My Aunt Taught Me to Obey on My Knees

I’m nineteen years old and, until that night, I had never been with a woman. What I had had, for a long time before that, was an obsession I could barely admit even to myself: small feet, especially on older women than me, women with experience, the kind who know exactly what they’re doing. It wasn’t something I could explain. It was something I felt in my gut every time someone took their shoes off near me.

My aunt Lorena was forty-eight, though anyone would have put ten years less on her. Blonde, just over five feet three, with a body she kept up with discipline and a face that always seemed to be keeping a secret. She had been affectionate with me my whole life. I had seen her in a swimsuit a hundred times, coming out of the pool dripping wet, changing without a trace of shame in the beach house. Never, not once, had I felt anything. Until that night, she was simply my aunt.

It all started at my cousin Diego’s gig, where he played drums in a rock band that had only just gotten going. The place was small, dark, smelled of beer and cables. My parents had stayed at a table in the back and I was against a wall, trying not to draw attention, when Lorena appeared with two drinks and a smile I had never seen on her before.

—You’re not going to stand there all night —she told me.

Something fast started playing and she dragged me out to the middle. She danced pressed against me, too pressed against me, her thigh brushing my leg with every turn. I had never been with anyone, so my body reacted however it could: badly, fast, without permission. My cock got hard and I knew at once that she had noticed.

She didn’t move away. She did the opposite.

She turned her back to me and started rubbing her ass against my dick, slowly, keeping time with the music with her hips, grinding herself against me until I felt like she was going to tear the fabric of my pants. I wasn’t breathing. When the song ended, she barely turned her head, winked at me, and let her hand fall, as if by accident, onto the bulge straining my pants. She squeezed once. Then again, slower, measuring me from top to bottom with her palm. More of a warning than a caress.

This is not happening, I thought. But it was happening.

—Relax —she whispered in my ear, warm breath pressed to my skin—. Not yet. When I say so.

***

The band had a second show that same night, in another neighborhood. While we were packing up, Lorena suggested to my parents that they should go get some rest, that I could stay over at her place so they wouldn’t have to keep driving around so much. She said it with perfect naturalness, looking at them and not at me. My parents agreed without thinking. Why would they suspect anything.

I got into her car with sweaty hands. As soon as we pulled off, she spoke without taking her eyes off the road.

—Did your dick really get hard with my hand? Don’t lie to me.

—Yes —I said. It was almost a whisper.

She let out a low, rough laugh and slid her right hand from the gearshift to my leg. It climbed slowly, unhurried, until she rested her palm right where it shouldn’t have been.

—Open your pants —she ordered. It wasn’t a request.

I obeyed. My clumsy fingers fought with the button and, when I finally managed it, her hand slid inside my boxers and grabbed my dick with a firmness I hadn’t expected. She pulled it out of my underwear, left it exposed, and started jerking me off slowly, very slowly, squeezing at the base and gliding up to the tip with her open palm, spreading the thick bead already leaking from my head until it shone under the streetlight.

—Look at you. Look how you’re dripping and I haven’t even done anything —she said in that voice made for giving orders—. Is that what you do with your aunt, fatty?

When I let out a moan, she gave the tip a hard squeeze, almost a punishment, and clicked her tongue.

—Don’t make a sound unless I give you permission —she said—. That’s the deal. If you come in my hand without me telling you, I’ll kick you out of the car and you can sleep on the street. Understand?

—Yes —I panted, biting my lip so I wouldn’t moan again while she kept moving her fist up and down, measuring every inch of me with her fingers.

She pulled over at an overlook from where you could see the city lights. She turned off the engine, took off her shoes, and, before I understood what she was doing, lifted her leg and rested the sole of her foot on the dashboard. She had small feet, perfect, with nails painted a dark red. My mouth went dry.

—Ah —she said, watching my face—. So that’s what it is.

I didn’t need to confess anything. She read it in the way I looked. She lowered her foot from the dashboard and brought it, slowly, to my crotch. She pressed her bare sole against my hard dick and started squeezing it through my open pants, rubbing up and down with her toes, pressing her heel into my balls with measured force that made me close my eyes.

—Look at me —she ordered—. Look at what I’m doing to you with my foot and look at how it’s leaking all by itself.

I dropped my eyes and saw the little sole resting on my swollen cock, the red nails brushing the tip already spitting out another thick drop. Her toes closed around my glans, squeezed it, let it go.

—Is your first time going to be obeying me? —she asked, and there was no answer to that question except one—. Better for both of us. Because experienced women aren’t argued with, boy. You say yes, ma’am, and you open your mouth when they ask.

