This is the first story I ever wrote. It originally got published on Literotica in 2005. Since then I have edited it a little to this final form, mainly restoring the age of the narrator, which was changed to comply with Literotica rules. Just like Titta — the visibly underage main character of Fellini’s Amarcord smothered between the tobacconist’s fat boobs — my protagonist sees no problems in loving grown-up women and their generous shapes. This story and ALL my stories will never ever be about abuse. So, enjoy!
My Abundant Aunt Carmela
When I was younger, I used to go visit my aunt at her home during summer. My parents would send me there every year: it seemed natural to do so since she lived close to the beach. It was like a free vacation. Usually, I would stay with her alone for the entire month of August, except for the week when my parents and my uncle would join us for a brief holiday.
Every year, I couldn’t wait for summer to come. I had a few friends over in my aunt’s town, but that was not my real motivation. In fact, I couldn’t care less about them. They were just a bunch of stupid kids only interested in beach-volley, gelatos, and stupid skinny scantily-clothed Baywatch-type girls. For me, summer time was an excuse to go visit my aunt and admire her beauty. My aunt is the most sensual woman I ever saw.
I was a skinny, tiny little boy, and she was big, soft and cuddly. She was so tall my head would arrive a little below her shoulder, even though I was already fourteen! I would say she was 6’5″, at least. She was like a giant to me, in fact, not only was she tall, she was also fat and fine all around. Her chest was very ample and welcoming. Her tits were huge, two big watermelon-sized cushions. Her hips were wide and vast, and I’d say very comfy for a man who wanted to bury himself in between them: those round legs looked thick and soft. Her thighs were gracefully long and very large at the same time. And her arms were twice as thick as my thighs. I was completely fascinated by her luscious, excessively feminine body, and when she was around I couldn’t stop staring at her. I would think, “How big are those tits?” “she must be wearing the biggest bra ever made for sure!”, or “I bet her hips are like 90 inches, and those thighs, look how much flesh she has down there, it’s the softest and tightest place I could possibly come!”
I always loved to stare at her large, overfilled sacks of flesh called breasts. Yes, her tits were two watery bags of fat flesh, two giant jello cakes: they were so abundant I almost never watched porn, because just thinking about those mountains would make me come. She was really opulent. She was much bigger and more beautiful than any woman I could have seen on TV, or in porno movies. She was more gracious than any girlfriend I would meet and more attractive than any super-model. I remember my friends talking about the size of Serena Grandi’s boobs, or Pamela Anderson’s, or Chloe Vevrier’s, or even Russ Meyer’s babes, but all those tits were so small compared to my aunt’s. Generally speaking, I think all those actresses, models and stars are simply not padded enough to be really attractive.
The first time I stayed with aunt Carmela I was thirteen. It was at that age I realized just how beautiful she really was. That summer, I could not stop myself from masturbating 5 or 6 times a day. But, I mean, what was I supposed to do?
In the morning, she would come down the steep stairs while I was sitting on the couch, watching TV with my glass of milk. (if you were sitting on the couch you could see the TV and the stairs.) Step after step, I would behold her immense tits, as big as cantaloupes, bouncing and shaking like crazy, literally overflowing her huge bra. With my mouth dangling open, I would contemplate all that flesh bouncing up and down, and all I wanted was to put my head between those comfy pillows while I stuck my cock between her well-padded thighs. I wanted to feel her udders invading my mouth. Unfortunately, all I could do was masturbate.
When she was coming down the stairs, I could definitely see that her bra was not big enough. In fact, she was always wearing a nightgown, in an effort to contain and protect the vastness of her tit flesh. Still, you could clearly see her gown wobbling like crazy because of the continuous waves of flesh pushing from inside, and rippling like a wild ocean out of her bra. Those gigantic udders looked heavy and full of milk and were shoving to get out.
Her bosom really looked like an ocean, always crossed by soft and impetuous waves in endless motion. They were full of water, full to the top. And it was so incredible to watch her big tits move and bounce inside (and out!) of that gown: they were bouncing, and bouncing, and bouncing over and over, step after step, and because of their sheer size the gown was moved and pushed all around. It was like the poor vest was desperately trying to contain an unreasonable weight, a beefy mountain of fat flesh, tantamount to a heap of ripe persimmons, I would say. You could totally feel that whatever was inside, was massive, copious, voluminous, and deliciously creamy.
When she was coming down the stairs, she was always slow and careful, in an effort to moderate the “bouncing effect” of her boobs. I could see her, trying to watch where she was going to put her foot, glancing over the curves of her voluptuous body. Not an easy job. Most of the times she was successful: she kind of had to twist her bust over the banister in order to move the breast away from her sight. While doing this, her tits would protrude over toward me. However, sometimes she would eventually put down her foot in a more abrupt way, and suddenly rest all her weight on one foot. As a consequence, the entire weight of her breasts would immediately pour all the way down, overflowing her bra, inundating her vest, bouncing back and forth, shaking left and right, for so many magical seconds. I could see her tits bouncing out of her gown, like a high tide. It was just like an ocean of flesh stormed by a tempest, and I wanted to be in eye of that storm, feeling the obese masses of her heavy udders slapping on my face while my mouth sucked the milk from them.
A couple of times she was in such a hurry (I guess she had something cooking on the stove or something), that she rushed down the stairs so fast her boobs couldn’t tolerate it anymore. At first, they naturally bounced up and down, up and down, up to her chin, and then down low, slapping hard like oily water inside a big jug. It was unreal, but she didn’t stop: instead, she continued to run down the stairs, with all that flesh shaking, but after a few more heavy stomps her bra completely snapped open under the pressure of her giant udders. Her right tit popped out and hit the banister with a big “slap!”, before she quickly closed her gown. I remember this huge, fat teat uncontrollably erupting out…. beautiful, full of delicious wrinkles (probably because of the immense growth), and I wanted to lick and suck those wrinkles so bad. I wanted to adore them. I could almost feel their rich texture melting under my tongue. I wanted to feel those huge tits – which probably overgrew so many bras and clothing – completely cover my head.
After flashing me, my beautiful aunt quickly covered herself, while laughing out a sort of embarrassed, “Oh my god!”. Moreover, she didn’t care much about what had just happened and continued to run in front of me. I guess she really needed to reach the kitchen! With no bra, I could still hear her watermelon tits slapping on her stomach, while she was trying to tighten her gown.
Later, I also tried to explain to myself why all of that had happened, and why she ignored me as though she hadn’t flashed me at all, but I didn’t reach any conclusions. Probably she was in such a hurry she hadn’t fastened her bra properly before leaving her room, and she didn’t care about anything else. Anyway, that was the first time I saw her naked breast, even if for just a second or so.
Naturally enough, that same day I had problems sleeping. I kept waking up thinking about her. And boy, I jerked off so many times I don’t even remember. The scene on the stairs was the most amazing thing I had ever seen in my entire life. Luckily enough, my aunt had so much more to offer.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
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