I Taught My Husband’s Nephew What a Woman Is

This happened quite a few years ago now, but it still comes back to me when I’m bored. My stories are my own experiences, things I lived through and tell because I feel like it, and this one deserves to be kept somewhere. It all started with a call from my sister-in-law, who lived more than a thousand kilometers from the city where my husband and I had our home.

—The boy has to come for a few days for work —she told me, with that guilty voice people use when they’re asking for a favor—. If it bothers you, I’ll find him a boarding house and that’s that.

—We’d be delighted, woman —I replied—. How is he going to go to a boarding house? He has a room and food here.

I hung up the phone and cursed politeness. Having a kid from the family in my house meant interruptions, eyes where they didn’t belong, and, above all, a brake on the affairs that kept me sane. I’d been cheating on Octavio for years with the same cheerfulness with which he tied his tie every morning, and having a nephew in the guest room sounded like a sure nuisance.

I was wrong. I knew it at the station.

The day he arrived, we went to meet him on platform number five. Octavio was scanning the crowd for the kid we remembered from the last Christmas, that lanky teenage sort with pimples. A man got off the train. Twenty-one years old, broad shoulders, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a smile that was still a little awkward, but already carried the confidence of someone who knows he’s being looked at. His name was Iván. The two perfunctory kisses he gave me on the cheek smelled of cheap cologne, and he had big hands.

On the way home I changed my mind. I thought that, instead of being a stone in my shoe, he could be an entire week of fun under my own roof, without needing hotels, taxis, or excuses for Octavio.

I gave him three days to get acclimated. Three days of watching him eat breakfast in a wrinkled T-shirt, of bumping into him in a bathrobe in the hallway, of measuring how his eyes drifted to my cleavage when I bent down to pick something up. On the fourth day I decided the inventory was done and it was time to try the merchandise. I told Octavio I had things to do at home in the afternoon and preferred to eat out. My husband obeyed, because obeying was the only thing he was good at.

I put on a pair of jeans that clung to my ass like a second skin and a blouse with a neckline fit for a priest’s funeral. I went up to Iván’s room without knocking.

—Hi, sweetheart. I came to see how you’re doing —I said, kissing him on the cheek closer to the corner of his lips than was proper—. I want you to feel comfortable. This is your home too.

He was sitting in a chair listening to music with big headphones on. One glance at his crotch was enough to confirm what I already suspected: the bulge was growing at the speed of embarrassment. I sat on the edge of the bed, ran my hand over his thigh as if brushing away a wrinkle, and didn’t take it away.

—Sweetheart, do you miss any girl? —I asked.

He took a while to answer. He swallowed, made to speak, and in the end nodded. I slid my hand a little higher.

—It’s normal, you’re a young man. Your body needs what it needs —I went on—. And since you don’t know anyone here, your aunt is going to lend a hand. It’ll be our secret. Your uncle won’t find out.

I saw the fear in his eyes and I liked it. I asked him to stand with his back against the wall, and I yanked down his trousers and briefs in one go. What appeared was a cock of good size, bigger than Octavio’s without even trying. I took it with two fingers at first, almost disdainfully, and started stroking it slowly while asking him questions that didn’t need answers.

—Have you ever come thinking about me? In these three days?

He was looking at my tits, not my eyes. I knelt for a moment, brought my lips close to the tip, and just when he thought I was going to suck it, I pulled back. I wanted to make him beg. I kept going with my hand until the boy trembled all over.

—Lie down on the bed, sweetheart. You’ve been good. You deserve a reward.

He thought the reward was going to be me taking it in one of my holes. Poor thing. I unbuttoned my blouse, braless, and watched his breathing catch. I went back to my hand, this time with my breasts close to his cock, never quite touching it with them, playing with the distance. When he couldn’t take it anymore, I made him stand up, sat on the bed, and ordered him to finish on my chest. His semen spilled onto my collarbone and he let out a moan.

—Good nephew —I murmured—. We’ll talk tomorrow.

***

The next morning I went down to the kitchen before he did. I had put on a white dress with such a generous neckline that anyone would have guessed the color of my nipples in backlight. I wasn’t wearing a bra, or panties, or anything that deserved to be moved aside. When Iván appeared freshly awake, hair tousled and his face puffy with sleep, he gave me such a formal good-morning kiss that I wanted to laugh.

—Good morning, aunt.

—Good morning. Coffee or tea?

He had his back to me while I stirred the pan, but I could feel his eyes on my cleavage whenever I turned. I wasn’t going to do the work of pretending for him.

—What’s the matter, nephew? —I said, planting myself in front of him—. Did my tits get you hot again?

I didn’t give him time to answer. I yanked down his pajama pants and briefs in one motion. His cock came out into the open, already hard as a rock, as if it had been waiting for the signal for hours.

—Nephew, I think this needs special treatment.

I knelt on the kitchen floor, took his cock all the way into my mouth, and started sucking it slowly. He groaned loudly, too loudly.

—Aunt, you suck so well. You’re going to drive me crazy.

That was what I wanted. To drive him crazy, make him addicted to my mouth, leave my mark on him so every other woman would taste like nothing for the rest of his life. I sucked him for a good while, gauging his breathing. Whenever I felt he was close, I’d stop, blow cold air over the head, and wait for his pulse to calm down before starting again. Three times. Four. Until my knees started to hurt.

—Now it’s your turn —I said, standing up—. I got on my knees. Return the favor.

He stood there, still wearing his shirt and nothing from the waist down, while I, still covered by the dress, stripped it off in one movement. I had on a tiny thong, black garter belt, and thigh-high stockings. I’d put it on on purpose, calculated to the millimeter, so he’d give in before we even started.

—On your knees, nephew.

