VILE HUNGER: CHAPTER 11

MORALLY BANKRUPT

Martin woke with a start.
“Shhh,” a soft voice said. “It’s alright.
A cool hand press against his forehead.
He blinked several times, as if in a trance.
When he could focus again, he saw his Aunt Rosie staring down at him.
She smiled, and Martin couldn’t help but notice how kind her smile still was.
“No fever,” she said drawing her hand back. “Do you feel better?”
He nodded slowly.
She had pulled a chair up next to his bed, and now leaned back.
His eyes were immediately drawn to her chest.
Rosie’s work shirt was a little too small for her, and the fabric stretched tight across her chest, showing the outline of her big breasts.
Rosie frowned, and folded her arms across her chest.
Whether, she did this consciously or subconsciously he wasn’t sure, but either way he still felt guilty for looking.
She’s like a mother to me, his own words coming back to haunt him.
“It looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” Rosie said, the smile returning to her face.
“Summer is staying at her dad’s this weekend. Joe’s working a double shift, because one of his deputies called in sick. And, Emily is still grounded.”
Now his Aunt leaned forward, and whispered, “Are you two seeing each other?”
“We’re just friends,” Martin said, his face flushing red.
“Uh huh,” she said, but her smile remained mischievous. “Well I’m glad. Emily can be…”
Rosie paused searching for the right word, and then said, “passionate.”
“And, I think,” she continued, “she needs a friend as much as you do.
Rosie stood, smoothing out of the hem of her dress.
“Well, if you’re feeling up to it,” she said now. “How about we order a pizza, and then you can pick out a movie for us to watch.”
He nodded.
She frowned.
“Not one of your horror movies, though, okay,” she added.
He nodded again.
“Good,” she said, the smile returning to her face. “Well I’ll be downstairs in a little bit. I want to change out of my work clothes, and take a quick shower, okay.”
She disappeared out of the door, only to pop her head back into his room, a few seconds later.
“We are going to have so much fun tonight,” she said. “I can feel it.”
She disappeared again, leaving him alone.
Martin stirred, and almost immediately the pain hit him—a terrible throbbing pain that could not be ignored.
He winced, and pulled the blanket away.
His cock had ripped through the front of his sweatpants, and now hung hard and heavy against his chest.
He grabbed at the throbbing, obscene thing—wincing at the pain that reminding him of his unsatisfied lust.
He felt hot, and the heat burned from the inside out, yet his skin felt strangely cold.
He had an urge to strip away his clothes, and it was an urge he swiftly acted on.
Now, he rose, standing naked in the moonlight.
His sharp ears picking up the sound of water running.
The scent of honey filled his nose.
His long tongue dragged across lips—hungry again.

* * *
“Martin! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rosie screamed.
She had grabbed the shower curtain, and attempted to cover herself.
“This is very inappropriate!”
Had he been in his right mind, Martin may have noticed that the shower and tub seemed absurdly large. So large, in fact, that she seemed almost comically tiny as she huddled against the back wall with the curtain still covering her naked body. But his only thoughts were of the want of her, and the pleasure she would give him.
Still he lingered, letting the hot water wash over him.  
Crudely,  he grabbed his cock, and then held it out to her: showing the woman all he had to offer.  
Her eyes suddenly went wide, while at the same time her face flushed red.
Martin swelled with pride, as her eyes lingered on his crotch.
He let his hand drop, letting her take him all in. Then he started forward.
The trance broke as he narrowed the gap between them.
“Don’t touch me!” She cried.
He ignored her, and lightly touched her brow.
“Slut,” he said, as he stroked her hair.
The curtain dropped away from her naked body.
Open mouth surprised, turned into hungry lust.
Her wide eyes narrowed to tiny slits, giving her a dreamy expression.
Boldly, she grabbed hold of him, and began to lightly stroke him off.
“If I’d know there was cock like this in the house, I would have fucked you every chance I got,” she said, her breath burning hot and heavy.
She let him go, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her naked body close to his.
“It was you,” she said, in a throaty whisper. “The other night. Fucking my brains out, driving me wild, making me cum over and over again.”
Before he could answer, she pulled his head down, and once they were eye level, she shoved her tongue deep in his mouth.
She tasted sweet. He drank that sweetness in, to the point that when he finally pulled way, it left her breathless.
He crudely squeezed one of her mountainous breasts.
She gasped at the sensation, and then ran her tongue across her lips.
She had a great body, despite being a woman in her forties.
He let go of her breast, and now ran his hands over the curve of her heart shaped hips.
