WARNING !. This blog may contain highly pornographic Incest / Fetish material that could emotionally be disturbing to some. Please avoid going through this blog if you are UNDER 18 or are sensitive towards Incest-Fetish porn.

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 13 of 37


 

CHAPTER TWELVE:

On Wednesday, 10th of January 1991, I had lectures till 1.00 pm as usual. As soon as lectures were over I rushed to Bambalapitiya where there are several fancy shops and malls. I wanted to buy a gift for Aunt Hillary but had no idea of what to buy. After loitering from shop to shop for a while, I finally settled down for a small bottle of perfume that suited my limited budget. I got the salesgirl to wrap it with an artificial red rose attached to it, tided with a red ribbon.

I also visited the barber’s shop on my way and had a fresh haircut and a full face shave. The door to the living room was closed when I returned home. Aunt Hillary had not come out to the verandah to read as she usually did. I found a note under my door which said “Expect you at 7.00 pm Love!” I had enough time to have a shower and get ready. I opted to wear a long-sleeved Golden color ‘Kurta’ shirt with a white pair of cotton baggy trousers. I had a pair of gold tinted boat shoes that went matching with the Kurta.

I tapped at the living room door at exactly seven as I had finished getting dressed about fifteen minutes earlier. I was rehearsing how I should greet Aunt as I enter the house and was waiting impatiently till the clock struck seven. The door opened on my first knock. Aunt Hillary was wearing the same knee-length black dress she wore to the FKC dinner party about a month ago. The only differences I noticed were that she hadn’t got a shawl around her shoulders and that she had her hair loose.

She said “Hi Love!” flashing a bright smile. I forgot all the lines I had rehearsed. I just said “Hi” shyly and presented the gift I had bought her.

“Oh! Thank you! And how lovely of you” she hugged me and placed a kiss on my cheek. The Jasmine fragrance of the perfume she wore filled my nostrils. The house was lit dimly, with a soft music playing at the back-ground creating a rather cozy and romantic environment. It was Kenny-G’s “Song Bird” that was playing; one of Aunt’s favorites as I later got to know.  Kenny-G’s album ‘Duotones’ had been the last record uncle Bill had presented her, bought as soon as it was released in Australia in August 1987.

Only two chairs were placed across the shorter-span of the six-chair dining table. The table was laid beautifully; a full-course candle-light dinner. Two large candle stands were placed on either side of the table. A bottle of wine was placed in a chiller with two wine glasses next to it.

“Shall we talk over having Dinner? If not I’m afraid the food would get too cold” Aunt Hillary asked pausing a bit at the living room area.

“Of cause yes! You have taken great trouble in preparing a wonderful dinner” I complimented her efforts.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I used to do this quite often when Bill was around. But since I have not done it in a long time, it took me quite some time to find these candle-stands and other stuff though” She said with laughter while ushering me to the table. I pulled the chair for her and made her sit before I crossed over and sat on the chair in front of her.

“Though it may not be the proper order, I suggest we start with some wine? I hope it would reduce my nervousness a bit. Please!” she winked at me and motioned me to open-up the bottle of wine. I opened the bottle and poured it into the glasses.

“To us!” she proposed a toast. We started sipping the wine munching on the appetizers. There was a bit of a silence for a moment. Then Aunt Hillary looked at me over her plate and giggled.

“What?” I asked a bit embarrassed guessing I was doing something wrong.

“Sorry! I actually can’t still believe I’m doing this. Just that morning-after the party I had almost made-up my mind not to keep you here anymore. And today, leave alone just agreeing to keep you along; I’m dating you like a little teenage girl. You clever brat! You certainly knew your way to cajole me in to getting me to do what you wanted know?” She asked in a playful voice while tapping on to my shin with her sandal. First I thought it was accidental knock and my reflex-action was to pull-back my leg. Then she winked at me to let me know it was deliberate and gulped down the remaining wine of her glass.

“You know? You may be a year or so younger to my son but I actually felt very excited this afternoon when I thought I was having a date in the evening. May be I should have forced myself to have a romantic side to my life even after Bill passed away? Some more wine please!” she said passing the glass towards me.

