Don't fall asleep, aunt, I'm in the mood

Some say we are attracted to people who share our tastes or character, but others think it is inevitable that our attention will be drawn to people who are radically different from us. What happened to me was a mixture of both: I found someone from a very different world than mine with whom I had too much in common to pass up.

The only thing I had in common with my mother, beyond the bond that had been created since she gave birth to me. I loved him as much as a child can love, but that didn't stop me from realizing that we would never really get along, maybe because I was so sure that I wasn't his favorite.

In principle, all mothers love their children equally, which does not mean that they do not have a favorite. The problem is that mine never really tried to hide the fact that Ismael, my older brother, was her greatest pride simply by his existence, because it could not be said that he had done anything to deserve it.

Maybe I was always a little more mischievous, but when it came to grades and respect for her and my father, Ismael and I were equal. Still, when in doubt, I defended him even without knowing what had happened. Obviously, for a child who was not easy to handle, I did not understand what I had done wrong.

Fortunately, as the years went by, I realized that Ismael was not responsible for anything, he was a good older brother. There was a lot of trust between us and we ended up taking the matter lightly, after all it was not that my mother treated me badly, she simply had a predilection for him.

Most of these jokes were about how upset our mother would be if the day came when Ismael had to leave home, believing that it wouldn't happen, at least not anytime soon. But when my brother finished his studies and received a lucrative job offer from abroad, the pillars of our family began to shake.

- Martiño, I have to tell you something.

- Did Mom tell you that you were the only heir?

- No, it's serious.

- What's going on?

- They offered me a job.

- Damn, Ismael, you scared me.

- If I accept, I will have to go to Belgium.

- As if mom would leave you...

- This decision is mine alone.

- Do you think you'll accept?

- It's a lot of money.

- You just finished your studies, maybe they will offer you something good here.

- But I think it's a good opportunity to grow.

- You can't leave me here alone with them.

- Maybe this is your moment to prove that you deserve to be the favorite.

- This wouldn't happen even if I saved Mom's life.

- I haven't made a decision yet, but you'll have to get used to it.

If the news had been bad for me, I couldn't even imagine how my mother would have felt about her favorite son finally becoming a man and leaving home for good. I was glad that Ishmael had received a good job offer, I was proud of him, but I was convinced that it would be detrimental to me.

I had two options in mind: either our mother would take me out of the house so I wouldn't be the one to wander too far away, or she would try to devote all the attention she had left to me. Both options made my hair stand on end, because I didn't want her to be hostile, but I also didn't want her to become obsessed with taking care of me and for that to reduce my precious freedom.

It didn't take long to know if she had chosen one of these options, because Ismael finally accepted the offer and there came a time when he could not delay any longer in telling the truth. I remember my mother's face as if it were today, the feeling that her spirit was leaving the body she inhabited.

From that moment on, everything happened very quickly. In less than a week, my brother had already left for Belgium, leaving our mother devastated and her bedroom transformed into a kind of altar to pay homage to him, which gave off a very bad feeling. Instead of going to work, it was as if we had lost him forever.

I waited to see how her absence would affect me, like someone expecting to receive a slap at any moment, but absolutely nothing happened. My mother was so depressed that she did not have the strength to take care of her youngest son, that is, me, neither for good nor for bad. She treated me with total indifference.

- I could go out on Saturday night.

- Alright.

- I guess I'll be late, but don't worry.

- Try not to drink too much, Ismael.

- Mom, my name is Martiño.

- Sorry, it's customary.

-And don't worry, I hardly drink.

- That's better, they'll probably hire you too and I'll be left alone.

- You are not alone and you never will be.

- Well, that's what I feel.

- In a few months you will have it here again for Christmas.

- We'll see if I can do it, because in this nervous state...

Throughout my life I had gotten into the habit of not worrying too much about my mother, just as she didn't worry too much about me, but at that moment it was hard not to feel anxious. However, I decided to believe that this bitterness wouldn't last forever and continued to focus on what was taking up most of my time at the moment.

I wasn't born with the gift of seduction, but I managed to achieve it from time to time. Although my pending task was still to be with someone I really loved, one of those people who drive you crazy and only think about taking you to bed, I was content with my occasional fucks, because many of my friends couldn't even do it with him.

The first few weeks after Ismael left, I took advantage of my mother's condition to go out more often without having to give explanations. Although she was not as interested in me as she was in my brother, it was not usual for her to let me do what I wanted. In any case, I could not waste this opportunity.

Until that little bit of money becomes a nuisance. My mother looked worse and worse, as if my brother had gone to war instead of having a comfortable, well-paying job. No matter how many times they talked on the phone and he promised her he was fine, all she could think about was Christmas as soon as possible so she could bring him home.

As a good son, I did everything I could to make sure the wait didn't become eternal. Sometimes I felt like I was triumphing, that my mother was rejoicing, even though she was counting the days until the expected return. I was not at all prepared for what would happen in the following days.

- Isma, send me money for Mom's gift.

- Ok honey, have you thought about what you're going to buy for him?

- Not much, but it doesn't matter, because he'll only care about your presence.

- That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Martiño.

- What's going on?