Just like his mother, he thought, and the thought caused his cock to throb in excitement.
He pushed her against the wall.
Her red hair, which she usually wore in a bun, now spilled out over her shoulders.
His long tongue darted out of his mouth, and whipped across her nipples, making her whimper.
He continued down the flat belly, until he knelt before her.
He drooled, as he felt the delicious heat between her legs.
She gasped again, as he buried his nose in the patch for red hair that pointed down to the most intimate part of her—most intimate and most forbidden.
Now, he violated her.
His tongue lashing out.
She cried out, her voice jittery.
Her body trembling.
His tongue spread over her clit, lavishing attention on it.
She tasted sweet, like honey.
Hungry for more, he probed the folds of her pussy lips, seeking a way inside.
Then he found it, entry just at the tip of his tongue.
She screamed as he plunged in.
She tasted different on the inside: a tartness mixed with the salt of sweat. Nevertheless, her pussy felt warm and inviting, and gushed at the attention.
As before he drank her in.
As before, it left her panting for more.
And more he gave, his long, dog-like tongue, worming its way in deep—touching her in places she had never been touched before.
She screamed again, and his mouth filled with her hot cum.
It tasted sweet—like honey.
He pulled free, licking her cum off his lips.
He looked at her now.
Her legs shook.
Her breath, drew short and heavy.
But her expression had twisted into pure bliss.
“No one’s ever done that to me before,” she said, with a heavy sigh.
Her eyes opened, and the smile faded.
“Fuck me,” she said, her voice low and guttural now.
Martin was momentarily taken aback. He had never heard his aunt curse before, and the words seemed strange coming out of her mouth.
“FUCK ME!” She screamed.
His cock painfully twitching at the command.
Rather than stand, he simply pulled her down to his level.
Passively, she lay on the vast shower floor. He soon got on top of her; and he could feel her legs still shaking, as she wrapped them around his hips.
What he did now, he did without shame. She was, after all, a woman first, his aunt second.
And he needed a woman now more than anything.
Crudely, he thrust, pushing inside of her.
“Jesus!” She screamed.
She looked up at him in surprise.
“You, you made me cum,” she cried.
Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits, again, and her mouth curled into a snarl.
“Do it again,” she growled.
Growing inpatient, she bucked her body against his, trying to get herself off.
Now it was his turn to gasp.
She felt so tight.
Underneath him, she squirmed, as her movements became more frantic.
He could tell by the slight hitch in her breath that she was going to cum again.
She proved him right, a few second later.
This spurred him on, and he now vigorously pumped into her.
He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, but he was determined to enjoy every minute of it.
He took her rough and hard.
She whimpered underneath him.
His pace quickened.
A hand snaked around the back of his head, pulling him down. And yet, at the same time her other hand tried to push him away.
He needed to cum. He could feel it building—his lust at the tipping point.
She could sense it too, and began to thrust her hips against him, again.
Hot water rained down on them, in a vain attempt to wash away their sins.
But they fucked down and dirty—like animals.
His movements became frantic. His hips shook. His thoughts because singular, and one word repeated over and over in his mind: Release.
She had already cum several times, so many he had lost count. He hated her for her easy pleasure. She could lie there and get herself off, while he had to work for it.
Her thrusts also became frantic, matching his. Wanting his seed, as much as he wanted to give it to her.
He felt so close, and yet he didn’t cum.
Instead, both of them gasped.
But not out of lust. Their pleasure had come to an end.
Now, she actually tried to push him away, while at the same time twisted her body in an attempt to pull free.
She gave up the struggle, a few seconds later, realizing it the futility of it.
“Take it out,” she pleaded. “It hurts. Oh god, It hurts so much.”
His heart went out to her, but he wasn’t sure he could take it out— at least not without hurting her even further.
“Oh god,” she cried, tears filling her eyes, “I can feel it pressing against my womb.”
He touched her crotch.
“Relax,” he whispered.
Her body relaxed, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips.
The relief proved to be temporary. And, a few seconds later, she looked up at him again, her eyes pleading.
“It’s still growing,” she whimpered.
With his hand still on her crotch, he now said, “Open.”
She jumped, slamming hard against him.
At the same time, something inside of her tightly squeezed the bulbous head of his cock, sending a chill up his spine.
The squeezing sensation proved to be mercifully brief, around the head at least, as the squeezing sensation continued down the shaft.
She shook from head to toe, underneath him. Her mouth hung open, which gave her a permanent look of surprise.
“How are you doing this?” She cried, her lips quivering. “You’re in my womb, and oh god it’s still growing...”
