5 Times a Day

**Chapter 57**

“Oh, honey~~”

Aunt Elise’s voice was still thick and hazy with leftover pleasure, the words rolling out of her on a soft, satisfied moan. Her head turned on the pillow so she could look down the length of her own body toward the man whose mouth had just finished working between her thighs.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? You never go down on m—”

The rest of the sentence never arrived.

The expression that crossed her face was pure, unfiltered shock. Her eyes went wide, lips parting soundlessly. For several long heartbeats, she simply stared, as if her brain refused to reconcile the image in front of her with any acceptable reality. The nephew, who should have been in the basement or safely in his own room, was instead between her spread legs, mouth still shiny with her juices, chin and cheeks wet from the orgasm she had poured into his mouth only moments earlier.

I watched the horror land, and then I watched it shift.

It wasn’t simple disgust at finding a family member in a forbidden place. It wasn’t even the moral panic of realizing exactly who had just made her come harder than she had in a long time. Underneath the shock lived something she clearly hated admitting, even to herself: she had not disliked it. The body that had clamped around my tongue and flooded my mouth had done so with complete, hungry cooperation. That knowledge was what truly horrified her.

“Ty—”

She started to speak. I started to listen.

The door handle turned with a soft, metallic click that sounded as loud as a gunshot in the quiet room.

Both of us froze. Aunt Elise reacted first, faster than I would have given her credit for, grabbing the edge of the sheet and yanking it up and over my head in one sharp motion. Suddenly I was sealed in warm, humid darkness: the sheet trapped me against her body, my face still only inches from her pussy, her thick, creamy thighs closing lightly on either side of my head to keep me hidden and silent.

Irregular, heavy footsteps crossed the carpet.

“Ahh, the world is spinning.”

Tom’s voice was thick, slurry, and far too close. A second later, the mattress dipped hard on the far side as he collapsed onto it face-first, the entire bed shifting under his weight.

“Were you drinking?” Aunt Elise asked. The nervous tremor in her voice was impossible to miss; it vibrated through the soft flesh of her thighs where they pressed against my ears.

I barely registered the conversation. My improved night vision let me see perfectly inside the cave of sheets and skin. Heaven was right in front of me: the swollen, glistening folds of her pussy still twitching with aftershocks, the soft inner skin of her thighs warm against my cheeks, and the dense pink haze of pure lust rolling off her in waves thicker and sweeter than anything I had taken earlier. Even after drinking so much of it, the concentration was almost overwhelming. It filled my nose and mouth with every shallow breath.

I couldn’t stop myself.

I extended my tongue and gave her one slow, deliberate lick from the very bottom of her slit all the way up to the still-hypersensitive clit, flattening my tongue so I could feel every soft ridge and fold.

“Hngg!”

The sound was sharp and quickly muffled. Her thighs tightened around my head, not hard enough to truly hurt, just enough to signal panic and demand that I stop. I ignored the signal completely. The taste this time was different: richer, heavier, edged with the forbidden knowledge that her husband was only a few feet away and completely oblivious. My cock, trapped uncomfortably between my stomach and the mattress, throbbed so violently it bordered on actual pain. Every heartbeat made it jerk against the sheets.

“Wh-hic-at’s wro-ng?” Tom mumbled, the words barely intelligible through whatever alcohol still owned him.

“No-nothing.” Aunt Elise’s answer came out tight and breathless.

I licked her again, slower this time, dragging the full width of my tongue through her folds and collecting the fresh wetness that had already begun to gather. She jerked hard and clamped her thighs tighter. The pressure only fed the heat in my gut. My superhuman strength turned the squeeze into something closer to an embrace than a restraint; I could have forced them open if I wanted, but the feeling of her thighs while I continued to taste her was too intoxicating. I kept going, long, wet, thorough strokes that made soft, filthy sounds under the sheet, until Tom’s breathing finally deepened into a loud, uneven snore that rattled out of his chest.

Only then did her thighs relax.

I took the opening immediately and without mercy. Both hands slid under the heavy, soft weight of her ass, tilting her hips upward so I could seal my mouth over her completely. I sucked hard, drawing a fresh rush of her juices straight onto my tongue, then pushed the tip of my tongue inside her tight folds and fucked her with it in short, greedy thrusts. The pink haze poured into me along with the fluid; my lust gauge might have dropped to yellow earlier, but the hunger itself felt bottomless and sharp.

