Aunt MJ's Farm - Day 1 - A Return To My Youth - Sex Stories

Aunt MJ's Farm - Day 1 - A Return To My Youth

The summer heat was wrapping around Taylor like a thick, sweaty blanket as he dragged his suitcase up the dusty path to Aunt MJ's sprawling farmhouse. He was eighteen now, fresh out of high school and ready for a new chapter, but this summer was about reconnecting with roots before the college plunge. Roots that were deeply entangled with memories of raspberries picked under the sun and stern scoldings followed by warm, comforting embraces.

Aunt MJ greeted him at the door, a vision of strength wrapped in soft curves, her hair a wild mane of honey streaks framing her face kissed by years of sun. The sight brought back waves of nostalgia; those times she had held him close when fear or pain got too much, offering him solace in a way only she could.

Bella wasn't far behind her mother, taller since he last saw her, carrying herself with an air that screamed she wasn't just any farmer's daughter. There was fire in her eyes that met Taylor's with equal parts challenge and curiosity; they had grown alongside these fields into something unfamiliar yet enticing.

Days had settled into a steady rhythm for Taylor, with mornings spent feeding chickens and afternoons nurturing vegetable patches under a clear sky. He struggled with tasks he should have known by heart. It wasn't solely the challenge of farm work. His attention often drifted to Bella, finding her more captivating than correctly handling hay bales. Their banter grew sharper as tension rippled between them, a ...

... teasing game that always teetered on crossing lines since childhood.

MJ noticed something amiss after one particularly shoddy job patching up fences left goats wandering where they shouldn’t be. She summoned Taylor to her room, evoking a feeling akin to judgment day. Her tone brings back every moment spent nose to wall awaiting redemption through Auntie MJ’s hand.

“I know it's been some time since you needed…correcting,” MJ started, her stern gaze searching Taylor's youthful face. Taylor squirmed, his cheeks reddening with a mix of reluctance, lingering childhood fears, and a budding adult defiance.

“But I will not allow slack work, Taylor. Not on my farm,” she continued as he fidgeted under her gaze, his protest ready at his lips.

"But Aunt MJ, I'm an adult now. This isn't how you should deal with me screwing up," Taylor protested, attempting to assert himself against MJ's maternal authority, which he knew was absolute. MJ simply shook her head.

MJ simply shook her head. “Being an adult means taking responsibility for your actions, and sometimes learning lessons the hard way.”

Before Taylor could further argue his case, MJ had swiftly grasped him by the arm and led him over to a sturdy wooden chair in the center of the room. His protests became muffled stammers as she unbuckled his belt with practiced ease, a gesture that conveyed that no matter what age he was now or what kind of man he believed himself to be, here in this house under her watchful eye he would ...