#50
The warmth of the shower enveloped us, a soothing balm for the lingering exhaustion of the night before. Steam curled upward in soft waves, blurring the tiled walls and turning the world into a haze of heat and comfort. The rhythmic patter of water against skin and tile became a steady heartbeat that filled the quiet space.
As the water cascaded down, Ally’s dark locks clung to her shoulders and back, gleaming under the dim light. Her eyes were closed in calm delight as she tilted her face toward the stream, letting the water run freely over her skin.
Behind her, Aunt Morgana worked the shampoo into her hair, her fingers moving in gentle circles.
The faint scent of lavender mixed with the steam, and Morgana’s soft humming gave the moment a tender rhythm, like a lullaby.
I stood beside them, letting the heat seep into my tense muscles. Drop. Drop. The water rolled down my arms, warm and steady, chasing away the ache that still lingered from the long night.
My thoughts began to drift as the sound of running water filled my ears.
For once, there was no rush, no noise, no tension—just the simple, grounding comfort of being here, breathing the same warm air, hearing their laughter echo faintly through the mist.
How peaceful, I thought.
Suddenly, I felt hands wrapped around my dick, and saw Aunt Morgana start lathering me with soap, starting at my erection.
A sharp, involuntary breath hitched in my throat, the peaceful trance shattered by the sudden, intimate contact.
My eyes, which had been half-lidded with relaxation, flew open to meet Aunt Morgana’s gaze.
Her expression held no lust, only a deep, knowing warmth that matched the steam swirling around us. Her humming had ceased, replaced by a soft, almost imperceptible smile that played on her lips.
Her touch was not hurried or demanding, but deliberate and reverent.
The soap, slick and cool against the hot water, lathered in her capable hands, her movements a slow, circular massage that made my knees feel weak.
“When are you going to stop calling me Aunt, and start calling me Mom?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the hiss of the water.
The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I was at a loss for words.
“That’s…Mom?” I thought for a moment, and then with an amused smile, said, “Not like it’s that hard or anything.”
The words felt strange on my tongue, but they also felt right.
Yeah… it felt right, but it doesn’t mean that I have that kind of fetish…okay?
Aunt Morgana’s smile widened, a delight that seemed to light up her entire being.
“That’s my boy,” she whispered, her voice filled with a pride and affection that made my heart swell.
Ally, sensing the shift in the energy, opened her eyes.
She glanced over her shoulder, a droplet of water tracing a path from her temple to her chin. Instead of shock, a slow, languid smile spread across her face, a silent communication passing between her and her mother that sent a fresh wave of heat through me that had nothing to do with the shower.
“Relax, dear. Let mommy wash you,” Morgana murmured, her voice a low thrum that vibrated through the steam, more felt than heard. “Your muscles are tensed, sweetie. Relax,”
“I am,” I sigh.
“You are not,”
Aunt Morgana corrected gently, her tone utterly devoid of judgment.
She used one hand to cup the weight of my erection, her thumb continuing its slow, mesmerizing circle, while the other hand, coated in suds, moved upward.
“If you were relaxed, your shoulders wouldn’t be hiked up to your ears,” she chuckled softly, the sound muffled by the falling water.
She moved the palm of her hand across my collarbone, the pressure firm but expert, spreading the lather across my chest. The movement drew the heat away from my core momentarily, flooding my senses with the cool, peppermint scent of the soap and the strength of her touch, and I moaned.
She stepped nearer, her body heat a strong barrier against the cooler air surrounding the steam.
As she worked the muscles along my neck and the back of my shoulders, kneading out the knots I hadn’t realized were there, the forced tension of my stance eased slightly.
It was a purely maternal, restorative touch, yet grounded by the unmistakable, erotic weight of her other hand resting intimately where she had started. The duality was overwhelming, confusing my body’s impulses.
Ally shifted slightly behind her mother, hugging her from behind. Her hands cupping her huge breasts while her chin propped on her mother’s shoulder.
