A lesson from aunt Barbara

The nagging sensations deep inside her cunt began to register on Betty Sue Swensen’s awareness. Part of the excitement, she knew, causing her juices to flow and the slick pouty lips of her cuntal mouth to flex warmly and flush deep red, was because she hadn’t seen her sister, Barbara Jean Crocker, in almost two years, not since she’d gone to live with that airline pilot in San Jose. When she and Barbara had been growing up together back in the family home, they had had more than a sisterly understanding, and just seeing her red-haired sister, younger than Betty’s forty years by nearly six, seemed to bring those wild passionate nights back in a rush, centering just beneath the surface of her feverish groin.
“Oh, Barbara,” she said, “it’s so good to see you again!”
“For me, too, Betts,” she said, noticing how her sweet sister’s forty years had only mellowed her, softened out a few of her wilder, rougher edges. There wasn’t a singe gray hair visible on her head, crowned by long flowing shoulder-length brown hair, the color matching her eyes. Both women still weighed about the same, though, one-hundred-and thirty pounds, but Barbara’s five-foot-six-inches, shorter than Betty by two whole inches, seemed to make her look much heavier.
“When I heard that Johan had been taken to the hospital, I just had to come and be of whatever help I could to you and Erik.”
“I’m so glad you could come, Barbara,” Betty said, looking deeply into Barbara’s starkly green eyes. “When I phoned you, I was so confused. I felt completely helpless.”
“Well, dear, I’m here now,” Barbara said, “so you can tell me all about it. What did happen, anyway?”
“They still don’t know for sure, Babs,” she said. “He was at work at the factory as usual, when he just collapsed. They rushed him to the hospital in an ambulance and sent for me. I called you from there, just after they’d let me see him.”
“What does it seem to be, Betty?” she asked, looking concerned.
“They still don’t know,” Betty Sue said. “They’re running all kinds of tests on him. It seems to be a blood circulation thing, blood being cut off to his brain. He was unconscious for hours before they revived him. It could take them weeks, they said, before they can pinpoint it exactly.”
“And in the meantime, I suppose they’ll just keep you dangling,” Barbara said, smiling, trying to ease her sister’s obvious anxieties as best she could.
“Yes, I suppose,” Betty said. “Thank God you could come here right away. I get so nervous thinking about… about if… if… Oh, God, what if Johan dies?”
“Nonsense, Betty,” Barbara Jean said. “It’s just something simple. Why, I bet Johan’s as strong and as horny as a horse, right this very minute. Nothing can happen to him.”
Betty Sue almost wanted to laugh, because Johan was still strong, and knowing him, he was most probably horny, having to stay all by himself in that boring old hospital bed. No wonder her cunt felt weird. Quickly she calculated the days… she had just finished a particularly long, heavy period the very day it happened to Johan. It had been five days… no, six, she corrected herself, since they had made love. Johan, her incredibly big hunk of Swedish masculinity, was not used to such long waits between balling.
Just the thought of his massive frame, his wild curly blond hair and sky-blue eyes, made Betty Sue’s cunt spasm and flutter. The juices that had been gathering just inside the lips of her cuntal mouth grew warmer and slowly oozed through the lips, parting them slightly so they would rub against each other sibilantly if she moved her legs just right. She could almost feel Johan’s one-hundred-and-ninety pounds bearing down on her, her tits nestling against the soft, silky down of his blond chest hairs and the incredible weight of his cock, hot and hard and throbbing, pressing against the trim firm muscles of her flat belly, his hairy ball sac pressed tight against her moistly waiting clitoris.
Betty Sue fought away the image of her virile husband and forced herself back to reality, to the fact that he was at that very moment suffering in a hospital bed while she chatted away girlishly with her baby sister.
“Oh, Barbara Jean,” she said, “you’re right, I do miss him so, even… well, you know, that way… maybe especially that way.”
“You mean you’d like to fuck, don’t you?” Barbara Jean asked.
Betty Sue, a bit of a repressed prude, blushed just from hearing her worldly sister use the word “fuck”. The thought of actually using it herself was somehow totally alien to her being, to the high moral standards she had tried to set for herself and her own family. It had actually been years since she had even remembered the wanton little sex games she had played with Barbara Jean, in the privacy of their bedroom, late at night while their parents were asleep. Or perhaps, even while they also made love, in their bedroom.
“Oh,” Betty Sue said. “Na! I don’t mean that. It would be nice, though, if Johan were here, to hug him and… and… make a little love.”
“Bullshit!” Barbara Jean said. “You’re just horny. What you need is another man to get your mind off your troubles. You should have an affair, Betts. It’d do you a world of good, open your mind up to some of the things you’ve been missing.” She giggled and her thoughts turned inward, to the guy she had picked up two days earlier, and the enormous whang he had hanging between his stubby legs. “Some things are definitely better than other things, Betts. Some cocks better than others.”