He obeyed. I pulled the thong aside with two fingers to expose the shaved cunt beneath, and grabbed him by the nape with my other hand.

—Eat me. And pray I like your manners.

He stuck out his tongue and got to work. He had some idea, he wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t an expert either. He lacked patience and was too eager. Even so, he found a couple of good spots and, against my will, I ended up coming with one hand pressed to the back of his neck and the other over my nipple.

—Aunt, I’m doing it right, aren’t I?

—You’re the worst one who’s ever eaten me out —I replied without looking at him—. I came out of boredom, not because of any merit of yours. But you caught me generous. Lie down.

He lay down on the kitchen floor, his cock pointing at the ceiling like a mast. I came close, set my pussy against the tip and paused before lowering myself.

—Are you finally going to let me fuck you? —he asked.

—Finally I’m going to use your cock, sweetheart. I’m going to do whatever I feel like with it, and you’re going to keep quiet.

I lowered myself slowly, millimeter by millimeter, watching his face drain. Before taking him all the way in, I stopped.

—I’m in the mood for you to lick my tits. Whether you do it well or not will decide if this goes on. If you convince me, I’ll give you my cunt all the way. If not, you stop halfway and I go have breakfast.

I brought one nipple to his mouth. He licked it with ridiculous urgency, pure fear, panicked that I’d pull my cunt away and leave him dry inches from paradise. I let him at it for a while. Just enough.

—Pass, barely. Today you get a reward.

I started riding him, gripping the back of a chair for support. As I moved on top of him, I couldn’t stop talking to him.

—Useless piece of shit, prove to me I didn’t make a mistake letting you in.

—You’re more like your uncle than you think. You’re the same disaster in two different bodies. Suck them, come on.

I brought my nipples to his mouth and he started sucking them as if his life depended on it. He wasn’t a championship cocksucker, but he was trying. And me, I don’t know if it was the dirty element of the situation, insulting a family member while I was fucking him, or all of it at once, but the truth is I was enjoying myself like I hadn’t enjoyed myself in months. I changed positions, made him get on top, opened my legs at an angle awkward for him and comfortable for me, and let him move.

He came sooner than I would have liked. I’d come a minute earlier, so I let him have the luxury. When he finished, I propped myself up in the chair and looked down at him.

—Nephew, you take after your uncle. You’re both a pair of cuckolds and mediocre fuckers. The good thing is you’ve got room to improve while you’re in my house. And it’s important that you improve. For your sake, not mine.

I went to the bathroom to clean off the saliva marks. He stayed lying on the kitchen floor, looking like he didn’t quite understand what had happened, or what was going to happen next.

***

On the last day of his stay, Octavio left early for the office. Iván was still asleep when I went into his room. I had put on a blouse, a skirt, and nothing else. I pulled back the sheet and found him naked, on his back, his cock already half-awake.

—Good morning, nephew. So you sleep naked. Useful.

I gave him no time. I knelt beside the bed, took his cock in one hand, and started running my tongue along its entire length without taking it into my mouth. I unbuttoned my blouse myself, let my tits out so he could see them, and went back to my hand.

—Little nephew, you’re lucky. I’ve got a sudden urge to have my cunt filled and right now I only have two options: your cock or a carrot. I feel sorry for you, so I’m choosing you. I’m not convinced you’ll give more pleasure than a vegetable, but today I’ll let you prove it.

I took off my skirt, got up on the bed, and made him grip his cock with his hand to guide it. I lowered myself until I felt it enter and stayed still for a moment, letting him get that slaughtered-lamb look on his face that suited him so well. Then I started moving.

—Enjoy it, sweetheart. You’re not often going to have a cunt this close with a cock as ridiculous as yours.

His hands went to my ass and he started squeezing it with a new urgency. I got tired of the position, pulled his cock out, got down, and, without a word, lifted myself up to sit on his face.

—Eat your aunt’s cunt. And this time do it with feeling.

He stuck out his tongue and started giving me long, deep licks, with an enthusiasm he hadn’t shown the day before. He’d learned something. He caught me off guard and I came almost without noticing, which forced me to come up with a quick excuse.

—I’m really worked up today, sweetheart. Don’t think it’s because of you. You don’t even do it halfway decently.

His cock was still hard. It was too calm a morning to waste. I lay down on the bed, opened my legs, and made him kneel between them. I lifted one leg and rested it on his shoulder.

—Let’s see if for once you’re going to do things right. I want to come. If you manage it, I’ll let you come too. If not, you’ll stop halfway, go downstairs for breakfast, and hold it until the train.

He started moving. And, against all odds, he did it well. He fucked me to the hilt, picked up the pace, found the angle. I came trying not to show it, and almost managed. His groans warned me in time.

—If you’re going to come, pull out —I ordered—. Not in the cunt.

The order hurt him, but he obeyed. He pulled out and stayed kneeling over me, jerking himself.

—Open your mouth and come here. I want half inside and half on my face.

He did exactly that. Then he collapsed onto his side, panting, and I got up to fetch tissues without saying a word. Before leaving the room, I looked at him over my shoulder.

—Shower before you go downstairs. You stink of me.

***

Two hours later Iván was boarding a train at the same station where we’d picked him up. Octavio hugged him like he was a son. I gave him two kisses, nothing more. His sister-in-law called me the next day to thank me for having treated the boy so well. I told her it had been a pleasure.

Nothing in this life lasts forever, and my husband’s nephew’s visit didn’t either. But since then we’ve run into each other at weddings, First Communions, and funerals. Iván always finds the moment to be alone with me in some corridor, under one excuse or another. And I, when I’m in the mood, humiliate him however I feel like at the time, knowing that far from being bothered, he lives for those minutes. Octavio has never found out. And even if he did, I don’t think it would change anything.