- I won't be able to come back.

- Are you kidding.

- I would like to, but they make me work on holidays.

- You know this mom won't recover, right?

- I don't think it's that bad.

- It's obvious that you're not here, you have no idea how serious the situation is.

- I'll try to come back one weekend, you'll try to entertain her.

- As if he were a child who could be calmed with a toy.

- Maybe not with this, but if you give him a good Christmas present...

- We have never managed to achieve this and this year will be no exception.

- Ask your aunt for help, she knows her well and always succeeds with her.

- I barely trust him, I'm not going to call him.

- It's not about you, it's about helping mom.

- I'll try, but this woman is always very busy.

Aunt Agatha was the equivalent of Ishmael from the previous generation. She was a beautiful, charismatic woman who always had good jobs and successful boyfriends, but the closest thing to her was being my mother's protégé. From a young age, she forced us to have an almost reverential respect for her. Sometimes I even thought that she loved him more than me.

This special relationship my mother had with her sister was probably due to the fact that she was ten years older than her. She had always been forced to take care of her, at first like a doll, but over the years almost as if she were her own daughter. Fortunately, Ismael never treated me in that way that seemed almost sinister to me.

Between the respect my mother forced me to have for Aunt Agatha and the fact that I always found her very beautiful, at least for an older person, I never had a very close relationship with her. We saw each other at family gatherings and we got along well, but not enough to dare to call him and ask him for a favor.

I had almost completely abandoned the idea, until my brother had no choice but to publicly declare that he would not return. My mother fell into a depression that shocked me because I knew that she would never behave like that with me. Although I knew that no gift would get her out of this state, I turned to my aunt in desperation.

- Martino? I think this is the first time I've received a call from you.

- I'm very desperate, aunt.

- What's the problem?

- My mom fell into depression because Ismael is not coming back for Christmas.

- Yes, I know it makes you very sad.

- It's more than that, he can't lift his head.

-And do you think I can help in any way?

- Honestly… no, but my brother thinks so.

- Tell me, I'm ready for anything.

- Could you help me choose the gift, something special for her?

- I have several ideas in mind for this year, actually.

- If you don't mind, I'll buy him whatever he's most excited about on behalf of Isma.

- No problem, anything to cheer him up.

- Now tell me what it is.

- About a doll she always wanted to have when she was a child, but no one ever bought her one.

- Are you sure it will work?

- Of course, believe me.

- Ok, where can I find it?

- This is the most complicated part, it is in an antique shop quite far away.

- Don't worry, I already have a license and I'm sure my father will let me use the car.

- It would be even better if I came with you.

- If you think it is necessary...

- I know the seller, if I don't go there, he will rip you off.

- Then come, for me, better.

It was strange to meet my aunt, even for this reason, but if she could help me save a few Euros, I obviously wasn't going to refuse. My brother, despite his more than substantial salary, agreed to let me do my best to save every last cent. My mother had better start liking me, which was difficult, as I didn't know what I was going to do for her.

I had saved up most of the money I received for birthdays and Christmas for years, in fact I had paid for my driver's license by working in the summer, but that wasn't what worried me the most. I didn't see the point of having to spend a lot of time with my aunt, even if the phone conversation with her had been quite pleasant.

We met on a Friday afternoon, just two weeks before Christmas. We wanted to have time to react, in case we couldn't buy the doll, but our obligations didn't leave us much time. I went to pick her up at her house by car and I was surprised to see her so pretty, even more so than usual.

That was the first thing I said to her when she got into the car and sat in the passenger seat. I immediately regretted it, because we never had that kind of trust and it wasn't the most appropriate thing to say to an aunt. From that moment on, I stayed as quiet as possible and only spoke when she gave me directions. Especially almost an hour later, when we were about to arrive.

- Martiño, come in and ask him the price.

- Aren't you coming with me?

- I'll be next.

- Because?

- I want to see if he asks me for less money than you.

- I don't understand, but it's okay.

I did what my aunt asked me to do. I went into the shop and asked the salesman how much the doll cost. After making me dizzy with his explanations about it being a unique collector's item, he asked for an amount that was completely out of my reach. If Agata didn't remedy this, I would have to think of another way to please my mother.

Then she came in, smiled at the salesman, and suddenly an atmosphere that was hard to explain was created. I watched in amazement as my Aunt Agatha gave her a master class in negotiation and seduction. Within seconds she managed to get her hands on the doll for less than half the price she had asked. Her help had been a complete success.

- How did you do it?

- Honey, you men are too easy.

- Well, thanks to that you saved me a lot of money.

- But it's your brother's gift, right?

- I'll give it to you in your name, but I'll pay you half.

- Why is that?

- If this really inspires you, I want to be a part of it.

- You should be the favorite child.

- I think so too, but I'm not complaining, so I can do things at my own pace.

- What does this mean?

- While she suffers for Isma, I come and go without giving explanations.

- With a girl?

-Nothing in particular, I adapt to what comes up.

- Well, you're one of mine.

- You've had boyfriends.

- That was before, now I only look for men when I want.

- You're fine, less complications.