“Oh, Barbara,” Betty said. “I’m ashamed of you! Why I never, not in all my life, thought of… of actually letting another man do it to me.”
“Do you mean, Betts, that the only man who has ever fucked you is Johan?” Barbara Jean asked incredulously.
“Oh, yes, Babs,” Betty Sue said. “I could never dream of… of being unfaithful. Of committing adultery. It’s just too awful to contemplate.”
Barbara Jean laughed and opened up another can of beer, pouring some of it into Betty’s glass to cool hers off. “You’re so naive, dear,” she said. “This is 1978, you know. No one but no one thinks that way any more.”
“I do,” Betty said, taking a sip from her glass and letting the foam roll around in her mouth, tasting it before she swallowed.
“Christ, you need some loosening up, dear,” Barbara Jean said. “And if I can help you out while I’m here, I’m going to do it. I can’t stand the thought of you missing out on so very much, all because of some antiquated sexual hang-ups. Why, when we were still kids we even used to…”
Barbara Jean stopped and laughed, her own memories of their all-night balling causing her loins to heat up and a twitch snap at the mouth of her womb. “Hey, Betts, do you remember how you used to squeal when I’d suck on your…”
“Oh, Barbara,” she said, quickly interrupting. “We were just children then, really. We didn’t know what we were doing, that it… well, incestuous.”
“Incest my ass.” Barbara Jean said. “And we were well into our teens. Relieve me, Betts, I knew what I was doing, and you’re five years older than me.”
“I count time differently now, Babs,” Betty said. “I think that’d make me just two years older than you.”
They laughed together. For the first time since Barbara had arrived, just after noon, Betts saw her smile. Perhaps, she thought, there really is a chance for Betts after all. Now if I can just get her fucked. But how? That’s the problem.
“Then that’d make you five years older than me, sis,” Barbara Jean said, “because I started counting backward too.”
“Oh, Babs,” Betty Sue said, “it is good to laugh again. You made it happen, too. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Betts,” she said. “Wait until there’s something real to thank me for. Oh, I know, I brought along some high-grade Thai sticks. Leon flies them back from Hong Kong every now and then, picks them up real cheap.”
“Thai sticks?” Betty said. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t smoke either, Betts,” Barbara Jean said. “What do you do around here all the day alone, sing hymns?”
“No,” Betty Sue said, and laughed, “especially not now, not after the new preacher took over the church.”
“Oh, what’s wrong with him?” Barbara Jean asked.
“He’s black, for God’s sakes, Babs,” Betty said.
“Why, Johan won’t even step inside the church any more. I swear half the congregation’s resigned. I only go occasionally myself, for appearance’s sake.”
“Imagine that,” Barbara Jean said, lighting a brown-paper hand-rolled cigarette and dragging deeply, holding the smoke down deep in her lungs, “your own black preacher. Bet he’s got rhythm. Wonder, how many of the ladies of the congregation have already sacrificed their virginity on his spear of righteousness?”
“Oh, Babs,” Betty Sue said, “you are awful! Things like that just don’t happen, especially around here.”
Babs slowly exhaled, her grin growing broader, more knowing. “Here, Betts,” she said, handing the cigarette over to her sister. “Just take a deep drag on this cigarette. You saw what I did. Hold it in and let it fill your lungs good. How’s he hung, the black preacher? I’ve never made it with one of them, but I hear they’re real tigers in the sack.”
Betty blushed and took the cigarette from Barbara Jean. She really didn’t want to smoke it. She never smoked anything and never had, certainly not. What did she call it – Thai weed? – that’s dope. Disgusting. Still, if I don’t smoke it, she’ll keep asking embarrassing questions about the Reverend Billy Dean Donaldson.
Betty did exactly what she thought she had seen Barbara Jean do, sucking heavily on the cigarette and drawing it down into her lungs, holding it there. He is big, and handsome actually, in a chocolate sort of way, she thought. I never really actually thought about… his thing, but I’ve also heard they have real big bites.
The dope in Betty Sue’s lungs expanded radically, filling them to overflowing and she started coughing, forcing the smoke out in great hawking gusts, heaving with sharp little pains.
Barbara Jean took the number back from her. “No,” she said, “watch me again. You just take little tokes, so they don’t expand so big inside you. Like this.” She sucked deep again and Betty Sue watched the end of the cigarette grow fiery red as she did.
“Now here,” Barbara Jean said, through tight lips, retaining the smoke, “try it again, only gentler.”
Holding the number in her hand, Betty Sue looked down at it peculiarly, examining it. It was smaller than a regular cigarette, and wrapped in that funny colored paper. It smelled strong, too, the smoke quickly filling the room with a heady odor. Betty quickly took a swallow of her beer, washing away the last bit of pain in her lungs, preparing them for another trial at satisfying her pushy sister.