Her words trailed off, having lost her voice.
He wasn’t fairing much better. He needed to cum, needed to cum badly, because if he held it much longer, he would burst.
Had enough?
A voice, at the back of his mind, asked him. It sounded like King.
“Yes,” Martin screamed in answer.
He grabbed the pendant around the his neck.
“I’ll keep it! I’ll keep it! I swear!” Martin screamed now. “Please, just let me cum!”
As soon as the words left his mouth… he came.
It felt like a punch in the gut, as it his seed flooded out of him.
Rosie’s body tensed, as the first tidal wave hit her, causing her eyes to roll back in her head.
It quickly filled her up, and the rush pushed his cock out of her womb, and down her vaginal canal. He continued to cum, soon filling her canal as well, while at the same time, pushed him further back, until he finally popped out of her like a cork.
An ocean of seamen poured out between Rosie’s legs— pooling on the shower floor, underneath her.
He wasn’t done yet, though, as another burst shot out of him, splashing all over her breasts.
This proved to be the last gasp, and he fell back against the wall panting like a dog.
How long he sat there, Martin couldn’t say.
But the shower water had gone from hot to cold, and the cold water now rejuvenated him.
He looked down.
His cock, now flaccid, lay slightly curled around his leg, like a snake—satisfied for now, but always hungry.
His eyes drift over to his Aunt Rosie.
She lay still on the shower floor, her eyes closed, and her mouth open in what appeared to be a scream.
Martin briefly wondered if he had killed her. After what happened he couldn’t be sure of anything.
But, the cold water soon revived her as well. Coughing, a little as she spat out the water that had collected in her mouth.
She sat up, blinking several times, as if trying to wake up.
She turned her head slightly, and saw Martin. She flashed a shy smile, her face going red as she blushed. Then, she turned her head away from him.
No words were spoken between them, although she seemed to be waiting for him to either say or do something.
He didn’t move, and said nothing. Choosing, instead to let the awkwardness hang in the air between them.
They were only inches apart, and yet the distance felt like miles. Things would never be the same between them. He could never see her as a mother figure again, that was for sure, and he felt a twinge of guilt about that.
She sighed, and then fell into his arms. She pressed her body close to his, and then resting her head against his chest. Her rest proved to be a short one, as she quickly pulled back—a confused look on her face.
“You’re so cold,” she said.
“It’s the water, he lied. He knew what it was, unconsciously touching the pendant around his neck.
His answer satisfied her, but she did not return to his side.
Instead, warm fingers gently stroked his cock.
“I can warm you up,” she whispered, tucking a few strands of wet hair behind her ear in a flirty gesture.
She lowered her mouth.
He grunted, feeling her warm lips close around the shaft.
Whatever awkwardness they shared faded in a heartbeat, as she slowly bobbed her head up and down.
She moaned softly, continuing to pleasure him with her mouth.
Good as it felt, Martin found himself distracted by seeing her bare ass jiggle with each bob.
The motion excited him. And now, he reached over, then dipped his fingers in-between the folds of  her pussy, slowly making his way down to the button of her clit.
She pulled away, and looked at him in surprise. Surprise soon turned into a mischievous grin, and she quickly lowered her head again.
Warm lips slithered down his shaft, even as his cold fingers wormed their way up and down her slit.
She soon pulled away, lovingly kissing the tip
There were both aroused again: him rock hard, and she dripping wet.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” she suggested. “It will be more intimate there.”
He nodded his consent.
She reached back, and turned off the water.
Then she grabbed him by the shaft, pulling him up, as she stood.
She let him go, and hopped out of the tub.
Martin followed, getting even harder as she bent over slightly to dry herself with a towel.
“See something you like? She asked, catching him looking.
She laughed, playfully pushing him back, and then dashed out of the bathroom.
He caught up with her in the hallway.
“My room or yours,” she asked, as she bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet.
He had a better idea, and swiftly narrowed the gap between them.
They were inches apart again, and her chest heaved being so close to him.
She shivered again.
“You still so cold,” she said. A worried look souring her beautiful face.
She reached up, and touched his forehead in a very motherly gesture.
He grabbed her hand, and pulled it away.
“Turn around,” he growled, squeezing her wrist.
She gasped, her breath shaky, and then licked her lips.
He let her go, and she spun on her heels, as smooth as a ballerina.
She followed up, by bending over and pressing both hands against the wall.
“Like this?” She asked innocently.
He had her just where he wanted her.
She was wet, so wet that he easily slid into her.
She gasped.