I put my hand between her legs almost by instinct, pulled her panties aside and found her already soaked, her cunt swollen, shaved lips hot against my fingers. I slipped one in and felt her clamp down around it. Lorena closed her eyes for a second and let out a tiny sound of approval before knocking my hand away with a sharp slap.

—That has to be earned —she said, and brought my wet finger to her mouth to suck it slowly, never taking her eyes off me—. We’re going home. I’ll teach you properly there.

***

The drive to her apartment felt endless. I was on the edge of something that had no name, outwardly calm and inside a chaos, my cock marking my pants the whole way. When we got in, she poured herself a beer, handed me a glass of water —“not you, you’re still a kid”— and led me to the room where she kept the computer.

—Sit —she told me.

I sat in the chair and she settled on my lap, facing away, as if we were about to watch something on the screen. Her weight, her perfume, the heat of her ass pressing into my crotch: I was hard as a rock again and she noticed instantly. She started moving on top of me, in slow circles, rubbing her ass against my dick while pretending to look for a song. With one hand she guided my fingers to her tits, made me squeeze them over her T-shirt, pinched my fingers over hers so I’d learn where and how.

—Behave and the night is long —she said without turning around, wiggling her ass harder—. Misbehave and I send you to sleep on the couch, and you keep jerking off alone thinking about me. Understand?

—Understood —I answered.

—Understood, what?

I hesitated for a second.

—Understood, ma’am.

I felt her smile without seeing it. She got up, took my hand, and dragged me into the bedroom.

By then the beer had loosened something in her gaze, a decision that left no room for doubt. She took off her clothes until she was left in a black set that framed her firm tits and round ass, and made me stay in my boxers, standing in the middle of the room, while she walked circles around me as if evaluating me. She ran a nail along the edge of the waistband, pulled it down just enough to see the base of my cock, then pulled it back up.

—Kneel —she said.

I did it without thinking. The floor was cold. She sat on the edge of the bed, took off her bra and left her tits bare —round, firm, with dark nipples already hard—, lifted one foot and brought it close to my face.

—If you like them that much —she murmured—, show me how much. Suck them one by one. All of them. And don’t forget a single one.

I took her ankle with both hands and started tracing her foot with my mouth, slowly, as if it were something fragile. I ran my tongue over the instep, up the arch, down to the heel. Then I took her big toe into my mouth and sucked it like it was something else, swallowing it to the back, pulling it out with a thread of saliva. She threw her head back and let out a long sigh. I went one by one, coating them with spit, licking between her toes, barely biting the sole.

—That’s it, fatty —she panted—. Look at you obeying me. Look at how much you like being your aunt’s little dog.

Every word turned me on more. With her other foot she pulled my boxers down to my knees and pressed her sole against my naked dick, setting a rhythm with her wet toes, squeezing my balls with her heel, bringing me to the edge and stopping just before it, again and again, until the only word I had left was please.

—Please what? —she asked, enjoying every second, while she rolled the tip of my dick between the toes of both feet, holding it like it was a toy.

—Please let me come —I said, my voice breaking.

—Not yet. You come when I tell you and where I tell you.

***

She stripped completely without hurry, like someone taking off a weight, and made me take the rest of my clothes off too. Then she pushed me by one shoulder until I fell back onto the bed and settled on top of me, running her mouth all over me, from my neck to my chest. She sucked my nipples until they were hard, bit them lightly, went down my stomach leaving a trail of warm saliva while I dug my nails into my palms to hold out.

When she got to my dick, first she looked at it. She grabbed it at the base, lifted it, and showed it to me as if it were hers.

—What a pretty one you’ve got, nephew. And all mine tonight.

She stuck out her tongue and licked me from my balls to the tip, long and unbroken, coating me completely with spit. She sucked my balls one by one, took them into her mouth, let them go with a wet sound. Then she settled herself, parted her lips, and swallowed me in one go, all the way in, until I felt the tip of my cock touch the back of her throat. She started moving up and down, sucking hard, cheeks hollowed, looking me in the eye the whole time, spitting a strand of saliva over me when she pulled off to breathe and then taking me back in whole.

—Now —she said, lifting her head and speaking with her mouth still full of drool—. Now you can. On my face, fatty. Come on my face.

