Cousins Don't Need Modesty

I awoke to the familiar and sweet smell of my aunt’s perfume and hairspray. It took a moment for me to realize that I had my arms wrapped around her naked body, embracing her, my face buried in her long, straight blonde hair, my nose touching her sexy neck.

I was abjectly terrified and panicked as I realized that I wasn’t just holding my aunt tightly; I had my cock buried in her ‘quim’, and she was sound asleep. I didn’t know what time it was, but my Aunt Alice’s snores told me that she was blithely unaware of the situation.

I wasn’t sure how I ended up in this precarious position, but I wasn’t proud of myself. My aunt was asleep. It was safe to assume that she must have decided to let me sleep in her bed rather than take me home when she got back from her night out.

However, there was no plausible scenario in which I could envision my aunt having sex with me while I was asleep. I assumed I must have accidentally stuck my cock in her pussy while the two of us were asleep, and I couldn’t let her wake up and find me like this. I slowly began to withdraw my cock from her pussy – it felt like a tight sheath wrapped around my dick.

Aunt Alice’s body was warm, and she smelled so good; I was careful not to inhale and breathe too heavily while I extricated myself. I moved slowly, withdrawing my erect penis from her pussy. It didn’t surprise me that I had morning wood.

I had to stand a few feet away from the toilet in the morning just to go pee because I woke up hard every morning. I noticed that it was light outside the window as I pulled myself out of my aunt’s wet ‘fanny’, and I was almost free; just the tip of my dick was still inside. I was relieved that I was going to get away with it – she’d be none the wiser. I felt a bit ashamed of what I must have done while I was asleep, but it was definitely an accident, and I simply wanted to ensure that my aunt didn’t freak out and think I had taken advantage of it.

“Oi, I rather fancy a cocktail in the morning,” my aunt sounded disappointed as I slipped almost completely out of her pussy. I hadn’t expected her to notice; she had been snoring lightly, and I panicked.

“I am sorry, Aunt Alice; I don’t know what happened,” I apologized frantically.

“You were sleeping soundly in my bed with that great erection of yours. It looked quite a bit more appetizing than the Chipolata my date had,” she explained. I had no idea what a Chipolata was, but I assumed it was a tiny dick. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I slid in next to you. I thought to bring you back to your mum in the morning; Sheridan agreed it would be fine if you spent the night. Why are you so worried? I am on the pill if that’s your concern.”

“Did we have sex?” I asked, my penis was still two inches inside my aunt’s pussy.

“I’ve asked men the same question when they came too quickly,” my aunt smiled at me and slid back on my cock. “I should say that we are still having it, aren’t we?”

“You don’t mind?” I asked as my eyes grew wide.

My aunt turned her head to face me and pressed her big breasts into my chest. “Do I look like I mind, Dalton? I think I should be asking that same question of you. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you. I laid down next to you, and you snuggled in close, held me tight, and sniffed my hair like I was some desirable, sexy tart - made me feel quite loved. It made me feel sexy and wanted. I didn’t wriggle onto your cock last night, but waking up with it buried inside me was a bit of a thrill.”

“Did I cum inside of you?” I said, unsure if I should withdraw my cock, or plunge it back into her.

“I am not sure, do you normally stay hard after you shoot your load?” she gripped my cock with her pussy twice, squeezing her pussy lips around it tightly.

“I’ve never had sex before,” I said.

“Caw, a lad your age? As handsome as you are? With a cock like yours? Now you are having me on,” Aunt Alice stroked my hair, and slid on top of me, rolling me back on my shoulders. I looked down and saw her pussy was completely bald. She smiled at me, unaware of why I was looking at my cock buried in her pussy. “Do you fancy cumming inside your Auntie? Or would it be weird for you?”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I don’t think I had to say anything because she began to rhythmically fuck me, slowly moving up and down my cock as if she was painting it with her pussy. She stopped mid-pump and squeezed my cock again with her pussy. “Did you shag my daughters last night?”

