Babysteps and Her Minis

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College

Job’s hands twitched and his fingers ached to fondle those legs that she showed to such great effect. He had never seen a woman who could wear minis so stylishly. She could even wear corduroy skirts to work with great success. Her taste was flawless and he could term her dress decent when most people took mini skirts to be the opposite.

Instead he concentrated on his driving. This morning run always took him on this trip of admiring a woman who was his aunt, younger sister to his deceased mother. He did not even remember her face; he was told she died in giving birth to his small sister Beth. The mind took him back in time. His grandmother had taken the two of them in, a very large woman who found it difficult to walk, even in his earliest memories. She provided for their needs, but she had cruel streak. Her other daughter, named Lydia also lived with her, said to be a sister of his mother. The family of four lived on the largesse of the older woman.

Job began noticing that his aunt’s steps were shorter than other people’s. She therefore seemed to be taking quicker steps without actually moving any faster. He thought of them as ‘baby steps’. She began to show a liking for high shoes, which her mother only bought under protest. It became better when Lydia asked for the money and chose them herself; her mother still made noises against her choice of clothes but was not able to completely force her to buy those that she herself preferred.

Lydia was in college which she had had to interrupt after becoming pregnant by a local shopkeeper. This man had denied all liability, leaving Lydia to look out for herself. Literally, for as soon as her mother found out about her pregnancy, she was chased away into the cold. Had Lydia been an easy person, she would have ended up begging on the streets. But she was made of sterner stuff.

A few mornings later she had waited at the gate, taking care to be concealed. As soon as her mother opened and waddled over to the shop opposite, Lydia sneaked in and went straight to her room after snatching whatever she could find to eat. Of course it was snacks meant for the children’s breakfast, but she reasoned that her dead sister’s kids (whom she presumed were still asleep) had had a better time the previous evening; they had supper, while she had spent the night in the cold. She was not going to do that again if she could help it. Hiding in her room she ate the three slices of bread (fortunately already spread with margarine), a few biscuits and an orange. This was very ripe, juicy and sweet, giving her much needed energy, which she might need, when her mother caught her.

“Where have you taken the bread, you horrible children?” she heard her mother screaming from the living room.

“We have just woken up,” pleaded Job.

“Who has entered the house, and out of all these things, chose to steal chose bread and an orange?” Slaps rang out, followed by the plaintive cries of two small children who had just woken up. “Stop lying to me and bring back what you have taken.” More beatings could be heard, accompanied by shrieks of pain.

In Lydia’s mind the balance, which had earlier been in favour of the little orphans, now tipped the other way. “I took them, mummy!” she strode out into the living room. Her mother stared as if she had seen a ghost.

“Where have you come from?”

“I have not been far away, but I will not live in the fields like a mouse one more night!” the young woman declared. Her mother made a grab for her, knowing that if Lydia ran off she could not be fast enough to catch her. She had her foot on that of the young woman, as well as by the edge of her dress. This imbalanced Lydia so that she fell over backwards. The cane fell on her again and again. The house was filled with cries of pain, and of terror by the kids. But the older woman would not stop beating Lydia who was rolling on the ground trying to escape the blows.

“Didn’t I tell you I don’t want a harlot in my house? Why did you come back here?” yelled the irate mother.

“What is happening here?” a strong male voice was suddenly heard. He strode into the house without waiting to be invited. “Mama Lydia, stop please!” But she either did not hear, or did not heed.

The man, a neighbour, caught the cane as she raised in the air to deliver another blow, throwing the large woman off balance. She grabbed the side of the table to prevent a fall.

“Tell this harlot to leave my house!”

“Which harlot? Are you calling Lydia that?”

“This worthless girl dares to get pregnant before finishing college, wasting all the money I have spent on her from primary school! Let me finish her off!”

The man could now tell there was something serious afoot. “Let us talk about this. A solution has to be found.”

“Will talking bring back the lost money?”

“We have to find a way for her to complete her education so that she can begin earning her own. That way you will not have casino şirketleri lost any.”

