"The Lure of Aunt Millie's Soles"

The lure of my aunt's oh-so-lickable feet, particularly in conjunction with her very curvaceous body, bright blue eyes and wickedly dominant demeanor, provided me a sexual fantasy that has never faltered. I had to wait till I was long into adulthood for any confirmation of my feelings from her, because before this period, at best she used covert teasing but refused to go further than a light-hearted smirk let alone any real physical contact. In recent years, practically by accident, some of this fantasy has started to become the reality I had wished for over decades. It still blows my mind

As an adolescent I suddenly became aware of Aunt Millie---not as my father's much younger sister and frequent visitor in our home, but as a my imagination's wild sex object. Her youthful approach coincided with the era, the early '70s. Auntie (as I always referred to her) is only fifteen years older than I, so by the time she began giving me a hard-on, she was younger than most aunts, a hot, shapely woman in her late 20s who exuded overt sexual hipness and spoke in a tough, street-wise fashion.

My aunt has always been rather plump but carried the majority of this weight in thick bulging breasts, wide hips and a big, round ass. It was just at this time that she'd bought a small house in a nearby suburban area, one my family, I'm happy to say, visited often. Better still, we'd very frequently stay there overnight to make a weekend trip of it. It was during these visits that I began to take notice of her, and fantasize about her. Over the next year or two, my fantasies began to move into some tangible items when I made secret trips into her master bathroom. These ventures provided me with Auntie's newly worn panties and stockings to fawn over and suck on as I masturbated myself to exhaustion. Her bedroom slippers offered imprints of her toes and heels which gave off an intoxicating odor when licked. I left them soaked in my saliva numerous times. Their fuzzy outsides made amazing rub-off material for my adolescent cock, but I was careful not to spill cum in them as I was terrified of being caught. I also made a feast of her strappy hi-heeled sandals sitting in the open bedroom closet but the best were the knee-high nylons I always found in her bathroom trash can. No runs in them, no apparent reason to discard, but she'd surely worn them to work, leaving a luscious scent that stayed with me always. A common practice was after deeply inhaling her scent and sucking on the toe areas, I would wrap one around my cock and pump as I inhaled the other. I left more than a few cummy stockings in her trash, assuming no one would look at these as they were already tossed out. It was only later that I began to realize she was purposely leaving these for me to find---and it's a good bet that she was checking on the condition of these stockings after I'd finished with them.

Aunt Millie obviously had seen me anxiously stare at her feet often enough to recognize the reward she was leaving me, but her gifts didn't necessarily stop at foot-wear. There would be the occasional bra, once even a sacred pair of panties which I almost came into instantaneously upon contact with my cock. I spent a good long time sucking on these and was even more drawn to the very slight brownish stain in back then the minimal scent in the actual crotch. I wanted this woman so bad. And then one day I found, sitting on the bathroom sink, her bikini bathing suit, still slightly wet from an earlier swim. I embraced the cups and traced out the insides with my tongue and then when I opened up the bikini bottom saw that it must have literally been just masturbated in. My hands shook and my find left me breathless. The sight of thick, gooey cream in the crotch was almost too much to take in at the time.

While she never dressed in an overtly sexy manner (to most), the common style of the day-snug jeans and tank tops -offered me a powerful view, particularly as I spent a great amount of the time sneaking peeks or even openly staring at her body. And as was the tenor of the times, she would get rid of the bra when she was relaxing; upon first realization of this, I became transfixed each time she'd bend or swivel. My wide eyes and pulsing erections, even at a tender age, were all too obvious. Even in a sweatshirt, when Auntie went braless you could see the unmistakable hang of her breasts and the definition of hard nipples against the thick fabric. She was sure to brush against me often and on a few occasions offered hugs in which her breasts lingered on my chest or shoulder, with her jokingly swaying back and forth, probably enjoying the sensation as much as I did. She knew she was successful when I'd head for the bathroom to get myself off and more than once she'd yell back to me to not look at the Frederick's of Hollywood lingerie catalog she'd left on the toilet tank. As I frantically masturbated my greatest vision was of her watching me but her actions and remarks told me that she at least knew damned well what I was doing in there.

As much as I was drawn to Auntie's tits, ass and hips, her feet drove me absolutely mad. During our visits when the family gathered in her living room, her chair was a leather recliner. Most of these visits were in spring or summer so as we sat around watching a TV program I could never focus on, Auntie would sit back on her chair, bare feet up and on perfect display. She was a frequent bare-footer and rarely wore shoes around the house or back yard, so the soles were inevitably dirty. This ranged from dusty and slightly soiled to the occasions where the soles had a terribly, wonderfully black outline. Not only can I credit this woman for giving me a life-long foot fetish but my craving of dirty soles also began with her. Even before I understood the power of a woman's feet to dominate, I fantasized about being alone with her in the living room as she reclined with me servicing her feet with a tongue bath. I longed to lick her soles clean and such each toe individually.

