Turbulence in Silk Stockings novel · Chapter 1 of 12
Chapter 1: Movies for Tonight
It was almost midnight and I was jerking off.
I know, not the best way to start a story.
But I'd been living at my uncle Gumaro's house for three weeks, in the guest room, with nothing but a drywall partition between me and the rest of the house.
And on the other side of that wall slept my aunt Isaura.
She was my dad's brother's wife—an aunt in name only, not a single drop of blood shared between us.
She was thirty-eight, wore a navy blue flight attendant uniform that fit her like it was painted on, and had long legs sheathed in silk stockings all day long.
I was twenty-two.
And the same question as always: what the hell was going on in my head.
That night, she and I were home alone.
My uncle was on rotation in Monterrey and wouldn't be back for ten days.
Laptop off, bedside lamp on, and my hand busy.
I closed my eyes.
I thought about two days ago in the hallway, when she came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her hair and another tied under her arms.
She'd stopped mid-step, looked me up and down, and laughed.
"Sorry, Lucho. I didn't know you were here."
She knew.
I was sure she knew.
I squeezed harder.
Then the door opened.
No knock.
She never knocked.
My aunt Isaura stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame.
She was only wearing lingerie.
A set of fine black lace, with a garter belt and silk stockings that came up to her thighs.
Her breasts were full and round, barely held in by the lace, her nipples showing through.
Startled, I yanked the blanket up and covered myself with both hands.
"Aunt..." My voice cracked. "Why do you come in without knocking?"
She didn't answer right away.
She looked at me.
Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, and she wore a nervous smile I'd never seen on her before.
"Lucho, don't be mad."
"I'm not mad."
"It's just... I need you."
My stomach dropped to the floor.
"Lucho, I'm sorry. It's just that I'm burning up with need and your useless uncle won't even touch me."
She said "useless" like she was spitting out a thorn.
She took two steps closer.
I sank into the pillow.
"I've been like this for months," she went on. "I lie awake staring at the ceiling. I'm embarrassed, but I can't take it anymore."
"Aunt..."
"Come on." She sat on the edge of my bed and the mattress dipped. "Find me some dirty movies on your laptop. The hardcore kind. Something I can take care of myself with."
I was speechless.
I could feel the blood pounding in my ears.
She smelled like coconut cream and airport perfume, and her thigh was ten centimeters from my covered hand.
I should have said no.
I should have told her to go back to her room.
But she was looking me right in the eyes.
And she let her gaze drift down, slowly, to the blanket.
To the tent I couldn't hide.
She bit her lip.
"Oh, Lucho," she whispered. "You were busy."
"It's not what—"
"Oh, it's exactly what." She laughed softly. "And it's still rock hard."
I couldn't deny it.
I took a deep breath and told myself I had nothing to lose.
I pulled my hand out from under the blanket, in plain sight.
"What if I help you with that instead?"
I blurted it out before I could think.
The silence lasted a century.
She tilted her head.
She had that mole under her lip and her green eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them.
"Are you hitting on me?"
"Yes."
"I'm your uncle's wife."
"Yes."
"I'm sixteen years older than you."
"Sixteen exactly," I said. "I did the math three weeks ago."
She burst out laughing, her breasts shaking.
Then she went quiet.
She leaned toward me and placed a hand on the mattress, right by my hip.
Her breath brushed my mouth.
"If I say yes," she murmured, "you're not going to treat me like some old lady."
"Never."
"And you're not going to talk."
"I'll be a vault."
"And you're going to do everything I tell you."
My throat went dry.
"Everything."
She smiled.
She slipped her hand under the blanket.
Her long, cool fingers found my cock and wrapped around it completely.
I let out a stifled groan.
She squeezed slowly, from base to tip, watching my face.
"Look at that," she said. "This hard, and all for me."
"Aunt..."
"Isaura. When you've got me in your hand, it's Isaura."
She started moving her wrist.
Slow at first, with a pressure that made me see stars.
Then faster, circling her thumb over the head every time she came up, spreading the drop already leaking out of me with her finger.
I threw my head back and gripped the sheets.
"That's it," she whispered. "What a pretty sound."
With her other hand, she took mine and placed it on her leg.
The silk was warm.
I slid up her thigh to the lace edge.
She opened her knees just a little.
My fingers found the fabric of her panties, completely soaked.
"God," escaped me.
"Yeah." She bit her lip. "See? I've been like this for weeks."
I rubbed against her over the lace and watched the smile fade from her face.
Her breathing quickened.
I felt like I was about to come any second too.
And then her phone rang.
It was on the nightstand, next to my lamp.
The screen lit up with a photo of my uncle in uniform and the word "Gumaro."
We both froze.
She looked at the phone.
Then she looked at me.
And something very different crossed her eyes.
Not fear.
Decision.
Without letting go of me, she stretched out her free arm, grabbed the phone, and swiped her finger.
"Hi, my love."
Her voice sounded sweet, tired, perfect.
I stared at her, eyes wide.
With her other hand, she squeezed my cock and winked at me.
"Am I asleep yet?" she said into the phone. "Not yet, my life. I was watching a movie."
And she kept moving her hand.
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