The grandmother looked at the man, a teacher in the local school through narrowed eyes. “How will you do that?”

“Not myself alone. Together. Lydia, get up.” The grandmother sat heavily in the nearest sofa, Lydia choosing to sit as far as possible from her enraged mother.

“Children, come out of the corner now. Nobody will hit you. Come and sit here.” Njau did not know they had already tasted the cane.

“Lydia, please tell me the whole story.” Whereupon, with many sobs she unraveled the first tale of how her mother had thrown her out three days before.

“Why?” he asked. The girl continued sobbing.

“Tell him you have been whoring with boys at college instead of studying!” shouted her mother.

With a desperate courage, Lydia revealed that it was not any boy, but the shopkeeper who had lured her with small presents to become his friend, until finally he had had sex with her.

Her mother made to stand up, but her excessive weight did not lend itself to sudden moves. She slumped heavily back. “That rotten cheat. Not only robs us of our money, now he’s ruining our daughters.”

“Maybe, but right now the urgent business is to get the principal of the college not to throw Lydia out,” said the teacher. “If I go to him and explain the situation, will you pay next term’s fees?”

She glared hard at him, resenting his intrusion into her affairs, yet unable to refuse what he had asked. “Ask her if she will stop her harlotry,” pointing threateningly at Lydia.

“Mother, I want to finish my course. If Mr Njau convinces the principal, I will do my best.”

“For now you will continue until delivery. Then go back after a maternity leave,” said Njau with more conviction than he felt.

“What maternity leave? For…” Her finger was still pointing at Lydia.

Njau interrupted her. “That is exactly what I will talk to the principal about. I am sure he will agree to let her back into class. Anything you want to add, Mama Lydia?”

She seemed about to speak, but changed her mind. “Let us hear from the principal first.”

So Lydia did her units until she was ready to deliver, suckled her baby boy and returned to college. She graduated a year after she should have.

Job had always thought that his mother’s sister was good-looking but after bearing her child, she seemed to blossom in his eyes. Her cheeks filled out more, and while she sat suckling her infant, she often forgot herself, and let her legs part showing more of her ripe thighs. Job would position himself when he could ogle at her without making himself obvious. Afterwards in bed at night he would replay these scenes and get himself to the peak.

******************************

Job concentrated on the road ahead of him. He was driving his granny’s car, on a journey to take his aunt to work and then fetch some groceries and agricultural inputs for his grandmother. She had grown bigger and heavier from the days she could punish them as kids with a cane, to being unable even to drive. He stopped outside the bank where Lydia had found a job after graduating from the troublesome college, and had now worked for twelve years. He looked at the backs of her thighs as she moved with her characteristic short steps, noticing not for the first time, the double lines behind the knees. He followed her with lustful eyes until he heard hooting behind him; he was blocking other traffic. Like a railway signal, his cock was standing straight up. To relieve the pinching pain, he had to adjust it manually as he turned into the main street.

He could not wait for his aunt to return in the evening. He took his time fulfilling his granny’s errands and then drove home leisurely.

“You want to spend the rest of your life as an errand boy for your fat granny, Job?” she scolded him, though not in anger. She could easily continue supporting them all, and in addition Lydia was taking care of herself and her son as well as helping in some household expenses. Perhaps this knowledge had been the cause of his less than enthusiastic job search. He had actually gone through a course in actuarial science at the Poly and graduated near the top of the class. The first few insurance companies at which he tried to get a job were not to his liking. One of the insurers even took him on, but he wanted a management level job, so he turned them down in hopes of finding better. Sometimes he regretted refusing that offer, surmising that he could have been working his way up to that management position. On the other hand, he lacked nothing so his job hunting took on an almost reluctant quality.

“Why should auntie come and go by public means, gran?”

“What do you propose?” She had noticed his great liking for her, and now was almost sure she knew what was coming.

“I could pick her up in town. I need not drive into the jams. For example, I could casino firmaları park at the church compound where she can come on foot.”

“I have no objection,” said his grandmother. Thus was Lydia surprised to find him waiting at the staff entrance.