“Okay! So I’ve promised to educate you in certain fields of knowledge. Now that I can’t think of anything romantic to tell you, you can ask me anything you wish to know about” Aunt Hillary asked sipping her second glass of wine.

“Ur? Tell me a little about your son Harry” I said for what reason I still don’t understand.

“Yea! What about Harry? She seemed to be confused a bit.

“Well, you told me that Both Uncle Bill and Harry have rubbed your feet. And that Harry never crossed the line like I did. I mean how was it? I can’t imagine a guy not to have any feelings touching beautiful feet such as yours; even if it is his own mother?” I was finding it difficult to express myself. Deep down I was just jalousie of Harry may be? Meanwhile, Aunt Hillary was giving me a very odd look, smiling while biting her lip on a side and tapping her fingers on the table.

“Don’t judge other by your standards. Why? You found it incestuously erotic?” she asked me with a question mark.

“Inces..? What does that mean?” I asked.

“Never mind! ‘Incest’ means sexual relationships between very closely related people. Most common are Mother-Son, Father-daughter, Sister-Brother, Uncle-Niece and Aunt-Nephew etc. Incest is illegal nowadays, though it seems to have not been so rare among some well-known royal families according to history and folklore. Liking to fantasize about incest relationships and reading about such stories is a rather common fetish. But one must be very careful when associating such a fetish” Aunt Hillary explained.

“Oh! No aunty. I didn’t mean anything bad between you two. It was just that I was curious and may be a bit jealous of Harry” I said.

“Hah hah ha. That’s all right. And I wouldn’t blame you if you have likeliness’s toward incest stories. It is a common subject among erotic literature. It was one of Uncle Bill’s favorites too. You might find several books and magazines on the subject in the study room. You want to hear more about Uncle Bill’s Incest fetish?” she asked in a soft seductive voice. Then she bent herself a bit and reached underneath the table. She would have un-buckled her sandal off her foot cause I felt the high-heeled sandal dropping on the floor beside my foot.

“May be you’ll like a bit of footsie play under the table while listening to my erotic stories?” she said while placing her naked foot on my shin and caressing upwards through my trouser leg. I had a faint idea of what playing footsie meant and was aroused in an instant.

“You must learn to cope with such advances and still concentrate on what you do. Having full control of yourself while also enjoying it. That’s the real pleasure of footsie play I recon. Just imagine a girlfriend of yours doing it at a public restaurant or a female superior of yours at your workplace playing footsie with you while a business meeting is in progress? You must have to practice to master it as an art” she said as she rhythmically ran her foot up and down on my shin and calf.

“Bill had lost his parents when he was very young. So he had no memory of his mother. I was almost three years older to him. Besides I was the one who supported him and took care of him within the first few years of our marriage, like a mother! That was until he completed his studies and got a job. As I was virtually like a mother to him, he called me as ‘Mama’ or ‘Mommy-girl’. Despite the teachings of the church Bill believed in re-incarnation. He always said that I would have been his mother in one of his previous births. Ancient Indian scripts say that, one’s lover would always have been his/hers Father-Mother-Sister-Brother-Son or Daughter in a previous birth. Thus, there is nothing wrong in loving your partner as same as one of them. I don’t know whether fantasizing one’s lover to be one of them is permitted under such thinking.

When we used to make love and Bill neared reaching his climax; he would scream the word “Mama Ooh! Mama” He once asked me whether it was okay for me to pretend that he was my son when we made love. I kind of liked it. So we often had those mama-son sex sessions. I must admit that I too got a bit extra excited when by ‘Billy-boy-son’ came for me” Aunt Hillary said with a seductive smile. Now her foot had reached my knee. I came forward on my chair so that her foot could rest on my lap.

“Speaking of Harry, my son and I have always had a very special bondage. Bill and I had to wait for five years before we were stable enough to have a baby. I was twenty-six when Harry was born and Bill was a trainee co-pilot. I took a break from working and devoted my whole time in nursing Harry. I breast fed him for six months with no other additional foods given. I had plenty of breast-milk and besides milk powder were very scares at that time. All food items were given out on rations during the 70’s. Thank God I sometimes had enough milk for even the son and father both. Bill loved to suckle my milky breasts once Harry has had his tummy full. Would you imagine that Harry was fond of breast milk till he was about five years old? And that I produced milk for him in my breasts till he was that old?” Aunt Hillary asked with a chuckle.