Aunt Morgana asked me to sit at the edge of the bathtub, and so I did. However, when she crouched lower and started washing my feet, Ally, now face-to-face with my hard cock, suddenly leaned down and started licking the head, teasing me.
I held her head to thrust my cock inside her mouth, but Ally playfully swatted my hands and said, “Mom is washing you, so behave,” frustrating me. Then she would do it again, teasing me.
“Patience, Alvin,”
Aunt Morgana murmured, her voice as rich as the steam curling around us. She remained kneeling at my feet, her soap-slick hands gliding along my calves with unhurried reverence.
Every stroke was deliberate, almost ceremonial—worship in motion. The pressure of her fingers kneaded into my muscles, coaxing out tension I hadn’t even known I carried. Water sluiced between us, carrying away suds and resistance alike.
Behind her, Ally continued her relentless teasing. Her tongue, sharp and quick, would ghost the sensitive ridge of my cock before retreating, always followed by the flash of her mischievous, wicked grin.
As if she were an expert tormentor, her lips brushed the fragile underside of my shaft, only to pull back just as my muscles coiled in anticipation. Her soft, maddening laughter was a warm current against my skin.
Morgana’s hands, however, were my terra firma. While Ally was all playful anarchy, her mother worked with a paradox of devotion and discipline.
Morgana shifted upward, trailing her warm palms along my thighs, the dense, fragrant suds catching in the coarse hair there.
Her touch was meticulous. Her thumbs pressed deep into the creases where leg met hip, massaging the tissue in slow, widening circles that chased the tension from my core.
My breath hitched as her fingers ghosted lower, brushing the very base of my shaft. It was close enough to make my pulse jump against the blood rushing beneath my skin, but it was a calculated near-miss—never an indulgence.
“Every part of my baby deserves care,” she murmured close to my ear, her voice low and rich, as if she could read the exact tally of my frustration.
Then, as if to prove her point, she rose fluidly, her body glistening under the spray. Her hands moved to my abdomen, spreading lather in broad, soothing sweeps. She leaned in, her breath warm against my neck as she worked over my pectorals, her fingers tracing the ridges of muscle with a look that was somewhere between admiration and hunger. The peppermint soap tingled as she dragged her nails lightly down my sides, setting my skin alight in a trail of icy heat.
Ally, still hugging her mother from behind, nipped playfully at my earlobe, her teeth just catching the skin.
“Mom’s really thorough, isn’t she?” she whispered, her voice thick with pure, unadulterated amusement.
A guttural sound tore from my chest. “Yeah, unlike you.” I managed a strained smirk.
“Fuck you,” Ally instantly retorted, rolling her eyes with mock offense before sliding a hand around her mother’s waist. She mirrored Morgana’s movements—only her touch was bolder, her fingers trailing pointedly lower to graze the tip of my cock again.
Morgana gave her daughter’s wrist a light, warning swat, but made no move to stop her entirely. The duality was truly maddening: the mother’s meticulous, almost ceremonial worship, and the daughter’s relentless, boundary-pushing cruelty.
“Ally, stop bothering your mother and wash yourself,” I grunted, desperate to end the internal warfare she was waging.
“I don’t want to hear that from you. Why are you making my mother wash you? Are you some kind of spoiled prince?” she challenged, clearly annoyed by my demand.
“She’s also my mom now, you know,” I said, smirking.
“Come on. Stop fighting, you two,” Morgana intervened, her tone a smooth balm over the friction. “I’m doing this because I like it, Ally. So stop teasing your brother.”
“He’s not my brother!” Ally pouted, annoyed.
A moan of pure, involuntary delight tore from me, not just because Morgana had defended me, but because her hands suddenly slid around to my back, her thumbs pressing deep into the dimples just above my ass. She kneaded the tension there with an unyielding, powerful grip.
“You liking it, honey?” she mused, her lips brushing my shoulder blade, her voice vibrating through my muscles.
“Yes, haaah—I almost feel bad not paying for this kind of service.”