“What are you still doing here, Job? I thought you had work to do for your grandma.”

“Done,” said he mysteriously. “Follow me.” They cut diagonally across town, passing dejected-looking drivers and their passengers stuck in the jams. In less than fifteen minutes they were driving out of the church compound. From there he placed them onto the newly-built bypass. She insisted that they stop to fuel up, knowing her mother’s mean streak. Fifteen minutes after leaving the church gates they were driving in through their gate.

“Thank you, Job. That was really fast.” It usually took her more than ninety minutes from work to home. And that was only on a good day.

“Gran has more or less agreed that I can drop you and pick you by car. Of course you will put up some money for fuel. I can bet that when she notices that I am not asking for as much money for fuel as before she will not mention it.”

A week later he had taken far less, nearly half actually, for fuel. His grandmother only looked at him half-questioningly but did not speak as she handed him the money. Thus a happy rhythm was established, where Job used the car more often than its owner, at the same time making his auntie’s life more pleasant.

Having softened her thus far, she failed to notice that he touched her in conversation more often, and longer. One evening on the way home he laid his hand over hers as he drove. They were discussing nothing out of the ordinary.

“If you make the peas and carrots stew with some chunks of beef, I will make the chapatis.”

“Where did you learn that?” Her astonishment perhaps prevented her from noticing his hand, which had gone ahead to make contact with her thigh. It was only when he slid off her hand and squeezed her thigh lightly that she took notice.

“I am sure it was Beth who…” she was saying. “What are you doing, Job?”

“Admiring the most beautiful auntie in the whole world.” And moved his fingers onto the exposed part of her thigh. He expected she would push his hand off but she seemed mesmerised by his daring. Her eyes were fixed on the road. He rubbed his thumb on her flesh, seeing her jump as if in shock or maybe fear.

“Mmmh,” he moaned. When she turned her face towards him, he saw fear. This puzzled him. “My fondness of you does not stop at that only. I have admired your clothes for a long time.”

“Really?” she eyed him doubtfully. The conversation with their neighbour, Mr Njau so many years before came back to him at that moment. He had understood very little of it at the time, but now seemed to point the way out of his puzzlement. They drove on in silence.

A few evenings later he came upon her in the kitchen just fresh from her shower. She still had her bathrobe about her, which he thought was a bit unusual. But it presented him with an opportunity he was not slack to seize. Putting his arms around her from behind, he said softly near her ear, “What does my beautiful aunt want? Maybe I can fetch it for her.” Her body, at first having stiffened, relaxed somewhat.

“You have made me scatter-brained. I have forgotten what I came for when those arms touched me. We should not be doing this.”

Knowing his grandmother was already in bed, while Beth was at college and young Eliud was in boarding school, he had the run of the house. “What should I do instead?” Here he moved his hands towards her boobs. “This?” She stiffened again, but his thumb went under her breast, feeling the warmth gathered there. Then he kissed his auntie’s neck.

Her knees bent, lowering her from his mouth. “Stop that, Job, please!” But that movement had brought her boobs into his palms. She moaned, “Please let me go, you naughty boy!” He kissed her again, and her knees gave way completely. He held her, now to prevent her falling until he was bent double over her, boobs still in his palms. He let her kneel on the floor for a few seconds then began to stand her up.

“OK, sit here,” guiding her to one of the kitchen stools. He nuzzled her neck with one hand still full of titflesh and the other on her back. She leaned into him.

“What have you done to me?”

“I want to show you how much I love you.”

“Oh my! To think that the first person to tell me those words is one whom I have shared a house with all my life. Oh, my!” She trembled a bit as if from cold.

“Let me go to my room.” She got up shakily. He followed her closely up the stairs to her door. “Don’t come in. You have the power to unsort me. Please go to your room.” He took her face in his hands, watching it for any contradiction to her words. He found plenty, feeling another tremor in her body. He pulled her closer and planted a kiss right on her mouth. güvenilir casino Again he felt her knees giving way.