“Ahhnn~~ Huunnmm~~”

Her moans were long, shaky, and deliberately muffled by the hand she had pressed tightly over her own mouth. I didn’t slow down for even a second. I licked, sucked, and tongue-fucked her until the muscles around my tongue started fluttering in the familiar rhythm that meant she was close again. When I felt the climax building, I shifted upward, trapped her swollen clit between my lips, and gave it a firm, rhythmic suck while my tongue flicked the underside.

“AAAHHHNNN!!!~~~”

The cry was mostly trapped against her palm, but the raw volume still made Tom shift and mutter once before the snoring resumed. Aunt Elise no longer seemed to care. Her second orgasm crashed through her in deep, full-body waves; her hips jerked helplessly against my face, and a fresh, heavy flood of fluid filled my mouth. I swallowed every drop, greedy and relentless, tongue still working her through the peak until her body finally went limp and the last tremors faded into weak aftershocks.

Only then did I ease back, lips and chin shiny, lungs pulling in the thick scent of her.

She lay sprawled and boneless across the sheets, chest rising and falling hard under the thin white tank top, thighs still loosely open and trembling. I pushed the sheet off my head, rose onto my knees between her legs, and unbuttoned my jeans with fingers that were not entirely steady. The moment my cock sprang free, thick, darkly flushed, and already leaking a steady bead of pre-cum, her eyes tracked the movement. She had enough strength left to watch, but not yet enough to speak or push me away.

I swung one leg over her torso and straddled her upper chest, knees planted on either side of her ribs. The soft, heavy weight of her breasts, still covered by the damp tank top, pressed against the backs of my thighs. I lowered my hips just enough to rest the full, hot length of my cock across her lips and cheek, the swollen head brushing the corner of her mouth and leaving a shiny smear. Then I stopped completely.

The choice was entirely hers.

If she turned her head away or told me to get off, I would leave and deal with whatever consequences came in the morning, her silence, her anger, or the entire family finding out. What happened next depended only on whether those soft lips opened for me.

We stared at each other in the dark. Her breathing was still ragged from the two intense orgasms. My cock twitched visibly against her face, another clear drop of pre-cum welling at the tip and rolling down to her lower lip.

After a long, charged moment, her mouth opened.

That was all the answer I needed.

I pushed forward carefully, feeding the thick head between her lips and then another inch, then another, until nearly half my cock rested heavily on her tongue. She closed her mouth around me without being told. The wet heat, the soft but firm pressure, and the immediate, practiced suction dragged a raw, broken sound out of my throat.

“Ahh~~”

She was on a completely different level from anyone else I had been with. There was no awkwardness, no tentative first-time exploration. Her tongue worked the sensitive underside in perfect rhythm with the strong suction of her cheeks; the seal of her lips stayed tight and wet even when she took a little more of me. Every movement was controlled, efficient, and devastatingly effective. The way she hollowed her cheeks and curled her tongue at the same time made my thighs tense. In less than a minute, the pressure gathering at the base of my spine became impossible to hold back.

I came hard, flooding her mouth in thick, heavy pulses while I kept my eyes locked on hers. She swallowed without spilling a drop, tongue working steadily around me, and when the last spurt left me, I saw the unmistakable flicker of pride and quiet amusement in her expression. She had made the supposedly experienced nephew finish almost immediately, and she knew exactly how embarrassing that was for me.

The small, satisfied smirk that followed only made the heat in my face burn hotter.

I didn’t pull out.

Instead, I pushed deeper, sliding another two thick inches across her tongue until the head brushed the soft entrance of her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise for half a second, then narrowed with renewed, almost playful confidence. The smirk returned, clearer and sharper this time.

“It’s not over yet,” I whispered, voice rough.

She answered by tightening her lips around the shaft and giving the underside of my cock a slow, deliberate, filthy lick. The message in her eyes was unmistakable.

*Bring it on.*

I began to move, short, careful thrusts that fucked her mouth without forcing more than she could comfortably take. She met every stroke with perfect suction and an experienced curl of her tongue, never breaking eye contact, never looking away from the nephew who was using her mouth while her husband snored three feet away. The oversensitivity from the first orgasm made every wet, sliding inch feel electric and almost too intense. I already knew how this quiet contest of endurance was going to end.

I was going to lose.

And I was going to enjoy every single second of losing to her.