you feel the same. I hope you can't understand and accept that." And with that, she gave me a long peck on my cheek.

"Oh, I understand that completely, Evie," I replied. "I feel the same way."

She pulled far enough away to just be looking at me eye to eye, and just mere seconds later, she leaned in and put her lips to mine. She backed off after holding her lips to mine, looked at me, and said, "I know what I am doing is wrong, but I can't stop thinking about you. I am shocked by how attracted I am to you. I have never felt this way about any other woman, but I can't control myself around you. I hope you feel the same."

"I do." Was my reply.

She leaned forward and we frenched kissed so softly and slowly that I began to feel I was falling in love. Her right hand rested gently along the left side of my face. I was leaning even further over the armrest, trying to get closer to her, as our tongues danced around inside each other's mouths. The passion was deepening, and in the moments after hearing those words --knowing I had been fantasizing about her, and wanting her- was sending me into overload. I didn't care that we were in a parking lot. I wanted her right then and there.

I felt her whisper through our kiss, "I want to touch you."

I pulled her hand from my cheek and guided it down and onto my chest. Her hand cupped my left tit, and she slowly rubbed back and forth. Just the feeling of someone touching me again, while engaged in a deep kiss, sent shivers throughout my whole body. She was very cautious, very leery, and I know that, as much as she seems bold and courageous to be doing it, her fear was overwhelming.

I reached out and placed my hand over her tit, and I felt her body react, almost stiffening and jerking backwards. I had no doubt she had never been with a woman before, and now that she was caressing my tit and I was caressing hers, the fear had set in. We continued kissing and delicately touching each other's faces, necks, shoulders, and over each other's tits, until I was getting so hot and aroused that my pussy was tingling. I wanted her to know it was ok to touch me. To want me. That even though we weren't alone, out in public, and experiencing something new, I was genuinely okay with her kisses and touching.

I pulled away from kissing Evie and started pulling my shirt up and out of my waistband because it was tucked in so tightly and deeply. I managed to get it all untangled and loose, and I lifted it up to my neck, grabbed both of my bra cups, and pulled them down, exposing my bare tits to Evie's eyes. I sat there a moment, letting her see them and letting her get a good look. I let my shirt fall back down, but guided Evie's hand under it, letting her slowly make her way across my stomach and onto my dangling tits.

Her warm hand eventually found both. Caressing them, passing back and forth across them, stopping to tease my nipple with her fingers, then cupping, grasping, and pushing the hard into my chest as if she was trying to get the biggest handful of tits she could grab.

I could feel her hand trembling, but as soon as she had hit the mark and was becoming comfortable with touching me, I pulled her face back to mine and started kissing her deeply again. I slid my hand onto her chest and went back to caressing hers over her shirt, rubbing over both. I wanted her tits out. I wanted to see them touch them, suck on them, but the shirt she had on had no buttons, so I couldn't just unbutton it and reach in. At that point, she hadn't pulled her shirt up from her waistband, and as bold and curious as I was, I wanted her to make that move or at least let me know it was okay to do that.

"Bella, your tits feel amazing," she whispered through our kiss. I like the way they feel. So perky, so soft, so erotic."

"I want to feel yours," I replied.

Evie pulled her hand from inside my shirt, looked around, unbuttoned her jeans, and struggled to pull her shirt away from her waistband. She finally got it up and free enough so there was enough room for my hand and arm to fit up under it. We both reached down and slid our hands up each other's shirts. My tits were still hanging free while her was still cupped in her bra. I felt just how big and plump they were. How soft her skin felt, while my hand was rubbing over her smooth, sheer bra. I wiggled my hand in the best I could and managed to get down into the bra cup and felt her warm, soft nipple as she was still touching and caressing mine.

The passion got hotter and hotter, and in the midst of it all, she spoke out, "I have not done this before, Bella, this is so exciting."

Just as our passions were getting hotter and hotter, and I was about to lift my shirt up and pull her head down to suck on my nipples, the car next to us horn beeped, and the lights illuminated as if someone had unlocked the car by remote.

The noise set us off into an instant panic, at which point we pulled out our hands from inside each other's shirts, lurched back onto our seats, and sat upright as if we were trying to play it off like nothing was going on.

A family had walked up to their vehicle and were getting into it. The father, after helping his daughter into the backseat, looked at us as if he knew we were doing something, but never said a word.

My heart was racing. I'm just glad the constables hadn't pulled up on us. There was no doubt that we were nervous and fearful. That we had just been caught. After the other vehicle pulled out, I think both of our initial instincts were to turn on as we were doing, but fear, the emotional shock of almost being caught, had long broken the moment of sexual excitement.

"Whew," She whispered out. "That was too close."

"Maybe we should try this somewhere else," I spoke out. "Not here in public."

I suggested she follow me back to my place to continue what we were doing.

Unfortunately, her reply was rather deflating. She said, "No, Bella, I can't. I need to get home. I gotta be the wife. Gotta make dinner." Blah, blah, blah," shaking her head back and forth, as if she was mocking her responsibility to her household.