Her body jumping slightly as he pushed himself deep.
His movements were savage.
She felt tight, but he liked the tightness of her now, and liked the way the pussy lips stretched thin to hold him.
He grunted, grabbing her hips.
His pace quickened.
She didn’t scream, or cry out, which he found slightly disappointing.
She turned her head, revealing an open mouthed look of surprise.
He smirked with pride.
He pulled her back, and now pumped into her in rapid bursts, and soon brought himself to the point of release.
But, remembering what had happened in the shower, he quickly pulled out of her.
To his great joy and relief, he came: painting her back with a coat of his seed.
She stood, and took a deep breath.
Her legs, however, shook, and a few seconds later she fell back into his arms.
He held her, enjoying her warmth.
“You’re incredible,” she panted.
She swallowed hard, and then turned to face him.
Her lips sought his, as she took his breath away.
He sighed as she pulled away.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she whispered.
She took his hand into hers, and led him into her bedroom.

In the sanctuary of her bedroom, she fell on her knees before him—lovingly worshiping his cock with her tongue.
The reverence ended with a kiss, as her lips pulled away from the tip.
A new offering was soon at hand, as she wrapped her ample breasts around the shaft, squeezing them tight.
His cock throbbed, in-between her cleavage, and wet with spit, he easily navigated the sinful valley.
He grunted his approval.
She smiled at the pleasure she gave him.
He wanted her, and she sensed his want.
Her breasts fell away, and she stood.
Her hand reached out, fingers stroking his hard cock—a look of pure lust on her face.
He could make her do anything he wanted, but he’d seen enough of her slutty side.
What he wanted now was to defile her innocence.
“Get on the bed,” he growled.
Her face lit up with pure joy, making her look ten years younger.
She sat on the bed, and spread her legs—she was wet, so wet.
He grabbed her by the ankle.
She held her breath at his touch.
“Rosie,” he said. “Virgin.”
She cried out, and fell back on the bed. Her back arched, sending her hips straight up in the air.
Seconds later, she sat up, and his heart nearly stopped.
Gone were the wrinkles and the trapping of age, and now she sat as a girl in the flower of her youth.
Martin had never seen a more beautiful girl in all his life.
She looked so young and innocent.
Her eyes, drifted down to his crotch.
“I’m not sure it’s going to fit,” she said, nervously.
“It’ll fit,” he said, jumping onto the bed, and then climbing on top of her.
But, she had been right, he was too big.
He cried out in frustration.
She touched his cheek, in a very motherly gesture.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “We don’t have to do it.”
He touched her crotch.
“Stretch,” he said.
She gasped.
Her body tensed.
He pulled her closer.
The scent of iron filled the air, signaling the end of her innocence.
Her sacrifice had not been in vain.
Her beauty, for the moment, taming his more wild impulses.
She had been right, it was more intimate in the bedroom.
He held back, trying to preserve this moment for as long as he could, hoping it would last forever.
He loved this girl. This girl who was his aunt.
But she felt tight, so tight, and it wouldn’t be much longer now.
Rosie squirmed underneath him, and it felt so good.
She cried out, as his seed filled her.
Spent, he rolled onto the mattress next to her.
Panting, she touched his cheek. He turned to face her.
Her kiss felt awkward and clumsy, and she hit his nose, before finally finding his lips.
The kiss was a chaste one, and she quickly pulled away, laughing as she pushed him back.
Satiated for the moment, he lay back.
“God, no wonder my sister likes doing this so much,” Rosie said, turning on her side to look at him.
“But is a boy’s…”
She paused, as her face flushed red, before she continued, “Is a boy’s stuff always so cold?”
“Only when the girl he’s with is so hot,” Martin answered.
“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Giggling, she lay on her back again.
They were both silent for a moment, but Martin could feel a tension building in the air.
“Do you feel guilty?” She asked.
“No,” Martin scoffed.
“I do,” she said. “A little. I mean you are my sister’s boyfriend.”
Martin sat up, and looked at her confused.
“Who do you think I am?” He asked.
“Martin,” she answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Then still seeing his confession, she added, “Martin Adamson, the class president.”
He nodded slowly.
“Did making love to me, make you forget?” She asked.
He nodded, and laid back down.
She smiled, but it quickly faded.
“I’m supposed to be the good girl,” Rosie said. “Jackie, she’s the bad one.”
She sighed.
“Of course, most of the boys at school are my sister’s boyfriend. So, I guess no matter who I picked it still would have been cheating.”
She turned to face him again, and laid a hand on his bare chest. A hand which she quickly withdrew. She shivered a little, but continued to look at him.
