Without looking away from it, she spoke.
“You’re not finished yet. With as much cum as you just shot, there’s bound to be more trapped in those balls.”
She gave them a light slap on the side. I twitched a little, but the pain was almost pleasing. If she wanted to keep making me cum like that, I was all for it.
I sighed.
“Auntie.”
She smiled.
“Yes baby, Auntie Freya is here, and she’s gonna keep making you cum until you’re empty.”
She was silent for a minute. It was a comfortable silence, only broken by the wet sounds of her hands still kneading my genitals.
“Maybe I don’t mind it so much when your eyes are undressing me. Maybe I just played it up.”
I was puzzled.
“Huh? Why?”
Her nails dragged down my stomach, not breaking skin but certainly not painless either.
“Because I’ve been masturbating to you too. I just don’t have the gall to stare at your crotch all day, do I?”
It made sense to me now. She wasn’t mad at me for eyeing her up all the time. She was mad at herself for enjoying it. I still don’t think she ever felt shame to the depth I did, but I know it was in there somewhere, and when she had finally had enough, she tried to get me to solve the problem by draining my balls on my own.
When I came back down the stairs after cumming, the wine went to her head and she just gave into her own perverted thoughts anyway. They must have been building as she imagined me touching myself.
Inwardly, I wondered what would happen if my mother knew what my aunt had just done to me. She had trusted Freya to keep me safe, despite whatever differences they had, but I didn’t doubt that mom might fly into a rage like I had never seen if she were to walk in on us right now. If she were to walk in and see… see my aunt still engaging in a filthy taboo with her son…
The idea was actually exciting me. My cock was starting to stiffen again, and my aunt was resuming the milking motions, coaxing me back into arousal. I could really get used to the feeling of my aunt’s hands all over me.