Auntie's reclining like this also offered a view of her armpits when she wore a tank top. This is a very, very forward woman who never seemed uncomfortable with having bare, dirty soles on display, so she'd very often sit with her arms up, hands clasped behind her head, fully displaying the armpits I desperately wanted to lick the sweat off of. I recall a number of times she hadn't shaved and the stubble enticed me greatly. She must have noticed the reaction so the next time, the underarms appeared to not have been shaved for a couple of weeks: fairly thick curls of dark brown showed up beautifully against her pail white skin. I so wanted to rub my face into her armpits, to deeply inhale the scent of her perspiration and lick and suck the hair. Once again, my armpit fetish, especially women with hairy armpits, dates back to Aunt Millie. The same thing goes for how much BBWs turn me on. Thick breasts, hips and especially fat asses are a major turn on still. And of course older women-the MILF concept was drilled into me at the time. Lastly, my fetish for dominant women-and when I really get into it dominant women who engage in things like humiliation, forced masturbation and light BDSM began with Auntie's quick temper and rapidly reddening face when she'd yell: I recognized early on that the grimace was not only another turn-on but almost certainly reflected her face when cumming. Often by the time my family would head back home, my cock had been worked so hard, it was rubbed raw.

Over the next few years, when I was in college and then early 20s, the intense attraction for my aunt only heightened. Though my catalog of fantasy women greatly increased, I always came back to this one. Even after I'd begun to actually get fairly regular sex on dates with women my own age, the Auntie fantasy was maintained. I began to fantasize some fairly wild scenes including her forcing me to service her with my tongue as I begged to fuck her. After the soles and toes were licked and sucked sufficiently, she would usually make me stand over her and masturbate as she watched me with her wide eyes and nasty grin. But she was in control of whether or not I would get to orgasm. I could imagine her shouting impatiently when I took too long and then forcing me to stop and dress so we could go visit her neighbor who got in on the action. Those fantasies were among the best and built into long, ongoing visions that included a room full of suburban housewives who lined up to have their feet cleaned by my slobbering tongue as Auntie watched and guided my mouth. Her tough chick persona easily led to lesbian fantasies about her so of course this sometimes included the women masturbating together as my aunt stuck her fingers deep inside one, then another, licking her fingers of the dripping juice and taunting me by letting me lick what remained from between her fingers.

My fantasies about Auntie involved a lot of this kind of humiliation, the focus of which was usually around the foot-dom I so wanted her to subject me to. A favorite, if less elaborate scene, was her reclining on the chair masturbating as I lovingly licked her feet clean. I am naked of course but she is fully dressed. Her eyes are shut and she wears a wicked smirk, busy hand buried inside her jeans. She then invites me to lap up first her armpits and then, pulling the tank top off, to suck her thick, hardened nipples. I beg her to take off her pants as my cock swells and turns to a purplish-blue (but I am not allowed to touch it). Finally she relents and slides the jeans and soaked panties off of the thick cheeks and wide hips. Spreading her legs, Auntie opens her hairy pussy for me and my mouth descends upon it. I could almost taste the essence as I envisioned her hot, heavy thighs around my face and ears, my hands greedily squeezing the fat globes of her ass. She moans low as my tongue explores her pulsating pussy and I suck on the throbbing clit. Auntie cums very hard, letting out a long, guttural, animal-like grunt with her bare soles facing up to the ceiling and my face pushed deep into her.

We are both out of breath now as I lift my head up and see a pool of her wetness on the leather seat, obviously dripping down her curves and off. She pushes my face into the chair and watches as I duly clean it with my waiting tongue. She then swings over in the chair, knees now into the seat, and pries those amazing cheeks apart so I can drink up the rest of her drippings----my tongue enters her asshole without hesitation and I swoon to the taste of this beautiful funky mix of pussy and ass. I grab the thick globes of her ass, pulling them further apart, and heartily lap up the hole and move my tongue up and down her crack with the ferocity of a dog in heat. I then glide my tongue over her inner thighs, catching the sticky wetness that still shined along the path. Her fingers move to her clit as Auntie frantically rubs in circular motions, resting her face open-mouthed on the back of the chair. It muffles her hoarse cries just a little as sweat beads form on the back of her neck and along the outline of her curly hair. This time the moaning goes on longer as she masturbates. She shouts out against the chair, "Fuck! Fuck! Stick that tongue up my ass!". This order makes me shake and I not only go down on her ass again but I suck on the hole for all I am worth. She now has three piston-like fingers worked into her pussy and with her other hand twists one engorged nipple very hard. A very long, slow grunt emits as she, eyes shut tight, face a deep red, mouth opened but half covered by the leather back of the chair, quivers to a hard orgasm.