“And you know what?” She asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I kind of like being bad.”
She flashed him a mischievous smile that made her look even more beautiful than before.
He was hard again.
She flipped on her back.
“Do you want to do it again?” She asked, spreading her legs open.
“Yes,” he said. “But let’s do it a different way.”
She looked at him dubiously.
“There are other ways you can do it? She asked, surprised.
“Oh yes,” he growled.

At first, he thought about taking her from behind, but that seemed wrong somehow—too degrading for someone as beautiful as her. Besides, he wanted to look at her while they did it. So, instead he told her to get on top.
She continued to look dubiously, until he told her to put him inside of her.
After that nature took its course.
And, her passion more than making up for her lack of experience.
She cried out softly, in both surprised and lust. Her hips grinding on top of him.
Her pace quickened. Her movements more aggressive.
Her body tensed, and then shook.
She screamed, even as her lips quivered.
Her body went limp, a dreamy smile on her face.
She leaned forward.
Her lips seeking his, finding them easily.
Pulling back, left her panting again.
Her chest heaved, causing her large breasts to rise and fall, much to Martin’s delight.
She touched his cheek, but quickly pulled back, again with a shiver.
“You’re not even sweating,” she said.
She, on the other hand, dripped with sweat, so much so that her hair looked completely soaked.
“That’s because you’re the hot one,” Martin said.
She rolled her eyes again, and scoffed.
He sat up, and then buried his face between her cleavage. She tasted salty, as his tongue traced the curve of her breasts.
She jumped suddenly, as his tongue flicked across one of her nipples.
“Do that!” She cried.
“Do that!” She cried again, as he continued to lick her nipples.
“So sensitive,” she groaned, wrapping her hands around the back of his head—pushing him closer.
“Yes,” she whimpered, as he suckled her left nipple.
Abruptly, she pushed him back, hard this time.
“I want you,” she said, her lips curling into a snarl. “I want you now!”
He grabbed her, pushing her close, and holding her tight.
Then he gave her what she wanted.
There was no holding back now—the animal stirred inside of him.
His thrusts were hard and powerful.
On top of him, her body struggled, trying to pull free of his grasp. Pain and lust twisting her expression, into something ugly.
His hips were on autopilot, pumping into her with piston like precision.
He screamed.
She screamed too.
They came together.
Spent, he relaxed his grip.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let’s do it again,” she said, licking her lips—a flash of the whore coming through.

He held her in a tender embrace.
Earlier, he had guided her hand down to her crotch, and now she pleasured herself, as he gently thrust into her.
Passion guided their actions, and pleasuring each other became their all consuming goal.
They were on their sides in a spooning position.
He held her right leg up, pushing inside of her.
They made love again, pausing only briefly in their lovemaking to kiss.
Soon her legs trembled.
He increased his pace, wanting to cum with her.
She whimpered as he brought himself close.
He came, and so did she: her hips thrusting back—milking every last drop he had.
Spent he pulled free of her, letting go of her leg in the process.
Her hand sought his.
He gave it to her, and felt her squeeze.
A sigh escaped her lips, and soon he heard her softly dozing.
He sat up, lightly running his hand down the curves of her hips.
I could keep her like this, he thought, young and innocent forever.
She looked so beautiful.
But would that be fair to her? To be a teenage forever?
And what about Summer? This was her mom…
Martin felt torn between the lust he felt now, and love he had for the kind woman who had taken him in, and been a good mother to him.
As it turned out the decision proved to be out of his hands.
Sunlight spilled through the window, destroying her youth. Changing her back into the mother he had come to know.
He suddenly felt ashamed about what he had done, and covered her naked body with a blanket.
“Rosie,” he said.
She moaned in her sleep.
Her touched her forehead.
“Forget that we slept together,” he said. “Remember instead that you played with yourself, as you thought about the first boy you ever slept with.”
She nodded.
He might be damned, but it didn’t mean she had to be.
Before he left, he glanced at the drawing board in the corner of the room.
He saw that she had started a new page.
This one a full page spread.
In one corner of the page, the busty white headed woman stiffed a scream.
In the other corner, the black haired queen stood, wearing an evil grin on her face.
A wolf like creature took center stage, but there was a faint outline of a muscular man around the beast.
A single caption on the page read: “DECEPTION.”
So, a part of Rosie knew the truth.
And the shame and guilt he felt now intensified.
Martin left the room—his tail between his legs.

TO BE CONTINUED...

CHAPTER 12: AFTERNOON DELIGHT