“We could have gone on with it for some more time but we thought that we should put an end to it before Harry started schooling” she pressed her foot on my thigh. I re-adjusted myself on the chair spreading my legs and making room for the enormous bulge under my pants.

“From the very start Bill and I decided that we should bring-up our son in a very open and honest environment about sexuality. Though it was challenging in a society such ours, we tried as much as possible to give Harry body-confidence and not let him be shamed or uneasy towards nudism. We were members of the Otter’s Swimming club and it was almost a routine for us to spend our Sunday morning’s there. It was relatively less crowded on Sunday mornings as only a few non-church-going families such as us showed-up on Sunday mornings.  Harry loved the pool since he was a kid and that’s why we got that dip-in-pool built at the court yard. Whether it was at the club or at home here, it was not a strange thing to him to see me in a two-piece bikini. It was in fact as if it was my normal attire on warm afternoons at home; a silk robe over a two-piece bikini” she smiled at the flickering light of the candle.

“As I told you, we spent at least one of our holyday’s abroad every year because we got air tickets almost free from the air line. Our destinations mostly were warm and sandy beaches. We always found beaches to be very erotic!” She said tapping a foot slightly on my bulge at my crotch.

“The softness of the sand, the waves lapping on the shore one after another rhythmically, the distant horizon, swaying palms and the gentle breeze; all that creates a unique sense of eroticism to me. The sea; the very place where life began! Isn’t it soothing, exotic and so erotic?” Aunt Hillary mesmerized in her thoughts for a while with her eyes closed and rhythmically stroking over the bulge in my pants with her toes.

“The Turtle islands, Caicos islands, the Shoal bay and Cas-Aboa in the Caribbean’s, Lalaria Skiathos in Greece, the Las-Islas-Cies in Spain, the Lagoon in Turkey, the Seychelles and Mexico; the list would almost be endless. Phi-Phi islands in Thailand and the White-Heaven in Australia were among our favorite destinations” she continued.

“The list includes a few topless and nude beaches too. We visited Eastney beach in Portsmouth, Hampshire and the Paraiado Aboco beach in Brazil before Harry was born. It was when Harry was about ten years old that Bill got an invitation from one of his friends; ‘Robby’ to spend the summer holidays with them. The Karadhashian family was all nudists and they had planned to spend the vacation at a place called the Marguerite Sun Club, just off London. So we had a chat with Harry and explained to him what it was going to be like and asked whether he would be comfortable with it. He said he wouldn’t mind.

The club was a nine-acre camp-site with pools and other sports facilities. It was only us and the Karadhashian’s on the camp that week. Robby’s wife Kris and I became good pals as soon as we met and Harry too got along great with their three daughters. Though Robby and Kris were a few years younger to us, their second daughter Kim was as the same age as Harry. As we had never being totally nude in front of Harry before, I felt shy and found it a bit difficult to get adjusted to it at the beginning. But Harry on the other hand seemed to take it much easier than us and started to play with the girls from the word ‘Go’. Ah! It was there I rode a horse for the first time. It was one hell of an experience to ride such a muscular creature while completely naked. That week was full of fun and joy” Aunt Hillary paused for a moment.

“So Unlike many other boys, I don’t think Harry was that desperate or curious to see his mother or any other women for that matter, naked. Nevertheless he liked my body very much and loved to cuddle me whenever he got a chance. He seemed to consider it as a privilege as well as one of his duties to rub Sunscreen on my back when sun bathing, or scrub my back when bathing. I used to bathe him till he was about six or seven years old and going to school. We had baths together in the tub in our master bathroom.

Giving me a foot-rub was no difference. ‘Like father-like son’ Harry too was very concerned about the beauty of my feet all right. He was sometimes a podiatrist healing my feet, sometimes a pedicurist beautifying my feet and sometimes a manicurist painting my toenails” My erected penis twisted painfully within my pants as Aunt Hillary paddled on it with her foot which was on my lap. I dropped my left hand under the table and held her Right foot which was making mischief under the table.


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