Young Nephew - Sex Stories

Young Nephew

... evoked in the eyes of the opposite sex. Imagine a young, very top heavy Page Three Girl with a satchel full of Proust books and the mind of a pointy-headed intellectual, and you begin to form an accurate picture of her younger self. Admirers from behind never failed to notice her almost rudely sexualized gait -- the natural and unaffected result of a narrow waist, relatively wide hips, and a curvy, fleshy behind. Now, at fifty-eight, the hair had graduated to a rather chic salt-and-pepper (though admittedly more salt than pepper). The hips and derriere were decidedly larger -- post birthing of her now three adult c***dren -- and though the tummy was relatively trim, there were beachheads of cellulite she could no longer deny. Good genes and the combination of swimming and Pilates had kept the worst of gravity's effects at bay. Most mercifully of all, considering her bra size, Doris's heavy bust remained relatively buoyant. Requiring a size 30D bra by the time she was fifteen, Doris had continued to blossom well into her late twenties. Post pregnancies, and now in her late fifties, she now shopped in specialty lingerie shops for bras size 34GG. Refreshed, she met and double-kissed Grace and her f****y in the restaurant a little while later. Having married a Frenchman and raised several c***dren in France, Doris's younger s****r had long since fully acclimated to her adopted country across the Channel. Grace was a fluent Parisienne now, and France was her home. Like her older ...

... s****r, she exuded an understated sophistication in style, manners, and carriage. Having not seen them in almost five years, Doris almost felt like she was meeting Grace's c***dren for the first time -- such was the degree to which they had grown up and matured. Amelie, the eldest, with her fiancé by her side, was a beautiful woman in her own right; Margot, the middle c***d, and in her mid-twenties, was equally lovely. But it was their youngest, Tristan, who truly caught Doris's eye. Tristan had been adopted from Easter Europe when he was a baby. Now eighteen, he had morphed from a shy, gangly pubescent boy into a conspicuously handsome and well-spoken young man. With his native Romanian colouring -- jet black hair, angular features, brooding green eyes, and sensuous lips -- and the heavily French-accented (albeit fluent) English, he was clearly going to cause a great number of women to swoon in the years to come. The group of them enjoyed a lovely dinner together and the wine flowed freely. Grace and her f****y had often holidayed in the area, knew it well, and the conversation turned to the sites worth seeing and the surrounding areas. Doris's s****r offered up her young son as her own private tour guide during her two week stay. Doris took pity on the young man and said it wasn't necessary -- that he likely had a lot more fun things to occupy his time than to tour around with an old lady -- but Grace would have no part of it. "I would love to show you around, Auntie Doris," ...