Weekend at Aunt Ivy’s

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Noelle shut the heavy wood door behind her and punched in the five-digit code on the backlit keypad of the burglar alarm. The flashing red bar above turned solid green. Locking the deadbolt she returned the phone to her ear.

“Okay, I’m in,” she said, kicking her shoes off on the mat and looking around. “I don’t see a switch.”

“There isn’t one,” Aunt Ivy replied, the sound of waves breaking on a beach clearly audible in the background. “Take two more steps.”

Noelle did as she was told. Mid-stride the overhead lights faded up, illuminating the living room, kitchen, and foyer of the sprawling desert mansion in a soft white hue. Warm gray tile floors, smooth neutral walls, and ceilings with suspended wood slat accents greeted her as she rounded the corner. The distance across the room was larger than her Phoenix apartment.

“You live here by yourself?” she marveled.

Aunt Ivy laughed. “For now,” she said. “Besides, I entertain a lot, so the space is useful.”

Noelle strolled into the kitchen. She set her gym bag on the island counter and made a beeline for the refrigerator. “Well thanks for letting me stay here this weekend.” She swiped a soda from the top shelf and popped the tab. “Hotel prices are ridiculous with football draft thing going on.”

“Of course dear, any time. But promise me you’ll find something better than that shit hole you live in. Last month it was the air conditioning, this time it’s the pipes? You deserve better.”

“I know I know,” Noelle agreed, rolling her eyes. “It’s all I can afford right now. I start my new job in a few weeks, I’ll find something then.”

“Okay,” Aunt Ivy chuckled. “Well, enjoy the weekend. The pantry is stocked so eat whatever you want. There’s wine in the little fridge under the microwave. The pool is open if you want to swim, and the gym is by the laundry room if you want to work out.” She paused for a moment, thinking about something. “Oh, and if you have…company, the condoms are in the vanity in the bathroom.”

Noelle spat soda over the counter and down the front of her shirt. “Oh my god Aunt Ivy!” She blushed so hard she feared her aunt could see her cheeks through the phone. Her aunt cackled.

“Oh come on, you’re not a kid anymore. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad.”

“Well I have papers to write that are due Monday morning but thank you very much. And I have to go now, I have a spill to clean up.”

“All right dear, have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Noelle snatched several squares of paper towel from the roll and dabbed at the splotches on the counter. From what she knew of her aunt the list of things she wouldn’t do was likely pretty short. That didn’t seem to be a problem. It may even have helped. She didn’t make VP of Marketing for a Fortune 500 company being timid.

But Noelle was not her aunt. She was a reserved college senior who never made waves, with a 3.8 GPA and a quiet, respectable analytics job lined up post-graduation. A weekend at the clothing-optional resort Aunt Ivy was visiting would have been mortifying. She preferred things low-key and un-eventful. And a few days away from the madness of the city was exactly what she needed to finish her term papers.

She peeled off her tee shirt and held it up to the light for a better look. There were several splotches trailing down from the center of the band logo. But the soda was clear, and diet, so it wasn’t going to stain. A few dabs of water should do the trick.

Turning toward the sink a thought struck her. She was surrounded by windows. Any way she turned she could see the desert. Cool air chilled her breasts, poking her nipples into the fabric of her bra. She whipped her top back on and hurried to the glass dividing the kitchen from the patio, nervous that someone may have seen her.

In the twilight she could barely make out the low fieldstone wall defining the edge of the hill to the south. Beyond that, scrub brush. And the odd cactus. Nothing else for miles. She crossed the expanse to the living room window and peered out. Broad cones of yellow light marked the front walk and the edge of the driveway. Beyond that, Phoenix twinkled on the horizon.

She was alone. Relieved, she sank into the plush leather sectional and surveyed her surroundings. Everything was so vast. The room. The house. The desert sky. All the empty space in the world occupied solely by her. She shifted in the seat, suddenly uncomfortable. She was often alone. It was quiet. Refreshing. Usually she enjoyed it. But this…this felt strangely different. Out here she felt…lonely.

She tried to brush it off. It had been a long day; she was probably just tired. Nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. Retrieving her bag from the kitchen she wandered down the broad angled hallway.