I believe this intensely sexual fantasy began somewhere in my later teens but a variety of versions have of course cropped up for many years. But always, I was fearful of making any kind of actual move. As a young man I longed for the old frequent contact with her but over the years it became less often as she moved further away. But when we would see one another Aunt Millie always spoke to me with a particular sparkle in her eye that had me leaking. And for no apparent reason would usually kick off her shoes and put her feet up on anything including empty chairs. I ceased hiding my stares, assured that the in-person visits were few and far between. One time she was wearing very sexy, strappy 5" heels (not common for her at all) and I was a mess - here was one case where I didn't actually mind her leaving the shoes on. She smirked when I would stand up and a truly bulging erection was pointing upward in my jeans.

I also dared to make a number of phone calls to her job at this time. When I was alone in my parents' place, masturbating to anything that reminded me of her, I would call her office phone just to hear her voice. "Hello, ______, this is Millie". The sound of her slightly husky, strong tone right in my ear drove me wild. I never said anything, just pumped my cock vividly and breathed hard. "Who is this? Who IS this??", she would ask, leaving long pauses as she listened to my moans. I came almost immediately, splashing all over my chest, the first time. This was long before the current technology made this kind of thing impossible so I also found myself calling on days when I knew she wasn't in. Another woman would answer--and though I cringe now--at the time I was frothing with sexuality and would ask this woman about Millie then comment on her body, asking the shocked woman if she wanted to suck those tits, lick those soles and tongue that ass. This occurred several times and, seemingly horrified, she couldn't hang up quickly. Instead she offered bits of protest and frozen silences which egged me on more. I quickly went on with multiple sexual fantasies and would tell her about how much I wanted to suck Millie's toes into the back of my throat before she'd slam the receiver down. I knew that Auntie would hear about this from the distraught co-worker and was terribly turned on to think that she'd suspect it was me (but then I was never sure that she didn't have others she teased, possibly engaged in some of this behavior with as well).

Once when the other woman answered and I launched into my desperate string of obscenities, I noticed that she hadn't hung up so I went on about wanting to lick Millie's feet and armpits, suck on those heaving breasts, eat that dripping pussy, spread open that gorgeous ass and put my mouth into it---just as Auntie responded with a booming, "WHO IS THIS??". The other woman had obviously handed her the phone but I was unaware of this at the time, so didn't bother to disguise my voice. I had already stated what I wanted to do to Millie and that my cock was so stiff and hard that it hurt when I stroked it. I was suddenly shocked and felt exposed when I realized that Auntie was actually listening in, so I nervously hung up. I imagined, for years, how she must have felt as she clearly had to have recognized my voice saying all of these deeply nasty things about her. I liked to imagine that she would tell her co-workers she needed to go wash her face, then go into a ladies room stall and finger herself blind.

By the time I'd gotten married and moved out of my parents place, I was 25 and by then Auntie was a steaming 41. She'd gained some middle-aged weight, but most of it was dedicated to her curves. The thighs had thickened too and this made her look all the more attractive to me. My fantasies about her came and went but the sight of a mature BBW with dark curly hair and a devilish grin usually kicked it off again. And then for some reason, we began to develop a newfound communication with phone calls. The wife worked later than I so this left me ample opportunity to undress and stretch out on the bed with a few choice magazines opened to pics that featured curvy barefoot dark-haired women. One of these spreads actually had a BBW model with thick, lustrous curls under her arms! Once positioned in view, I would reach for the phone with an anxious hand. Auntie worked a part-time job, always home early, and her husband worked evenings. Though conversation was light, we seemed to enjoy these calls in a different way. I am sure she'd heard my breathing patterns change as I would put the phone into the crook of my neck to free up my hands. One pinching and twisting my nipples, the other pulling on my cock. After the unplanned obscene call to her some 6 years before, I reveled in the idea that she had to know that was me. I wondered if she might be on her bed too, one hand buried into her sopping crotch. No, we never acknowledged it at the time and after a while the calls grew less frequent too. I was a bit relieved, frankly, as I was so concerned that this fascination with her might affect my marriage.