I understood. As depressing as it was. I knew what she meant, and I knew she had to go. I got out of her vehicle after one last quick, sneaky kiss, thanking her for a wonderful time.

Just as I was retrieving my items from her backseat, Evie said, "I'll text you tonight, I promise."

I closed her door, unlocked mine with the remote, and got into my car. I fixed my bra cups, started my engine, and watched as Evie reversed out of the spot, followed shortly after by me. When we exited the garage, she turned left, while I turned right. I drove home rather excited, but yet concerned.

It always seemed to fit the motto of my life, that when I was interested in someone, there was always some holdup. Some problems, some concerns that would keep us away from one another. And now, in the midst of all this, not only was I absolutely attracted to an older woman. But an older woman who was married. Yet deep inside, I couldn't have wanted her more. I wasn't scared that it was a woman. In reality, I always felt more comfortable thinking I could date a woman. I had minimal experience with it, and I honestly needed to admit to myself that I'd rather be eating pussy and sucking on tits than being pumped by a dick.

I don't think I had ever truly accepted my fate. That I had always believed some knight in shining armor would sweep me off my feet, marry me, impregnate me, and I would be the average mom with kids. But I have to tell you, the more life evolved for me, the more I would rather be lying flat on my stomach between a woman's legs, licking her wet slit, dripping wet myself, than sucking some dick.

And in the fleeting moments of leaving her --smelling her perfume on my face, knowing I had been touched and had touched her --left me more awake, more energized, and hornier than I had been in quite some time.

The problem was.... She said she had never done this before. She had never been with a woman. She was married, and even if we would have some of the hottest, most passionate lesbian sex any two women could have had, she would have to leave. Just Ike she did minutes ago, and go home. And this was troubling for me.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, reviewing the texts Evie and I shared after she got home, I could see her interest was developing. She wouldn't just come right out and say it, and I guess she had her reasons for that. But she surely hinted, in a roundabout way, that she wanted more. She wanted to see me again. She wanted to have another dinner with more time alone, and that in itself led me to become overly emotional, overly interested, and surely very aroused.

It wasn't long until I slid my hand down into my panties while I was reading her messages, thinking of her face, kissing her, and getting my first feel of her tits. When I slid them off and started rubbing myself all over my body, I put my panties into my mouth, like I was trying to gag myself, keeping myself quiet. I followed up with fantasizing about Evie slipping them off of me and ramming them into my mouth. Or even ramming hers into mine.

Minutes later, I had my fingers so deep inside my pussy, I thought I was going to bleed. I pumped and pumped and pumped, all while tasting the wetness of my pussy, through the material of my satin panties. How I imagined it was her pussy I was tasting. That she jammed her panties into my mouth, just before she went down on me and experienced her first taste of eating a woman out. How I'd hear her moaning and groaning in excitement and pleasure, as she'd hear me moaning and groaning as she was getting me off.

How her eyes would be affixed to mine as I slid down her body, spread her legs wide open, and began the process of pleasing her orally. How I'd make sure she knew I ate her pussy better than her husband ever could. How I'd make her cum so fucking hard that her legs would shake. How I wouldn't stop even when she told me to stop.

How, when it was over and we were cuddling, naked, warm and wet from our experience, that she'd whisper in my ear, "I want to stay here with you." That she wouldn't want to go home. That she'd be spending the night with me, cuddled under my warm, big blankets, naked, kissing and touching and cumming until we both fell asleep.

Needless to say, after I came countless times vaginally, I rolled myself over onto my stomach, spread my ass cheeks, and began fingering my ass. One finger led to two, and with the assistance of a big goop of lube, I lay there reaching behind me, ramming myself so hard that I finally let out one last big orgasm, until I was gasping for air. My mouth was wide open, drooling all over my pillow. I fell asleep within seconds, and I awoke with the sorest ass and vagina I had in a while.

I wished I had awoken to Evie next to me. To get up and make her some coffee, to see her come out of the bedroom wearing only her panties, walking up to me, and kissing me good morning. That throughout the day we'd do nothing but read the paper, cuddle on the couch, and make love as only two women can do. As much as those thoughts excited me and as much as I wished it would come true, deep in the back of my mind, I knew that even if she had been there, even if we had made love, that before the night was over, she'd have to go home. That she'd have to be lying next to her husband, and even if she suddenly realized or desired pussy more than dick, it was going to be an arduous process for us to be together like that.

I had come to accept I wanted her. I wanted to be with a woman. I didn't care who liked it or not. Whether my parents approved or not. To be honest, I didn't care whether society approved or not. I was falling for her, and even though I was supposed to be the proper, well-raised, rich English woman looking for a man and having a family, it's not what I wanted. I wanted pussy. I wanted her. Age difference or not. Affluence or not, married or not. I wanted her. I wanted Evie, and by God, I was going to find a way. But just as well all have wants and needs, for her, and for us, there were two big holdups. She wasn't a lesbian, and she married....

I'll tell you all about dinner at my house in the next chapter, but until then, realize I was changing and I wanted lesbian love more than anything I had ever wanted in life. And it scared the piss out of me.