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BBW Curvy Fat Busty does titjob

BBW Curvy Fat Busty does titjob

BBW-Curvy-Fat-Busty does titjob

I Love My AuntybySucker4Boobies©

You know a really good activity to keep yourself occupied on an airplane? Trying not to get a boner. I was doing all I could to keep myself soft: I played Flappy Bird, I tried taking a nap, and I tried reading the SkyMall magazine. Hell, I even tried to chat up the elderly couple seated next to me. So far, it was still an ongoing struggle.

I was on a flight headed to Wisconsin. I was going to spend 2 glorious weeks with the woman who was filling my thoughts with lust and making it difficult for me to suppress my erection. That woman happened to be my aunt.

It all started a month ago. I had just finished my sophomore year of college and my younger sister Kathryn was about to graduate from high school. My family was making a big deal of it because she was a genius. She was Valedictorian, a National Honor Society member, and the French Honor Society president, the list goes on. She had a full ride to Columbia University and was raking in more graduation gift money than I had ever gotten at her age.

Though my parents were loath to admit it, she was the favorite; I didn’t mind at all. I was getting decent grades, saving my money, and staying out of trouble. It was nice to be home for the summer, and my parents were too busy doting on my younger sister to give me any real grief, so I pretty much got to relax.

My mom was expecting many of our family to turn out for the event. She had invited pretty much everyone to the graduation ceremony, and had planned for a big after-party at our house. One notable relative that she had invited was Aunt Beatrice.

I had only met Aunt Beatrice once or twice in my entire life. She was my mother’s younger half-sister. My grandparents had divorced when my mom was five, and my grandfather had remarried and started another family. My mother and aunt enjoyed a distant but friendly relationship. She would occasionally send us Christmas and birthday gifts, and mom would force us to write her letters of thanks.

Since most of my family lived here in Iowa, Aunt Beatrice was the only relative we had to board in our house, since she was visiting from Wisconsin. My mom had determined that since I wasn’t doing my share in preparing for the festivities, I should be charged with picking up Aunt Beatrice from the airport. I got to the airport half an hour before her flight was supposed to land. I stood in the baggage claim area, looking for a woman who was supposed to vaguely resemble my mother. I turned around in response to someone tapping me on the shoulder.

“Andy?” the woman asked.

“You must be Aunt Beatrice!”

The woman screeched as she pulled me in for a hug. Aunt Beatrice was a plump little woman with amber colored hair and a pretty face. I chuckled as she pressed me against her doughy body. After she released me, I was surprised at how she didn’t resemble my mom at all. I carried her bags to the car and loaded them inside. We conversed pleasantly on the way home.

“My, you’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you,” she remarked. “You must have been about four or five then.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely been a while,” I agreed.

“It was so nice of your mother to invite me. Hopefully, she and I can get some quality time together. So, do you have a place of your own?”

“Not yet,” I said. “I just finished my second year of college, so I just stay in a dorm during the school year, and come home for the holidays. In all honesty, I miss my dorm, though.”

“I bet,” she laughed. “I remember my college days cooking for myself, working at McDonalds, and getting sauced up at Packers games.”

“Packers?!?” I pulled my car out of the main road and into a gas station parking lot. “Well, have fun walking to the house. You’re in Bears Fan Territory.”

Aunt Beatrice crowed with laughter at my joke. I smiled as I continued on our way home. She told me more about herself, namely that she was a registered nurse back in Wisconsin and loved watching sports, cooking, and playing cards.

When we reached the house, my parents and sister eagerly greeted Aunt Beatrice. Not wanting to get chewed out, I busied myself with getting Aunt Beatrice’s bags out of the car. Once I had finished, I planned to park it and watch television.

“Make sure you’re careful with those bags when you take them to your room,” my mother said as I carried the luggage into the house.

I tried not to roll my eyes in frustration. Ever since I got home, my mother had been telling me that I would be surrendering my old room to Aunt Beatrice during her stay. I would be staying down in the basement, but didn’t care; I had my own world down there, complete with a fridge, television, and hot plate.

Read Moore

Originally posted 2017-07-06 21:31:55.

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