She took me back in and started jerking me with her hand while she sucked the tip. I couldn’t hold out more than a few seconds. I came with my whole body shaking, a long stream on her tongue, another hitting her cheek, another between her tits, and she looked me in the eye the whole time, never letting go of my cock, milking me to the last drop, as if she wanted to burn my face into her memory in that moment. Then she ran two fingers over her face, gathered up the semen, and took it into her mouth without taking her eyes off me.

—Good boy —she said, swallowing—. Now it’s my turn, and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you.

It took me a while to catch my breath, but she didn’t give me any respite. She guided me with her hands, with her voice, with that calm authority she had over everything. She put me between her legs, opened her thighs with her knees, and pressed my face against her wet cunt.

—There. Stick out your tongue. Start at the bottom and go up. No, slower. Flatter. Suck my clit, don’t bite it. Like that. Like that, fatty, learn.

I ate her cunt until my jaw went numb, while she tugged my hair and drove her heels —those tiny feet, those fucking feet— into my shoulder blades to set the rhythm. When she wanted more pressure, she shoved two of my fingers into her pussy along with my tongue, moving them herself, teaching me how. I felt her tighten around the fingers, soak my face with a warm gush, and she gave my hair such a hard yank that she almost made me scream.

—Slow —she ordered between pants—. The pleasure isn’t yours now. It’s mine.

When she was ready, she let me rise. She grabbed my cock —hard again, swollen, aching— and guided it herself to the entrance of her cunt. She made me push in slowly, a centimeter at a time, while she watched my face so she wouldn’t miss how my expression twisted as I sank for the first time in my life into a woman. I had to bite my lip until it bled not to finish at once. She was hot, tight, wet, and swallowed me whole like she had been waiting for me.

Lorena dug her heels into my back, those small feet that had driven me insane all night, and kept the beat with her voice.

—That’s it. Slower. More. Pull it almost all the way out and shove it back in to the hilt. Feel how your dick opens me, fatty. Feel how you’re giving it to your aunt. If you come without permission, I won’t forgive you.

We kept changing positions through the early hours of morning, her always in charge, deciding every move. Standing bent over the dresser, with her holding onto the furniture and me fucking her from behind while I tugged her hair like a rein. With her on all fours on the bed, looking at me over her shoulder, ordering me to hit her harder, to grab her ass with both hands, to shove one wet finger of her own spit into her asshole while I buried it all from the other side. She made me lie on my back and climbed on top of me, impaling herself on my cock and starting to bounce, driving me all the way in, with her tits rebounding against my face so I’d suck them in the rhythm she set. We even ended up by the balcony window, her pressed against the glass with her tits flattened cold against it, me behind her fucking her with my hands on her hips, without remembering to lower the blind; later I found out a neighbor in the building across from us had seen us, and Lorena, far from being bothered, loved that.

—Let her watch —she said through clenched teeth, her cheek pressed to the glass—. Let her learn how a kid gets taught to fuck.

We came almost at the same time, her finally giving me the order I’d been waiting for —“inside, fatty, empty yourself inside your aunt, now”—, me obeying even that, unloading in hot spurts deep in her cunt while I felt her clamp down around my cock and moan a hoarse “like that, like that” that made my ears tremble. When I pulled out, a white thread ran down her thigh to her knee, and she wiped it with two fingers and put them in my mouth so I’d suck my own cum. By the time everything quieted down, it was five in the morning and I was wrecked, emptied, happy in a way I had never known.

***

Before I left, well into the morning, she did one last thing with those feet of hers. She smeared the sole with a strawberry cream she had on the nightstand and made me lie on my back again. She placed both feet on my already tired cock and started working it between her soles, squeezing it with her toes, slowly going up and down while she looked down at me with a satisfied cat’s smile. When I got hard again, she dug her red nails into my balls and sped up, squeezing harder until another moan and a final feeble spurt landed on my stomach. Then she put her fingers there, stirred them through my semen, and ran them over my lips without saying a word.

She ordered me to get dressed and walked me to the door as if nothing had happened, perfect, completely in command of herself.

—You don’t talk about this with anyone —she said, adjusting the collar of my jacket—. And when I call you, you come. Clear?

—Clear, ma’am.

Since that night, she sets the rules. Some afternoons she writes to me and, when she can’t see me, she has me turn on the camera and obey her from a distance: she makes me undress for her, tells me how to hold my dick, when to speed up, when to stop, and doesn’t let me come until she comes first, showing me her open cunt on the screen. When she stays over at the house, we wait until everyone is asleep and I become what she wants me to be, the only thing she asks me to be: hers. She likes it when I call her a certain way, and I like giving it to her. I learned that obedience, in the right hands, can be the most exciting thing in the world.