Her intervention in the store was fundamental for us to start telling each other our stories and realizing that we were much more alike than we thought. I never imagined that I would talk about sex with my aunt Ágata and even less that she would dare to give me so many details of her private life.

The trip would have been infinitely shorter than the outward journey, if it hadn't started snowing and I had to put all my senses into the road. I hadn't been driving for a long time, so this situation was new to me. I could be satisfied if I returned the car to the parking lot safe and sound.

My aunt noticed that I was starting to get nervous and offered to drive myself, but my little man's pride prevented me from admitting that I had serious doubts about my accident. Although I went to her house with the intention of dropping her off and going home, Agatha was not happy that I was letting her go alone.

- Come to my house until it stops snowing.

- It's already nine o'clock, aunt, I want to have dinner.

- Do you think I'm not going to give you anything to eat?

- Maybe instead of stopping the snow harder.

- What's the problem? You just sleep here and that's all.

- That would be weird.

- Do you find it strange that someone would sleep at their aunt's house?

- I've never done it before.

- Because it hadn't happened.

- Come on, get on, it doesn't look like it's going to stop.

I was eager to get out of the car and not tempt fate on that icy road again, so I obeyed my aunt and followed her home. Once there, she made herself comfortable and put on a tracksuit that showed off her buttocks. After the conversation we had just had, this sight was doubly exciting.

The snow continued to fall, and it even became heavier and heavier. She herself insisted on bringing up the most intimate subjects over dinner, revealing to me details that she didn't think anyone should know about a family member. If all this had really happened, my aunt was a real wolf.

When there was no longer any doubt that I was going to have to spend the night there, Agatha brought out blankets so I could sleep on the couch and sat down next to me to pick up the conversation where we had left off. I was surprised that she wanted to talk so much about it, it was as if she needed to vent to someone, to bring out her true nature.

- Has it been a long time since you lost your virginity?

- A little over a year.

- And since then, how often have you had sex?

- I hope once a month.

- It's very little, Martiño.

- Men are easy as you say, but women are not.

- Yes, you are right about that.

- How many times do you do it?

- I feel the need at least twice a week.

-And do you always have someone available?

- Do you doubt it?

- No, not really.

- Do like me, approach a girl and tell her you're in the mood.

-Ninety-nine out of a hundred will reject me.

- You're missing out on great sex if you don't try it anyway.

- Should I tell someone?

- Of course, the one you least expect can say yes.

- Are you sure?

- Believe me... the one you least expect.

It was only much later, when I found myself alone in the darkness of her living room, that I realized that perhaps her words were trying to tell me something. Was my aunt talking about herself? It was hard to believe, because, according to her own logic, if she had wanted to do something crazy with me, she would not have waited for me to jump in.

The normal thing to do was to come to this conclusion and stop thinking about it, but it seemed impossible. Even though she was sexy, I never imagined myself doing something forbidden with my aunt, however, her words had excited me a lot and her statuesque body was the closest thing to me. Something was not working well in my head to make me consider something like that.

Without even making a decision, I got up from the couch and walked very slowly to my aunt's room, as if standing in front of her would help me make a decision. I was surprised to see that the door was open, almost as if she had been waiting for me. I entered there silently, still not knowing exactly what I was doing there.

- It's about time, Martiño.

- Were you waiting for me?

- Yes, although I wasn't entirely sure you understood my insinuations.

- Because...?

- No more questions, just say the correct words.

- I don't think I understand you.

- Well think about it, you're going to have a great time doing it.

- Don't fall asleep, aunt, I'm in a hurry.

- I couldn't have said it better myself.

I approached the bed with trepidation and slid under the duvet. My aunt greeted me straight to the point, slipping her hand under the pants she had lent me, supposedly for sleeping. She must not have been at all surprised that I was already hard, because she immediately began pumping very subtly, as if to measure the power of the weapon she was wielding.

I was hoping this was just the beginning, that she would then strip and let me have her, but she continued to masturbate me, faster and faster. Even though my body was begging me to take it to the next level, I couldn't ignore my aunt's skillful and warm hand on such a cold night. I didn't dare, I just dared to do a little research on my own.

As Aunt Agatha continued to masturbate me, I dared to slip my hand under her pajama top. She didn't object, so I was free to move around to find one of her breasts. They may not have been too big, but they were just as firm and round as I had imagined them to be all afternoon. This immediately put me on the edge of something very pleasant.

I had fun filling my hand with her small breast, placing my thumb on the nipple and tracing imaginary circles. The movements of her wrist were getting faster and faster, I was going to cum soon without knowing what was waiting for me next. When I was more excited, my aunt put down the handjob and started rubbing the palm of her hand all over my cock, including the balls.

This unexpected move was the straw that broke the camel's back. Then she masturbated me again and I came instantly like never before. Countless jets of semen shot out from under the duvet, all onto my aunt's huge body. It was hard to believe that it wasn't a dream, one of those where you try to go back to sleep just to do it again.

- Good evening, Martin.

- Nothing of the sort, let me return the favor.

- But I don't want to.

- Then why did you provoke me?

- To know if I can count on you when I have them.

- You see, yes.

- Well, don't doubt that I'll soon come to fuck you.

It continues...