Aunt Helen At The Door
Neighborhood MILFs
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
latergator
… found himself face-to-face with his aunt, Helen.
Her medium-length, auburn hair was worn in the same old short, curved heart-shape side-bob she’d always worn it for as long as he could remember, though Paula had told him and shown him photos of a time where she wore it in a long ponytail. Covering her upper body, including her plump, but smaller than Paula or Angie’s, bosom, was a simple, dark-red sweater that started from the base of her neck, reaching over her arms to before halting at her forearms, and stopped just above her sizable hips. From there, a pair of bright-pink pants took over and reached down to above her ankles, somehow containing those wide, massive hips, her thick, meaty thighs, and, though James couldn’t see it at the moment, the built, bouncy budonk that put Paula, Angie, and damn near every milf in the neighbourhoods to shame. James barely took notice of her black shoes; he was too busy fighting hard to not let his face grow red as images of his aunt’s divine derriere crept into his teenage mind.
Helen stood there with a closed fist raised near to the door. James realized that she had been about to knock when he had opened it in his haste. She seemed just as taken aback to see him as he was to see her, with brown eyes enlarged and auburn eyebrows raised, but soon enough the surprise melted from her pretty face as her expression grew warm and friendly.
“James! Hello!” She said as she quickly stepped forward to engulf her nephew in a big hug. The teen returned the hug earnestly, if awkwardly, thanks to feeling of his aunt’s soft, pliable body pressing into him. It didn’t mold around him as well as Angie’s did, seeing as Helen was in much better shape than the hippie, and as such lacked the additional flab to spread across him, but she was still squishy enough to bring a heat to his cheeks. Luckily for him, she pulled away before his hormonal body could manifest any other signs of his enjoyment at the contact.
Helen looked at him a beaming smile on her silky lips. “You’re just who I was looking for! Remember you said you’d be available for chores? Well, I’ve got a whole lot of chores I could use some strong hands to help out with. Don’t worry. I’ll pay your rates in full.”
“A-Actually, Helen…” James began, but paused himself. He was about to tell her that he had something on today, and had even just been heading there before bumping into her, but as he thought it over, he realized that he definitely needed the money. He knew that going with Helen would mean leaving Angie to her back pain, but he figured that, if he was fast enough helping out his aunt with her chores, he could most likely make it back to help his neighbor with plenty light to spare.
“… that sounds great. I’m all in.” Said James, completing his sentence.
Helen’s smile grew even brighter. “Great!” She exclaimed as she took his hand in her own soft, yet hardened one and tugged him along with that unfitting strength of her’s that James could never get used to. The teen was barely fast enough to shut the door behind him as he was whisked from the house and onto the drive, his aunt guiding him towards her car. James kept his gaze locked to the back of her head, for he knew that if his gaze fell down and he witnessed those cheeks rubbing against each other with her every step, a tent would spring up instantly within his pants, and if Helen saw that, he would surely die on the spot of embarrassment.
As the two got into Helen’s car, the aunt in the driver’s seat and the nephew in the passenger’s, James spared an apologetic look at Angie’s house. I’ll make it up to you, he told to himself, hoping that she could somehow hear it. Then a key was turned, an engine came to life, and he was off with Helen to her farm.
For the first ten minutes of the hour long drive, the pair said nothing, content to listen to the music from the radio as the world passed by outside. Somewhere between minute eleven and minute twelve, however, James glanced at Helen and asked curiously, “So how’s Violet?”
Violet, Helen’s daughter, James’ cousin, had the same power that he did: the ability to turn herself into objects. Unlike him, however, she didn’t have a carer who only cared about abusing that power for her own benefit. She had a loving, amazing mom and dad who would never think twice about it, and James would never, in the depths of his heart, not be jealous of that. But he’d also never let that envy ruin their relationship. They were good friends, bonded by the weird power they shared, and James was looking forward to seeing her again.