This time he held her up while guiding her to her bed. They sat down and he kissed her again. She allowed herself to moan. Then as if she had drawn strength from some new power, she broke the kiss, held him from her.

“Please go away. You are not good for me.”

He moved his finger down to her nipples and lightly pinched one. “Good night, beloved auntie!”

Her answer was a faint whisper. “Good night, my dear Job!” with her softly on his cheek.

With that he drew his arms slowly off her, down hers until only the fingers of each were in contact and eyes locked onto the other’s. Then he pulled off completely, backed out to her door without taking eyes off her. He pulled the door closed and at absolutely the last moment blew her a kiss. The last image he saw was of her sitting on the bed, hands clasped in her lap, eyes longingly on him. He was sure she would have wild fantasies of him doing all manner of things to her body that night. She would be on the point of creeping to his bed he knew, but would not dare.

He went to his room, prepared himself for bed, and ducked under the covers. He indulged in his usual fantasies of his auntie. He saw himself, instead of leaving her alone in her room that he got into her bed with her. His lips felt the nipples, the way the aureole were gathered together in her arousal. On this image he let fly his come, plastering his sheets with the slippery stuff. This, as usual sent him into a deep slumber.

Their rides to and from work afforded Lydia lots of opportunities to enjoy the company of her dead sister’s son, who had grown into such a manly youth. For many years since being taken advantage of by the shopkeeper she had held an aversion to men in general be it at college or in her workplace. But her nephew had managed to breach her defenses with apparent ease. She could not tell how it had happened, but now long-buried desires had burst to the surface; she had tried to hold them back but had found herself weak, even though the man who had brought her to this threshold was her nephew. She astonished herself to find she looked forward to the morning and evening rides with him. He touched her more boldly, which she could not find the strength to stop him doing, since he had already fondled her very sensitive breasts on another evening. If he offered to keep her company in her bed she felt she would not be able to stop him. Indeed the thought, while in the office, in the car or in her bed early in the morning, made her panties wet. ‘What have I become? Am I really lusting after my sister’s son? What would she think of me if she were to come back to life?’

Of course Job did not know of these in internal monologues, but all the same he took advantage of her preparation for bed. He walked brazenly into her room as she came from the bath and fondled her all over, firing her pistons without let. Both knew it was only a matter of time before they got into bed together. Which indeed happened five days after his first fondling of her in the kitchen.

He invaded her room like before but put his hands under her robe and tweaked her nipples. It was as if both were agreed that tonight was the night they were going to taste each other. When he kissed her they both collapsed onto the bed, her legs parting of their own accord, and his hand finding its way between her thighs, finding some warm dampness there. He touched her vaginal lips, causing her to let out a muffled cry. He parted them gently to find her slippery wetness, into which he snaked his forefinger.

“Aaaah, what are you doing, now?” But her legs were opening wider inviting him to delve deeper into her.

“Let me show you something better,” he said. She was almost sure she knew what it was, but in place of good sense she was only eager to receive his manhood. He lifted himself slightly to place his body over hers, with his cock nosing at his auntie’s cunt. They were both so greedy for each other that she opened her legs as wide as they would go, while he pushed firmly. She felt a slight pinch as he opened her almost unused cunt, driving into her depths. He pulled back, then drove back in again. He had never felt anything as wonderful as being grasped by his aunt’s cunt.

“You are so good, Job! Give me more of that delicious cock. Fuck me, my naughty boy!” These words catapulted them into orgasm in such a short time that it was as if they were just beginning. She felt a violent heat seize her suddenly and twist her body with great force. It travelled straight to the top of her head so that she feared it would puncture her crown. He wanted to scream his ecstasy but did not want to alarm his grandmother. It battered his poor body from head to toe. He poured his essence into her as his cock slid shallowly in and out of her ravaged cunt.

When they had got their breath back he crept off to his room and slept soundly until morning. At breakfast they could hardly keep their hands off each other, and in the car kept running hands over each other, wishing they could stop and give each other the more of the pleasure of the previous night.

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