“No, not at all,” I assured her.

“Did they try to jump your bones?” she asked as if she expected the answer to be yes.

“Um...” I stammered.

“Right, sorry, I am nattering on; we can talk about the girls after you get a proper nut. I’m just surprised you held out this long. If you were truly a virgin, I would have made you shoot your load by now; unless you prefer boys?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” I assured her.

“I like men who don’t cum in the first thirty seconds,” My Aunt brazenly assured me as she lowered her face to mine, coming close enough to breathe into my ear. I tried to kiss her on the mouth, but she stopped me. “I’ve no problem with a peck, and I love to have sweet nothings blown in my ears, but I am not going to snog with you like a high schooler, Dalton.”

I got the impression that meant she wasn’t going to kiss me. “You don’t want my morning breath anyway. It smells like I’ve been smoking a roasted turd,” she assured me. I could smell a little vodka and cigarettes on her breath, but it wasn’t bad at all – it was intoxicating.

My aunt rode my cock, gliding up the entire length all the way to my balls, and then back up again – stopping just before the tip of my cock slipped out. We fucked like that for what felt like five minutes before she pushed down on my chest and asked, “Do you mind bending me over and having taking a poke at me from behind?” she asked, already sliding off my dick and arranging herself bent over the bed.

I slid off the bed; my pecker was still hard and floppy, soaked in my aunt’s pussy juices. “This is the most action I’ve gotten since I came to America. My date was shite last night. He was all thumbs and left feet on the dance floor. I’m kind of wishing I stayed home and let you babysit me,” she joked as she bent over without any modesty and let me see her big beautiful asshole and wet pussy. Unlike her daughters, tiny, tight, hair covered pussies, My Aunt’s folds and flaps reminded me of a sexy Arby’s roast beef sandwich. It had a purple and orange hue to it – like it had been bruised up and was ready for more action.

I wasn’t sure what to do as I stared into her double barrel holes and took a mental snapshot.

“If you’d rather stick it into my arse, just know that I’ve not had my morning pooh,” she warned as she guided me, wiggled her bum, and offered it to me.

“Where do you want me to put it?” I asked.

“I am not picky, Dalton. Just choose a hole and fill it please. I feel daft waiting like this, like you are going to give me the paddle. I noticed you moved some of my paddles last night, I take it the girls gave you trouble?”

I slid my dick into her pussy, deeply.

“Yes, I had to spank them,” I exhaled, bending over her, trying to get a sniff of her hairspray.

“Caw, hopefully you spanked them a bit harder than you fuck,” she backed into my cock and encouraged me to be more aggressive. “I am not a porcelain doll. You don’t have to pull my hair and choke me out, but make me feel it, please.”

My aunt coaxed me playfully into fucking her roughly – as roughly as I could manage. “That’s it, Dalton! Yes, smack my arse, go on! Give me a proper spank!”

I smacked my aunt’s ass while I humped her, and she liked it – which confused me. My aunt snickered and told me encouragingly that I was getting there. Once I started to get into the groove of things, I began to slap her ass cheeks every three or four times that I drove my cock in and out of her. “Go on, take me! Let me have all of it, pound my pussy, punish it – go ahead, dog me out, raw!”

She was getting less wet, and my dick was sticking to the inside of her pussy, I could pull some of the inside flaps of her pussy out of her body as I withdrew my dick before plunging it back in. “You naughty slag, I want that fat cunny of yours! I am going to bugger you up your arse,” I said in a faux British accent.

Aunt Alice became wet and bent over the bed, pressing her face into the covers. “Yes, yes, Dalton, fuck my fat cunny,” she said. “Take all of me, give it to me, make me feel it,” she yelled loud enough that she would have surely woken up her entire family. She grabbed her pillows and squeezed them tightly as if she was cumming.

“Caw, I am going to have a proper spunk ... in your quim,” I warned, as I came inside my aunt – pressing my body into her ass cheeks as hard as I could.