To the left was a closed door centered in a long blank wall and a large opening to what looked like an office at the far end. All five doors to the right were open. She shuffled through the middle one into a plush, comfortable bedroom with two large windows facing the back lot. She peered out bahis şirketleri at the stars one more time, then closed the blinds, stripped down to her tee shirt and panties, and readied herself for bed.


The heat of the morning sun crept over Noelle’s cheek, gently waking her from a pleasant dream around 8:15. She gazed at the glowing blinds scattering orange light over the cool gray walls of the room and marveled at the colors of the desert sunrise. Something she never got to see through the north-facing windows of her apartment.

She rolled out of bed and wandered to the glass, the air cool on her bare legs. As sprawling as the estate seemed in the dark the night before, it was even more extensive in daylight. Beyond the fieldstone the scrub rolled on forever. She knew the neighbors were out there somewhere — she’d passed them on the way in. But you would never know that from here.

A mass of black to her left grabbed her attention. Surrounded by a border of textured white tiles was the retractable cover spanning the largest inground pool she’d ever seen in anyone’s yard. Her aunt’s voice rose from the back of her mind. “The pool is open if you want to swim.”

She mulled the thought. It was such a beautiful morning a swim seemed like the perfect way to get going. There was only one problem. She hadn’t packed a swimsuit.

She heaved the overnight bag onto the bed and rummaged through her clothes. Pulling out a purple lace bra and panties set, and a pair of bright blue hipsters with a matching sports bra, she laid them side by side on the puffy white comforter. Frowned. Neither set would fare well in chlorinated water. Nor would the red satin pair she slept in.

Flopping onto the mattress she sighed into her palm. The sun warmed her legs as she pondered her options. Maybe Aunt Ivy had a spare suit in a drawer somewhere. Her aunt was taller, but otherwise they were similar, so a two-piece might work if she could find one. She rolled off the bed and headed for her aunt’s room.

In the hallway with her hand on the lever she stopped. It was the only closed door in the house. There must have been a reason why. Entering without permission felt wrong, like a violation of her aunt’s trust. Returning to her room she swiped her phone from the nightstand and dialed Aunt Ivy’s number. It rang several times before shunting her to voicemail.

She dropped the phone in her lap and stared at the ceiling, annoyed at her fidelity to some unwritten code that probably didn’t exist. In the midst of chastising herself an alternate thought entered her head, in a voice suspiciously like her aunt’s. “You know,” it whispered, “you could just swim naked.”

A chill crept down her spine. She hadn’t been skinny dipping since she was thirteen–on a moonless night in her grandparents’ pool. She’d never considered doing it at some strange house. And certainly not in broad daylight. What if someone saw her? What would she say? What would she do? It was just out of the question.

Noelle returned to the hallway, entering the last doorway before the office. A mirror covered the entire wall to her left, with a large television mounted high in the center and racks of free weights organized at the base. To the right stood a rowing machine, a connected bike, and a treadmill; all amply spaced and of the most modern appointment. And ahead comprising the far wall, were the tinted glass doors to the pool.

She crossed the plank floor to the small screen next to the slider. As she approached it blipped to life, displaying the water temperature in bright blue digits, and offering the option to open or close the cover. “You’re not a kid anymore,” the voice echoed. Cautiously raising a finger she touched the green button. Outside, the black rectangle retracted slowly into the deck.

The water shimmered in the sunlight. Butterflies flit about Noelle’s stomach. Her hand drifted down to the latch on the door, tracing all its contours before twisting it to the open position. The clunk startled her, snapping her back into the moment. The wispy blond hairs on the back of her neck stood up, raising a lash of goosebumps from the nape to her tailbone. Trembling, she slid the door open.

She stepped out onto the hot tile, leaving the slider open behind her. A quick look left. Then right. Not a soul in sight. She started toward the water. The arid air wicked moisture from her skin, drying her nervous, clammy palms. She reached for the base of her tee shirt. There would never be a safer place for her to do this. Crossing her arms she pulled the shirt up over her head and tossed it to the deck.

Her B-cups bounced against her chest, free from their cotton shroud. Her pale skin drew sharp contrast to the browns and golds of the morning. She frowned. A little tan wouldn’t hurt either. She glanced around. The world had not imploded. No eyes popped up over the garden wall. She was still alone. Rolling her panties down over her thighs she stepped out of them and quickly descended the steps into the water.