“Go ahead, do it,” Barbara said, expelling the smoke almost in Betty Sue’s face, her long red hair falling provocatively over her shoulders as she shook her head from side, to side.
Betty Sue took a second hit off the cigarette and immediately handed it back to her sister. “No more,” she said, feeling the peculiar lethargy start to creep over her already from the high-grade marijuana. “I think I’ve had enough. I’ll stick to beer if you don’t mind.”
“Well, okay for now,” Barbara Jean said, finishing the Thai weed herself. “But I bet Erik wouldn’t refuse any of this. Say, how old is he now… hmmm… he must be…”
“He’s eighteen, Babs,” Betty Sue said with considerable pride. “And he’s so big. Why already he’s almost as tall as his father, and so handsome.”
“Got a big dick, huh?” Barbara Jean asked, the weed clouding her senses and sharpening the feeling seeping throughout her cuntal walls. The flow of her juices seemed to gather just inside the fine smooth lips of her cuntal opening, waiting to lubricate them.
“Damn it, Babs,” Betty Sue said. “You do say the crudest things!”
“Bet he does, anyway,” she said, “even if you pretend not to know it. Tell me about him.”
“He’s already six feet tall. His hair’s a little lighter than Johan’s, almost platinum, and his eyes are a deeper blue. He weighs… oh, it must be almost a hundred-and-seventy now. Makes him look so long and lean, stretched out on his tall frame.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll fill out as soon as he starts fucking and eating regularly,” Barbara said.
Betty Sue tried to ignore her sister’s obscene sense of humor. Betty Sue was positive that no one really thought, much less talked, the way Barbara Jean did.
“He’s got a girlfriend already,” Betty said. “At least I think he has. Her name’s. Denise St. James and she lives two streets over.”
“Now, Babs,” Betty Sue began, but they were both interrupted.
Erik Swensen, rushed into the room. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a very tight pair of cut-offs, the frayed edges of the legs unraveling all around. The sunlight seemed to be gathered in his hair, giving it sparkling highlights and his bright blue eyes shimmered with youth and boundless energy.
“Jesus Christ!” Barbara Jean said, butting out her Thai roach and taking a quick sip of her beer, her eyes riveted to the massive bulge of the teen’s crotch. The cut-offs were many times washed and faded thin, the fabric clearly outlining a most generous cockshaft and balls.
“Oh,” the teen said, coming, to a quick halt. “I didn’t know you had company, Mom. I was just going to remind you it’s almost time to go to the hospital.”

“Yes, dear,” Betty Sue said, “I’m keeping my eye on the time. But tell me, Erik, don’t you recognize your Aunt Barbara?”
“Aunt Barbara?” the teen said, “is it really you? I haven’t seen you in years. You’re much prettier than I remember you being.”
“And you, my pet,” Barbara Jean said, “are too. Come, give me a big tight hug.”
Betty Sue watched her sister pull her son in for a close embrace, making very sure it was chaste all the way. Surely she wouldn’t, Betty thought, not with her own nephew!
Breaking the hug, rushing off to get something to eat, Erik told Barbara that he’d talk to her later.
“See,” Betty Sue said, “didn’t I tell you? And he’s right, too, I do have to get ready to go to the hospital. Do you think you can handle fixing dinner alone? The things are all ready in the kitchen, all you have to do is throw them together.”
“Betts,” Barbara Jean said, “just get ready and leave. I can take care of cooking. Perhaps Erik can help, if he stays around long enough, that is.”
Laughing, Betty Sue went to her room to change into her best dress. After all, she wanted to look real good for Johan when she saw him in the hospital.
Betty Sue arrived on time, parking in the hospital lot and going up the stairs to the second floor. Johan’s room was just down the corridor in the special observation wing, a room he shared with one other person. Betty Sue was anxious to see him, so she hurried past the nurses and interns, almost ignoring them. Then, just two doors away from her destination, some peculiar groaning sounds brought her to an abrupt halt.
Perhaps someone’s dying, or needs a doctor, she thought, freezing in her tracks and turning toward the partly opened door leading to someone’s room.

Looking through the crack, making sure there wasn’t something she could do to help the poor unfortunate patient out, Betty Sue was appalled at what she saw inside the room.
“Oh,” she said, unable to say anything more. The woman inside the room already had a doctor, giving her what she needed in abundance.
Betty Sue had never even imagined such a disgusting spectacle in her entire life. Certainly nothing she had ever done with her Johan had ever led her to suspect that people actually did vile things like this to each other. Still, as disgusting as it was to her, she found herself helpless to turn away, to avoid seeing the groveling, sex-rutting people in the room.