Helen waited for a set of traffic lights to let her go before she answered him.
Her medium-length, auburn hair was worn in the same old short, curved heart-shape side-bob she’d always worn it for as long as he could remember, though Paula had told him and shown him photos of a time where she wore it in a long ponytail. Covering her upper body, including her plump, but smaller than Paula or Angie’s, bosom, was a simple, dark-red sweater that started from the base of her neck, reaching over her arms to before halting at her forearms, and stopped just above her sizable hips. From there, a pair of bright-pink pants took over and reached down to above her ankles, somehow containing those wide, massive hips, her thick, meaty thighs, and, though James couldn’t see it at the moment, the built, bouncy budonk that put Paula, Angie, and damn near every milf in the neighbourhoods to shame. James barely took notice of her black shoes; he was too busy fighting hard to not let his face grow red as images of his aunt’s divine derriere crept into his teenage mind.
Helen stood there with a closed fist raised near to the door. James realized that she had been about to knock when he had opened it in his haste. She seemed just as taken aback to see him as he was to see her, with brown eyes enlarged and auburn eyebrows raised, but soon enough the surprise melted from her pretty face as her expression grew warm and friendly.
“James! Hello!” She said as she quickly stepped forward to engulf her nephew in a big hug. The teen returned the hug earnestly, if awkwardly, thanks to feeling of his aunt’s soft, pliable body pressing into him. It didn’t mold around him as well as Angie’s did, seeing as Helen was in much better shape than the hippie, and as such lacked the additional flab to spread across him, but she was still squishy enough to bring a heat to his cheeks. Luckily for him, she pulled away before his hormonal body could manifest any other signs of his enjoyment at the contact.
Helen looked at him a beaming smile on her silky lips. “You’re just who I was looking for! Remember you said you’d be available for chores? Well, I’ve got a whole lot of chores I could use some strong hands to help out with. Don’t worry. I’ll pay your rates in full.”
“A-Actually, Helen…” James began, but paused himself. He was about to tell her that he had something on today, and had even just been heading there before bumping into her, but as he thought it over, he realized that he definitely needed the money. He knew that going with Helen would mean leaving Angie to her back pain, but he figured that, if he was fast enough helping out his aunt with her chores, he could most likely make it back to help his neighbor with plenty light to spare.
“… that sounds great. I’m all in.” Said James, completing his sentence.
Helen’s smile grew even brighter. “Great!” She exclaimed as she took his hand in her own soft, yet hardened one and tugged him along with that unfitting strength of her’s that James could never get used to. The teen was barely fast enough to shut the door behind him as he was whisked from the house and onto the drive, his aunt guiding him towards her car. James kept his gaze locked to the back of her head, for he knew that if his gaze fell down and he witnessed those cheeks rubbing against each other with her every step, a tent would spring up instantly within his pants, and if Helen saw that, he would surely die on the spot of embarrassment.
As the two got into Helen’s car, the aunt in the driver’s seat and the nephew in the passenger’s, James spared an apologetic look at Angie’s house. I’ll make it up to you, he told to himself, hoping that she could somehow hear it. Then a key was turned, an engine came to life, and he was off with Helen to her farm.
For the first ten minutes of the hour long drive, the pair said nothing, content to listen to the music from the radio as the world passed by outside. Somewhere between minute eleven and minute twelve, however, James glanced at Helen and asked curiously, “So how’s Violet?”
Violet, Helen’s daughter, James’ cousin, had the same power that he did: the ability to turn herself into objects. Unlike him, however, she didn’t have a carer who only cared about abusing that power for her own benefit. She had a loving, amazing mom and dad who would never think twice about it, and James would never, in the depths of his heart, not be jealous of that. But he’d also never let that envy ruin their relationship. They were good friends, bonded by the weird power they shared, and James was looking forward to seeing her again.
Helen waited for a set of traffic lights to let her go before she answered him.
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June 1
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