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

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

... always be subject to her rules.

His jeans were tugged down along with any pretense of adulthood he thought might protect him; she then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down too, leaving Taylor stark naked and vulnerable under her steadfast gaze.

“Over my knee,” commanded MJ firmly, pointing down at her lap which now served as an altar for punishment and rebirth from boyish follies.

Positioned awkwardly over his aunt's thighs, skin on skin, where control met surrender, Taylor felt every pounding heartbeat as shame mingled oddly with anticipation. And then it began: each spank was delivered methodically by MJ's hand onto Taylor's bare bottom which soon turned red with heat, not only from pain but from a complex cocktail of emotions flooding through him; embarrassment mixed seamlessly with an unexpected rush each time hand met flesh forcefully.

MJ kept up a steady rhythm ensuring each swat brought both sting and burn, a message imprinted onto tender skin reminding Taylor that his actions bore consequences. With gritted teeth and clenched fists resting on the floor, his toes pointed towards the ceiling beams. He silently accepted the situation, understanding deep down that this was both owed and perhaps even necessary.

The air filled with sounds that echoed far beyond those walls; the sharp slaps punctuating silence followed by heavy breaths drawn between clinched jawlines. His Aunt's forceful discipline, meant to instill ...

... obedience, instead awakened an undercurrent of confusing feelings, a conflicting mix of shame and desire.

Amid this old-fashioned corrective session, as Taylor's skin began to warm and redden from each precise strike of MJ's hand, a peculiar tension built within him. Caught between the sting of her discipline and the softness of her thighs as her sundress had ridden up higher along her thighs, he felt an undeniable arousal building beneath his belly, a response that left him mortified.

The stark contrast between his naked vulnerability and her clothed form, the more a certain heat not born from spanking alone sparked within him. A shameful yet unstoppable erection grew, pressing desperately against the warmth and softness of Aunt MJ's body.

His body betrayed his thoughts to MJ, whose keen senses did not miss the shift in weight or the increased tension in his frame. A pause hung heavily in the air filled only by their joint breathing as recognition dawned without need for spoken acknowledgment, the unsaid recognition of this new reaction that diverged sharply from the obedient acceptance of childhood discipline in years.

Taylor remained draped across his aunt's lap, and the rhythm of the session resumed, each spank a reminder that she controlled this space between discipline and desire despite—or perhaps because of—the growing hardness pressed unmistakably against her lap serving only to deepen red hues spread across flustered cheeks both above…and below.

As he lay ...