Changling

Auntie Doreen did look very much like Colin's mother, only more of her, so to speak, with a huge bosom and bottom.....and wearing a very short skirt. She wore lots of make up, too, that made her look like the images of his mother that Colin created when he was wanking. What he first thought was a white blouse was in fact a clinging silky sweater that made Auntie Doreen jut out, and he realised that the large knobs on the front of her bosom were the middle-aged woman's nipples. There was no way that his hard prick was showing any signs of deflating, and he was embarrassingly conscious of the direction of her stare. Almost as an afterthought, he placed his hands over it.

‘Don't cover it,’ she cajoled in a deep, husky voice, ‘It's a big one. You should be proud of it. Aren't you?’ Colin squirmed and blushed an even deeper shade of scarlet. Taking his hand once again, she led him towards to stairs. ‘Come up to the bedroom and we'll get you dried down. I'm sure that it's not good for you to be wet. Come along now.’

Once again Colin found himself mesmerised by Auntie Doreen' continual chatter. The stairs were narrow, meaning that he had to follow her.....and, since she kept a tight grasp on his hand, he was walking with his face only inches from her swaying bottom and he was mesmerised by that as well. It was all that he could do to prevent himself feeling those restless globes, or even kissing them.

The bedroom that the woman led Colin towards lay at the end of the landing, at the front of the house. It was big - big enough for a large double bed, deep sofa and matching armchair, and various cupboards and chests of drawers. And it was so feminine, what with the soft dr**es and the silky pink duvet and pillows on the bed. This Colin noted as the lady steered him towards the bed. When the backs of his legs touched the bed she let go of his hand and immediately started to tug on his sports shirt. And, always, the endless chatter in her husky voice.