My interactions with my aunt became rarer as years went on, particularly when she moved across the country to New York. But I still went back to the fantasy and as I got older, my fetish tastes became magnified. Some of the MILFs in my fantasy catalog became GILFS. I was now 46 and Auntie had turned 61. The sparkle in her eye remained on those few occasions we'd see one another and I never hid my scan over her body which always ended with long gazes at her feet. Other than in winter, she always had on open-toed shoes, ranging from flats to sexy heels. The toe nails were usually painted a rather dominant dark red, but sometimes shades of violet, blue or purple which caught my eye immediately. She still tended to kick off the shoes and display her soles for me and the evening always included me standing at an angle in which she alone could see my hard-on as I maneuvered to the bathroom to masturbate about her. I was sure to make frequent visits to my parents' house where she'd stay during her visits back to California.

And then as my parents aged and developed some health concerns, I moved into an empty apartment in the family house to help them out and be close by. No longer married for a variety of reasons, I was living there and dated a few different women, but couldn't experience the intensity I always imagined my aunt could provide, even at a ripe, but tough and vibrant 61. The fantasies about her continued right up until the day my mother told me that Auntie was selling her home and moving back to the west coast with the rest of the family. Her second marriage hadn't worked out and she needed to just get back "home". I felt my stomach tighten when my mother said that until she finds her own place, Aunt Millie would move into my parents' house, ironically moving into my old room---the site of my solo adolescent, teenage and young adult fantasy sessions which largely featured her. Now, in my apartment on the second floor of mom and dad's house, I would be but one floor above this woman I'd lusted after since the age of 11.

I met Auntie at LAX on the day of her arrival. It was a warm sunny day but she looked down, focusing on her sadness over this failed relationship. She told me she'd gotten fat and old and was depressed and felt awful about herself. Looking away from the road, I glanced over at my mature aunt sitting there, staring out of her window, with the seat belt pulled across ample, wide breasts. My eyes quickly moved down to the feet and she saw that she had on loose, strappy flats that exposed the edge of her slightly soiled arch. I felt a familiar warmth come over my groin and a tightness in my abdomen.

"Oh I'm so sorry that things landed the way they did-but we are here for you", I told her. "You know that. And I am right upstairs so if there's anything I can do for you at all, don't hesitate to ask". I knew I was treading on thin ice and wanted to be aware of her earnestly sad state, but was driven by decades of fantasy and her not-always-so-subtle teasing.

"How can you say you look old? Please, that's crazy. You are still a captivating woman...." And I went on, sort of carefully, from there. After we'd gotten home and she'd spent time with my parents, I volunteered to take her out for a drive. "Hey Auntie, you haven't seen LA in early fall in a long time. You can use the fresh air and should enjoy some beauty". With that, she agreed and we met at the car an hour later. It was not quite dusk and she was wearing a silk v-neck tailored sleeveless top. Her breasts stood up and jutted outward and I wondered about her armpits. God, could she be unshaven? Please. She also had on white slacks which she'd obviously grown out of a bit. Though I vehemently denied it when she asked if they made her ass look huge, I knew it was so in the best possible way. The prized globes beneath were gripped by clinging material and I noted the lack of panty line. Man, she must have had on a thong. I envisioned the bountiful white cheeks surrounding the damp strip between. And of course I looked down beyond the pants to see her feet: the shoes were a moderate heel but with very, very thin red straps that exposed most of those enticing feet and toes. I was in heaven.

We drove for a while in the quieter areas around town and then parked to talk. She went on more about how empty she felt and then spilled more, going into how unattractive her husband had made her feel, about the utter lack of intimacy for more than a year prior. She'd found out that Andy was cheating on her and once she confronted him, he moved out of their bedroom and ultimately, out of the house. "I cannot believe I am saying this but I haven't felt a man's touch in a year----but things got bad with him a few years ago. Slowly, the romance just faded. I had opportunities, but like an idiot I didn't go anywhere. Just waited. He refused to go for counseling, so it just...fell apart. I over-ate, gained weight and felt horrible. And alone. I had to just get away. As he settled in with his little slut, I decided to come back here, maybe start over in some way....I don't know".