She looked over her shoulder after I came with a big smile on her face. “Your British accent is proper shite, were you meaning to make me laugh?”

“Yes,” I lied, my cock was still buried deep in my Aunt’s pussy – balsa all the way to her puffy cunt lips.

“You are lucky you are a cute one and you’ve a delicious-looking dick, Dalton. If we shag again, please don’t try to sound British,” she slid off of me and admired my flaccid cock. “Ooh, you’ve a nice one though, I may be able to handle your Spike Dixon impression.”

“Spike Dixon?”

“He’s a comedian from Hi-De-Hi; it’s a British comedy,” she said as she licked my cock, cleaning her juices off of it, taking the entire length of it fully into her mouth, and looking up at me with her pretty blue eyes to assess whether I was impressed or not.

“Can my daughters take an entire cock to the balls in their mouth in one go?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said.

“I believed you when you said that you didn’t shag them but are you saying they didn’t give you a little head last night?” she seemed skeptical as she released my cock, and licked her lips like the taste of herself was delicious.

“They offered, but I didn’t think it was proper, er ... um ... that it was okay to do it,” I corrected.

“It’s okay, I speak American. You don’t have to try to talk like you are from Brittain for me to understand,” she joked. “Did you not fancy them? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I just didn’t think you wanted me to take advantage of them,” I said.

“I wouldn’t think of it as taking advantage. My daughters love sucking cock almost as much as I do. I know that, and I’d rather they suck a cock than ride one, because I can’t afford another mouth to feed. I am just a little surprised is all. I checked on them when I got home, and they were happily snogging off, no nightgowns or dog collars around their necks. I assumed you got up to something kinky with them is all.”

My aunt didn’t seem upset or overly concerned about it – more like she was testing me to see if I was going to tell her I had done something with her daughters. Aunt Alice didn’t sound like she WANTED me to fuck them, but she also didn’t sound like she would have been entirely shocked if I had.

“We’ll find out at breakfast,” she said as she stood up and wiped her pussy with a napkin. “I see one of my favorite dildos was moved and put back,” she sniffed it and said that it was definitely used.

“Yes, I caught them playing with it, and paddled their arses, I mean asses, and then later I made them masturbate in the kitchen with it – as a punishment,” I admitted.

“You did what?” she was shocked and aghast. “in front of Archie?”

I realized that I may have crossed a line, but I decided that the girls would probably tell her what happened. “Yes, he said that he’s caught them before, so I didn’t think it would be a problem?”

“It’s not like your house over here,” she replied. I assumed she thought things were much wilder at my house – or perhaps she knew the reality of things at my house. “Wasn’t a paddle on the arse sufficient for playing with themselves?”

So many things had happened last night that I couldn’t explain the chain of events quickly enough. I blushed and started to get dressed but my aunt remained naked, and she expected an answer.

“I let the girls pretend to be puppies last night, and Mister Archie was my helper – so one of the contests was to play musical cunnies ... they had to take turns sitting down on the dildo while singing Chick, Chick Chicken and flapping their arms.”

“Mister Archie?” my aunt’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she tried on that name. “Musical cunnies and chick, chick, chicken, it sounds like these were Archie’s ideas then?”

It was impossible to tell if my aunt was livid, angry, disappointed, or amused – she could have been all of them. She remained calm as she questioned me on what my motivations were for allowing it.

“I was the one in charge; it was my responsibility. He’s the one who called it musical cunnies, and I told the girls to do a chicken dance for the Pizza guy– they were the ones who added the nursery rhyme. I just made them keep doing it during the contests.”

“My girls ate Pizza?” Aunt Alice’s eyes flicked up at me angrily – there was no mistaking whether or not she approved of that. “It sounds like you let them run wild last night?”

“No, they had to earn it. It’s a complicated story, but I wasn’t going to eat pizza and not let the girls have any,” I said.