“Haha, aren’t you sweet?”
Ally took advantage of my complete sensory distraction, finally closing her lips around me. She swallowed me down in one slow, torturous motion.
I cursed, my hips jerking instinctively forward, a sound of strangled surprise catching in my throat. But Aunt Morgana’s grip on my hips was iron, anchoring me exactly where I stood.
“Come on, stop moving,” she chided, though there was no real reproach in her tone—only dark, intoxicating amusement.
“But, Ally is…”
“Just ignore her.”
As if I can do that! The world dissolved into two warring sensations: the grinding pressure of Morgana’s thumbs locking my body in place, and the wet, velvety heat of her daughter’s mouth.
I groaned, almost cursing.
Ally was looking at me with an evil smirk while bobbing her mouth.
The sensations were overwhelming, a maelstrom of pleasure and tension that left me dizzy and breathless. Morgana’s strong, confident hands continued to work their magic on my back, her thumbs digging into knots of tension I didn’t even know I had. Each press and knead sent waves of relief and desire coursing through me, anchoring me in a place of pure, primal need.
Ally, meanwhile, was relentless in her ministrations. Her mouth was a velvet vise, her tongue swirling and teasing, drawing me deeper with each torturous suck and lick.
I could feel the heat building in my core, the pressure mounting with each stroke of her lips and tongue. Her eyes, locked on mine, held a mischievous glint, as if she were deriving immense satisfaction from my struggle to maintain control.
“Ally, you’re… you’re killing me,” I managed to gasp out, my voice a raw, desperate rasp.
She pulled back just enough to speak, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Good. I want you to feel every second of this.”
Morgana chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against my skin. “She’s a minx, isn’t she? But she’s got a point. You should savor this, let go of everything else.”
Her words were like a match to tinder, igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume me whole. I let out a shuddering breath, trying to steady myself, but it was no use. The dual assault on my senses was too much, too intense.
Ally’s hand joined her mouth, her fingers wrapping around the base of my shaft, squeezing and stroking in time with her movements. The combination of her hot, wet mouth and her firm, confident touch sent me spiraling, my hips bucking involuntarily.
“Fuck, Ally… Au- Mom, I…” I choked out, my hands fisting at my sides, knuckles white with the effort of holding back.
Morgana’s grip on my hips tightened, her thumbs pressing harder, deeper.
“Let go, darling. Give in to it. We’ve got you.”
And with those words, I surrendered completely, letting go of every last shred of control. The overwhelming tide of pleasure crashed over me, each wave more intense than the last, until I was nothing more than a trembling, gasping mess.
My body convulsed, a guttural cry tearing from my throat, raw and primal, as I came undone in her mouth. Ally’s cheeks puffed out, bloated with my release, her eyes locked on mine, a look of pure, unadulterated triumph shining in their depths. She held me captive with her gaze, savoring every second of my surrender.
Behind me, Aunt Morgana was holding me upright. Her hands roamed my back, her thumbs pressing into the knots of tension, coaxing them away with a skillful, unyielding grip.
As the last of my cum spilled into her mouth, Ally pulled back, a wicked smile playing on her lips. She spat the thick, white load onto her palm and looked at her mother.
“Mom, you want?” she asked.
Aunt Morgana chuckled, a low, sultry sound that vibrated through her chest and into my back.
“Oh, no, dear. You can have it. I’ll have mine later.”
Ally’s smirk widened, and she brought her palm to her mouth, pouring the cum from her hand to her lips. She swallowed, her throat working as she took it all, her eyes never leaving mine.
“You cum so many times last night, but you still spew out a huge amount every time. Just how much are you making, huh?” she asked, her tone a mix of awe and amusement.
Morgana’s voice, filled with a pride and admiration that made my heart swell, cut through the steam-filled air from behind me.
“Isn’t that just a sign of a good man, Ally?”
Her words were a testament to my virility, a validation that sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through me.
I felt a surge of pride at her statement.
A sign of a good man. I mused.