The sparkling liquid soaked the heat from bahis firmaları her body, cooling both her skin and her nerves. She ducked beneath the surface, emerging moments later at the opposite bank. Flipping hair from her face she looked up at the sun and smiled. This was exactly what she needed.

While the morning aged she played in the water, alternating between end-to-end sprints and leisurely drifts around the midriff of the pool. She floated on her back, breasts breaching the surface like islands with a single peak, her muff concealed just below like a white sand beach skimmed by breaking waves. It wasn’t long before she forgot she’d ever been nervous to begin with.

The air was hot now, and she had no idea how long she’d been swimming. But her skin was beginning to prune. Taking one final dip below the surface she swam over to the steps and climbed out of the pool. She scanned the horizon north to east to south, spotting nothing more than the scrub and the sky. Drawing a deep breath, she strolled the long way round the deck toward the door.

She reached for towel from the cubby just inside the house. Gentle breeze fluttered her hair and evaporated beads of water from her skin. Enticed by the refreshment she left the towel on the shelf. At the head of the pool two deck chairs shared a candy-striped umbrella. She wandered over and stretched out in one. The parasol shadow shrouded her face, while the sun and desert wind dueled for her body.

She basked in the warmth of the day, her tummy slowly baking to a glistening white gold. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laid out at a beach or spent an hour at a tanning salon. It felt like she was back in high school, wasting weekends and summers without a care in the world. Now sweltering she rolled onto her stomach. Suddenly she realized much of that heat was coming from inside rather than out.

The moment her mound touched the fabric of the chair a spark flared in her core. It zipped around her pelvis and down her legs, curling her toes against the soles of her feet. She gasped, lifting her hips to ease the stimulation, exposing her pussy to the rays of the sun. The radiation seeped through the delicate skin, softening her syrup just enough to free a trickle down her inner thigh.

The wetness surprised her. Demanded her attention. She wedged an arm beneath her and a hand between her legs, smearing her grool through her slit, over her labia and around the hood of her clit. She sighed into the cushion, curling a finger into her pussy and an arch into her back. A ball of static fizzed in her womb. It crackled outward, setting every nerve ending abuzz.

She crushed her hand against the chair, the weight of weeks without release driving her hips in urgent undulation. The flood of cream spilling out frothed between her fingers, tickling her ears with delicious squelching sounds. She groaned into her shoulder. Sweat stained her lips. The salty tang deepened her thirst. To quench it she whipped her hand from her pussy and stuffed her dripping digits into her mouth.

The sweetness tickled her tastebuds. She sucked it eagerly from each finger, her clit tweaking with every smack of her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, blood roaring in her ears. She was losing herself in the moment. The sun beating down on her ass reminded her she was still outside. But the urge to sooth the ache between her legs overwhelmed her fear of being seen.

She raised her ass high, knees spread wide, breasts flattened against the chair. Her hand returned to her snatch, stabbing at her slit with her middle finger while the palm massaged her button. She shivered in the blistering heat, chills crawling through her pelvis and up across each vertebra. Her brain told her to get inside; that someone could be watching. Her body wished that someone was and wanted to close her out.

Her fingers flew over her mound, splashing her juices over her legs; ass cheeks trembling as she rolled her hips. She pictured herself at the edge of the yard, peeking over the wall at the spectacle splayed out before her. Flush trembling thighs soaked with sweat and syrup from a gaping pink pussy. High-arched feet pointed, toes curled, coiling energy building to explode.

Cresting the rise she hit a plateau. Clit throbbing, sex humming, she craved the release that was just out of reach. She slowed her strumming, increasing the pressure. But wet as she was the contact was frictionless and did nothing to nudge her forward.

Desperate she swirled about her pussy, tweaking her clit and savaging her folds till it sounded like water lapping the edge of the pool. Her free hand mauled her breasts, twisting her nipples between her knuckles. The ache between her legs was unbearable, but it refused to relent.

In her zeal to break through she strayed just a little from the bulge of her muff; a slick middle finger finding its way to the rosebud of her ass. A jolt shot all the way up to her brain. She’d found the trigger. Tracing tiny circles round the dip she felt the dam begin to strain and crack. Biting down on her kaçak bahis siteleri bottom lip she gave it a push and curled the knuckle inside. The floodgates opened, and her dizzying climax burst out into the light.