“I am not mad at you, Dalton. I didn’t go over what the girls can and cannot eat, but I assumed because you are my sister’s son that you’d know that girls can’t be indulged with pizza?” Aunt Alice shook her head in confusion.

She led me into the kitchen and remained completely naked. I apologized but she didn’t acknowledge what I said. My aunt put on a white apron, her tits and ass still hung out on full display.

“Did you let them have half a box of digestives as well?” she asked as she opened the box of cookies on the counter and examined them.

“Yes, but only as treats when they won a little contest.”

“What kind of contests did you have?” Alice scrunched her nose disapprovingly.

“It’s going to sound weird,” I said, and started to explain how things unfolded. My aunt listened while she made what she called a proper British breakfast. I didn’t like the idea of having a can of beans and baked tomatoes for breakfast, but I didn’t complain or ask for cereal. I simply sat at the table, rewinding to after she left on her date and watching my aunt’s cute ass any time she bent deeply at the waist to get something out of the cupboard or put it in the oven.

I was half-way through telling my Aunt the part of the story where Mister Johnson paid for the pizza when Betty and Veronica walked into the kitchen together. They were naked and still had their dog collars on. Their makeup and hair was done perfectly, but they hadn’t bothered with clothes.

“Nice of you two lazy sods to finally wake up and join me in the kitchen; lot of help you are,” my aunt chided them; before asking “Where is my toothbrush?”

“Mister Dalton told you about that, did he?” the girls looked very guilty and nervous that their mother was about to punish them again for not confessing immediately to what they had done the night before.

“Aye, from what I understand, you were supposed to have them in your bums and present them bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to confess you have been shagging off with your brother and my toothbrush for how long now?”

“Since before we go to America, Mum,” Betty admitted with a pout. She offered to help with the breakfast.

“Once again, you two lazy cows managed to arrive just in the nick of time that I don’t need you help to make breakfast. Don’t change the subject or play the part of the innocent. Tell me straight - You’ve put the bristle end of my brush up your dirty pooh holes and not told me about it? All this time?”

“Yes, Mum, but we washed it after we finished,” Betty and Veronica stood completely naked in front of their mum as she questioned them. They looked like they were mortified and had been caught red-handed while stealing from a store.

“Why didn’t you use your own brushes to wank with?” Alice seethed and stared them down. The girls looked at me and then back at their mother. “He’s already told me his part of this, but I want to hear it from you lot, not that I’ll believe you as far as I can toss you two wankers.”

“We did use our own as well, one in our cunnie, and one to fiddle our bean at the same time,” Veronica admitted.

“I heard you prefer them up your bum,” Alice scolded Veronica.

“That’s Betty, she’s the one who likes it up the arse, but we shouldn’t have used your brush, and we apologize. Did Mister Dalton tell you we were punished?”

“Oh, Aye, you were really punished so hard! I feel for you girls,” Alice scoffed. I noticed her tone sounded just like Archie when he mocked the girls – it was obviously where he picked it up from. “As I hear it told, Veronica got a quick four pops on the bottom, one on the fanny, and then you tricked Mister Dalton into letting you go pooh, only that’s when you snuck off to do the deed in the bathroom. Once you were caught frigging yourselves, you had to flash some handsome lad that you gushed for and walk about wanking off with the brushes, which is what you wanted to do anyway, is that about it?”

“Yes, Mum,” Betty and Veronica admitted with a frown – clearly not proud of themselves, blushing.

“You ate pizza, even though you know how I feel about indulging you two and then half a tin of my favorite biscuits. Do you think they even sell these over here in America?” she waved the cookies at the girls angrily.

“No, Mum,” they answered.

“Mister Dalton also told me that you horny little sluts tried to suck him off at the end of the night, is that right?”

“We heard you having a go with him this morning,” Veronica huffed and harumphed angrily. She was willing to eat crow about everything else, but she decided to stand up to her mother over the double standard there.