I found myself telling Auntie that she'd always been the hip, stylish one, always been strong and never needed anyone's approval, etc, and before I knew it my lavish compliments went much too far. She turned to look squarely at me then just asked, "Wow, you still have it for me? After all of these years?" I was silent and felt my chest hammering from within. Auntie persisted: "Huh? Are you still fantasizing about my feet? My tits? My ARMPITS?? I see you even today looking down my blouse, staring at my toes and trying to get a peek under my arms too. Well, go ahead and look!". And with that both arms went up and short patches of dark curly hair stared back at me. My mouth was open but no words could come out. At this point, my fantasy about this moment shifted and all I could imagine was that she was going to abruptly move out and tell my parents what a disgusting perv their son is. But then I saw the sparkle come back into Auntie's eyes and as she smirked at me, she lifted up her right foot and crossed it over her lap. Her foot sat on her knee as she stroked the arch. "Go Ahead, tell me what you want to do to me. Tell me all of the things you used to say when you'd call me up. I know you haven't forgotten, have you?". Her smile widened. "Make me feel good".

I begged to lick her foot, admitting that of course it was me and I never lost my feelings for her. As she demanded, I repeated some of the statements that I'd shared with her and her shocked co-worker. Auntie put her head back and stared deep into my eyes as I spoke. She told me that she masturbated long and hard over those calls, going so far as to, on her days off, calling the other woman to ask if any more of those obscene calls had come in. "I was always disappointed when she'd say No, but when she told me you had called again, I would get off the phone and go to town with my vibrator. Sometimes getting my nut off 5 or 6 times in a row as I laid in bed with my nightgown hiked up to my shoulders". I shuddered with pent up sexuality.

Sitting there in the quiet of a now darkened evening, she ordered me to open up my pants and take my cock out. It was leaking as I did so, pointing skyward in a familiar painful stretch. Her eyes stared at it as the purplish head glistened with pre-cum. "And pull up that tee shirt too. In those calls you said you were pinching and pulling on your nipples. Go ahead, little bitch, play with those nipples for me". Her words alone could have inspired an orgasm, but shortly after I began pinching and rubbing my nipples, my cock quaked and I let out a long hiss as a slight ejaculation occurred.

"Oh, you are such a dirty boy. You made yourself come just from rubbing your nipples. Just like a girl", she added, viciously smiling as she pulled the sandal off of her foot and pointed to the sole. "I haven't washed my feet since my shower yesterday morning. And they got sweaty and dirty, but I know you love a dirty sole, dirty boy. Clean it!". I buried my face into the sole of her foot, rubbing the soiled bottom with my face and pushing my nose into the pad and between her toes. As I was ordered to do so, I lapped up this foot and moaned with each stroke of my tongue. This was my Aunt Millie's foot I was actually licking. It tasted as amazing as I always suspected. I shoved all 5 toes into my mouth and sucked hard, drool sliding down my chin. I looked up at her and Auntie had on the dominant, self-assured look I recalled from my earliest memory. "Don't forget to get the dirt on the heel, too", she added as she angled her thick heel into my face. I cleaned it lovingly. When I was finished she had me sit back as my breathing went into overdrive.

"Now look, as much as this would be fun, you are my nephew. I can't even believe I even Iet you do that but I know how much you always wanted to. Any real sex would be impossible. We cannot do that. DO YOU HEAR ME?", she asked briskly as I stared long into her bright blue eyes. "It doesn't mean we have to pretend all of this sexual tension isn't here. But no fucking. I might enjoy having you masturbate me or letting you watch me fuck myself with a toy.... I would like to have you take care of my needs and when you are good you will get to lick my feet or sweaty armpits. Isn't that what you want?" My eyes were practically rolling.

She unzipped and put my hand inside her pants. "Christ, I'm so fucking horny", she said as she rubbed my fingers against her clit. I went to work on her beautiful pussy with both hands and pushed my face into her breasts, shoving her left arm up so I could get my mouth into her pungent armpit. My tongue grazed over the thicket of underarm hair and she moaned harder and came within moments.

I sat up and licked my own fingers which were drenched in her juice and then she grabbed own of my hands and sucked my fingers too! "Oh man, I needed that so bad" she said, stroking my cheek. Though I'd come a bit before, my balls were still burning. "Please", I begged her, "can I cum?". Auntie smiled evilly and placed her sandal over my cock, the now blue head poking out of the toe strap. "Go ahead, just like you always did". And as I stroked my cock with her shoe, I looked upward at Auntie as her blue eyes sparkled with intensity. "You nasty little slut, you", she said I a harsh whisper. "All of these years and you still want to cum in your aunt's shoe". I felt a gusher begin to boil and she reached for both nipples, giving them a painful tug. That sent me over the edge and I covered the sole of her shoe with hot streams of cum as Auntie forced her pouty lips over mine and dominated my mouth with her tongue.

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