She screamed into the desert; her body racked with spasms. Cum gushed from her vagina, pooling on the cushion below. Her anus gripped the finger and held it inside as her thighs clamped shut around her wrist and slammed her pelvis into the puddle. She shuddered and writhed and humped her fist, wringing every last drop of pleasure from a grasping, sopping pussy.

Exhausted she collapsed on the chair, legs dangling over the sides, both arms pinned beneath her torso. Her skin gleamed with sweat. Ass cheeks twitched with the remnants of her orgasm. She huffed the hot air, trying to recover. Heat shimmered off the deck, an unnecessary reminder she was broiling in the sun.

Mustering her remaining strength she struggled to her feet. On wobbly knees she stumbled inside to the little bathroom off the gym just inside the sliding door. She turned the cold water on full and slumped under the stream, the chill a welcome respite for her sizzling skin. Rinsing away her cream she closed her eyes and replayed her exhibition over and over in her dizzy head.


After a quick lunch she hit the books. Several chapters on statistics and financial ethics, and six new pages into each essay she found herself restless. Distracted. The couch grew increasingly uncomfortable, and the words on the computer screen no longer made sense. She set down the laptop and stretched each limb, swelling her chest with a long deep sigh.

She wandered into the kitchen, dumped some ice cubes in a glass and filled it with water. Leaning on the counter she gulped it down. Her eyes wandered over the sweeping vista outside the window. In the center was the pool, crystal water sparkling in the afternoon sun. Something stirred in her sex. Startled she set the glass down and looked herself over. Her skin was flush. Her nipples strained against her tee shirt, and there was a small dark spot on the front of her shorts.

She fought the sudden urge to touch herself, not understanding where it came from, or why. A minute ago she was studying SEC filings and now all she could think of was her morning on the deck. She poured herself more water, hoping it would help. And while it soothed the warmth in her chest, it did nothing to quell the heat rising again between her legs.

She hurried back to the living room and flopped on the couch, snapping open the textbook to where she left off. She glared at the page like it had somehow betrayed her, determined to push through and finish the reading and the papers without further interruption. But the letters melted together, and the weight of the book in her lap tugged at her shirt which rubbed her tits and derailed her thoughts.

Flipping the book away she hopped up and paced at the windows, breathing deeply and biting her nails. What was wrong with her? There was a time for these urges. And this wasn’t it. The papers were due Monday morning. She was halfway through the weekend and was nowhere near finished. She needed a reset. Something to clear her head. She needed to take a walk.

She looked out at the desert, the glare almost blinding. Snatching her phone from the coffee table she checked the temperature. One hundred six degrees. No way was she going out there. There had to be something else. She drifted aimlessly back and forth for several minutes, trying to think of what to do. Her mind wandered back to the pool. As she tried to shake the thought, another memory replaced it. Aunt Ivy had a gym.

Snatching her sneakers from the mat by the front door Noelle snaked through the hallway to the workout room. With the sun now on the opposite side of the house, the tinted glass separating the room from the pool considerably darkened the space. She found a touchpad on the wall near the door and tapped it. The lights faded up. A faint whoosh floated from the ceiling and a cool, gentle breeze fluttered her hair across her face.

She picked out the treadmill and touched its control screen. Nothing happened. She tried again, several times. Still no response. Ducking around and craning her neck she searched for a switch or a button or a cord but came up empty. She felt a bit silly. It was a treadmill, not a starship. She shifted her attention to the other machines. She wasn’t a rower. But the bike would do just fine. If she could turn it on.

She tapped the screen between the handlebars, and it lit up immediately. Success! Kneeling to slip on her shoes she noticed something curious about the pedals. Instead of the traditional treaded rectangles, the crank arms were fitted with contoured mesh slippers on a formed neoprene sole. They weren’t designed for shoes at all.

Brushing aside her sneakers she took a closer look at the bike. Something else was amiss. The saddle seat was wider than most. It was also split down the middle, joined only at the front and the rear, with a healthy oval gap between. A yoke attached it to the broad, oval seat post a few inches below, with a threaded metal cap closing it off. She’d never seen anything like it. But it was obviously a high-end machine — maybe they all looked like this at that price.

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