“What I do in the privacy of my room is none of your business, you nosy little gossips,” Alice didn’t bat an eye. “I am not sure how I feel about Mister Dalton watching the two of you because it sounds like you’ve got him wrapped around your dirty little fingers. I’ve half a mind to give you two peachy spunk-magnets the forty swats that you earned last night after breakfast but, I’ve to run Mister Dalton back to his house.”

“We’re sorry, Mum! Whatever you decide is best,” they agreed demurely – clearly willing to accept any punishment that their mother saw fit.

“Go and wake your brother politely, and ask him if he wants his tea,” she instructed. “I understand last night he watched as the two of you had a full-on wank to the point of orgasm?”

“Yes, Mum,” Veronica nodded and looked at the ground.

“That was probably a proper thrill for you two?” My aunt asked.

“No mum, at first Mister Dalton used the brushes on us, and we couldn’t help ourselves,” Betty admitted – throwing me under the bus. Alice glared at me, and then back at them.

“You didn’t enjoy getting wanked while eating pizza off the floor?” Alice asked skeptically.

“I enjoyed it, yeah, obviously, but it wasn’t my idea to do it, and Archie could have left at any time,” Betty offered defensively with a pout.

“I thought it was Mister Archie now?” my aunt asked.

“If he wants it to be, we’ve no problem with that,” Betty and Veronica both agreed.

“Caw, you’ve no problem showing respect to your brother? I am so glad that you don’t mind because it was not up to you. I am just trying to understand what happened last night while I was trying to have an adult evening away from you whinging twats for a night without worrying that you’d burn the house down or throw an orgy in the living room. Go and collect Mister Archie, one of you will make his bed while he uses the loo, and the other will make his tea. I don’t care which, but if I catch either of you wanking off I won’t hesitate to give you forty on the arse, and twenty more on the quim – since you’ve graduated to pussy spanks.”

“We didn’t graduate to it; they just did it, Mum,” Veronica acknowledged her mother’s instructions, didn’t argue any further, and the two of them quickly disappeared – leaving me alone with Alice.

She poured some warm juice for me. It tasted terrible – not like the standard orange juice that I was used to. I didn’t ask what it was, but I assumed it was something British. The name on the juice box was “Pixie Juice” and the word “Satsuma” was written across it.

“I have more bad news for you, Mister Dalton,” My Aunt said. I half expected her to say that this was all a colossal put-on and that the girls were pretending to be naughty sluts like some sort of Candid Camera prank show.

My cousins’ way of thinking and living seemed so surreal that I believed it was possible they were kidding about the idea that the girls really saw sucking dick as a way to give a friendly good night, and that they didn’t really get spanked and teased regularly.

It would be an awfully far stretch, though, that they’d go to that length just to blow my mind - the simple fact was that what seemed like an outrageous fantasy to me - was a reality to my cousins. As thrilling as it was to think cute girls would WANT to be naked and crawl around like puppies showing off their quims and bums - it was a simple mundane reality to Archie and his sisters.

“I’m having a bit of a difficult financial time, and I can’t exactly pay you for last night – not in anything but sweaty quim and a hassle. I wouldn’t blame you if you are angry – but can we keep this between us? Not even your mum must know,” she said.

I assured her that I could keep a secret – and I was curious.

“I had expected to come home with a bit of cash last night. My date wasn’t exactly someone I would have chosen. He was a punter, and I am a prossy – a friend of mine set me up to make $150 American dollars and all I had to do was show some old geezer a night out on the town. I didn’t expect him to get it up when I saw him – and he was rank. I didn’t mind that so much, but he stiffed me and not in a good way.”

My aunt’s accent was much thicker than her daughters, but I worked out that she was a prostitute and that the guy she was supposed to have sex with didn’t pay her from the context.

“I liked having a tumble with you this morning, but the girls are too much for you to handle. Would you really want to babysit these two little turd wranglers after the night you had, anyway?”