There was a pretty woman, tiny and dark, her long black hair falling well over her shoulders and her black eyes flashing sparks of her passion across the room, so passion-fogged that Betty Sue could have walked right up to her and tapped her on the shoulder and she still wouldn’t have noticed her. She was a patient, obviously, and it was her bed. The other bed in the room was unoccupied, probably because the doctor had deliberately arranged it that way, so he could get at her all alone.
The petite black-haired woman was wearing a hospital gown of the type that opened all the way up the back. It had been pulled aside to expose all of the front of her body. Her tits, heavy and firm-looking and tipped with dark brown areolas and pencil tip nipples, stood erect and throbbing. But Betty Sue noticed most of all the wantonness with which she held her buttocks high up on the bed, her legs flung far apart, her pubic hair like a dark halo riding atop her wide-spread cuntal mouth, the inner pinkness of it glistening with heavy moisture.
There was a headiness filling the room, a strange aroma of lust, an odor that seemed to originate within the flexing, spasming cunt of the small woman.
It was the things the doctor was doing to the woman, though, that held Betty Sue completely transfixed. His back was to her and she wouldn’t even know he was a doctor except for his uniform, and he was completely engrossed in the woman’s pussy, slipping his fingers into it and bending down close, examining it minutely. Betty Sue had a clear line of sight right over his shoulder, because of the way he was bent low over the bed, over the woman’s silky-looking thighs, and she could actually see right into the woman’s cunt. Her cunt was actually standing open, revealing a dark tunnel right into her lower body, her belly.
Then, to Betty’s astonishment, the doctor kissed the woman’s cunt. More than that, he buried his face into the pink wetness of her opened crack, burrowing right into the soft delicate tissues of her labia, her clitoris, mouthing it all over, his tongue drilling deeply into her cunt and laying her clitoris again and again.

Just watching, Betty Sue’s own pussy began snapping, at her, flexing its nerve endings and sending loud screaming sounds right into her brain. It juiced up, though not as much as the woman’s on the bed, and her knees felt weak suddenly, threatening to collapse beneath her.
Still the doctor devoted his avid attention to the woman’s cunt, eating it and sucking on it, making loud smacking sounds as his mouth flesh ground against her pussy flesh, his lips smashing against hers, increasing the strong-smelling woman odor all the while.
The woman, moaning and groaning in loud excitement, tossed her head from side to side, her eyes closed and her singing whine giving evidence of the intensity of her ecstasy as she flooded her cuntal walls with her rippling, muscle-snapping orgasm.
Stunned almost beyond belief, Betty Sue reached out and clutched at the door for support, but in her blind shock, she missed, pushing against the door and making it crash loudly back against the wall.
As the sharp sound reverberated throughout the room, the woman on the bed snapped to attention, her eyes opening and trying to focus on Betty Sue while the doctor whirled around quickly, pulling his face out of her spasming, cum-clinching pussy, and trying to stand up.
“Oh, my God!” Betty Sue said, frightened at being caught spying on the couple.

“Mrs. Swensen,” the doctor said, calmly, staring at her brazenly. “Your husband’s room is just down the corridor. You know the way.”
“Uh, yes, thank you, Doctor,” Betty Sue said, blushing furiously and angry with herself for letting the man make her feel somehow inferior, as if it was she, not him, doing something wrong. As if he had caught her at it, not the other way around. His face was flushed just slightly, not from embarrassment, but from the friction of his face through the woman’s juicy cunt. It was shining with moisture, and her juices, along with his spittle, was tracked all over his cheeks and his chin.

To make matters worse, it was her very own doctor, Dr. William Montgomery, the fine physician who was personally in charge of her Johan, of seeing that he was returned safely to her as soon as possible.
Turning without another word, Betty Sue rushed down the hallway toward Johan’s room, her conscience awash in a sea of confusing guilt, her morals shocked beyond her comprehension at being forced to witness such a degrading orgy.
Still, she had to admit, while she reached out to open Johan’s door, the scene had been exciting. Her own cunt had gone through a trip all its own, heating up to burning intensity and juicing like mad, as if she was more than ready for Johan’s big cock to fill her with hot heavy meat, making her a respectable married woman again.
She paused and breathed deeply, not wanting to appear too flushed for Johan, and certainly not considering telling him about the nauseating thing she tad seen Dr. Montgomery do, groveling around in the woman’s pussy that way.
Besides, people just didn’t do things like that anyway, so no one would have believed her. She decided it was best to try to forget the whole sordid scene, to simply wash it away from her memory as if it never happened.
Smiling, she opened the door and rushed in, throwing her arms around Johan’s strong hunky chest and hugging him tight, breathing in the clean man smell of him and wanting him, wanting his cock up inside her still twitching cunt more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life.