“Wait, I can’t babysit anymore?” I asked – I was hurt and concerned. I felt like I had done my best, and my aunt was being unfair and hasty.

“I don’t think you babysat them at all last night, Dalton. You let them walk all over you, and you are too nice. Your mum warned me that you would probably not be right for this, but I bet her that you would,” she sounded disappointed.

I was surprised that my Aunt Alice would make a bet like that – I barely knew her and had only briefly met her when she first arrived in America. Veronica returned with a determined look on her face, she started boiling a kettle on the stove.

“Why is your toothbrush not up your arse like I told you?” I asked angrily.

“I ... I couldn’t find it this morning, and I...” Veronica was clearly making excuses.

“Couldn’t find it, or didn’t look for it? It’s right where you two sluts left them,” I cut her off mid-sentence and pointed to the kitchen sink where I washed them. “You were told to tell your mum what you did with her brush, and have it stuck up your arse so you wouldn’t forget, but you didn’t because you thought you could walk all over me. Go and stick it up your bum like I told you!”

Veronica glanced at her mother as if seeking her permission or guidance on whether to do as she was told. “Don’t look at your mother, I told you what to do -and you were told to mind me.”

Veronica stuck the brush in her mouth and licked it and then put it in her butt. I waited for her to get it in her ass before telling her that I expected the bristle end to go up her bum.

“Take it out, do it again, this will remind you what a pain in the arse you are for your mum, mister Archie, and me. I may not get to babysit you again, but I am not going to leave her with your mum thinking I was soft on you,” I said – this time I didn’t try to sound British. I simply spoke the British words in an American, and they flowed much more naturally.

My aunt didn’t concede that my performance was convincing, but she also didn’t undermine me. When Betty joined us, I did the same thing. “You took your sweet time making up your brother’s bed, go and get your bum stuffed with a toothbrush, bristle end first.”

“You should have made her put it in wrong way first, like I did,” Veronica laughed playfully.

“Do you see me laughing this morning? I was told I may not get to babysit you lot again, and I am not happy about it,” I said.

“Mum, we can’t have Mister Dalton babysit us?” Betty asked as she plunged the bristle end of the brush into her ass without licking it to make it easier to slide in first. Her pretty blue eyes widened when she popped it in, but she barely seemed moved by it.

“I can’t afford to pay him, and I am afraid he let you two walk over him, I am also not sure how Mister Archie felt about last night. We’ll see how your brother feels this morning,” Aunt Alice said.

“Feels about it?” Betty asked as she set the table, placing silverware and plates for three.

“Aye, watching you two motor your quims to orgasm, or did you forget?” Alice said.

Archie’s flush punctuated the conversation and abruptly halted the exchange between the women. He leisurely joined us, fully dressed. “I keep hearing my name, what did I do wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, Mister Archie,” his mom said teasingly.

“Oh, you heard about that, did you? Mister Dalton asked me to be his helper last night. It was his idea that the girls call me Mister Archie. You can have a laugh about it if you want,” Archie told his mother as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

“I am just curious how you felt about your sisters calling you Mister Archie. You have never let on that you’d go for something like that,” Alice asked her son.

“As long as it’s not done for a laugh like you are doing to take the piss, then I’m okay with it, but not around my mates or at school,” he said.

“I was made to call all the men in my family Mister, so I think it’s proper, but I’ve never wanted you to feel uncomfortable with it, Mister Archie. Do you mind if I call you that as well? Or will it make you feel like I am patronizing you?” his mother asked.

“Not all the time,” Archie decided as he complained about his tea not being ready.

“Sorry, your tea is steeping; it’s the Twining’s; it’s all we had,” Veronica brought over his cup. “How do you want it?”

“With a bloody curtsy, milk, and some sugar,” Archie told his sister sarcastically.

“The curtsy I can do,” His mother curtsied playfully, lifting the apron slightly on the sides as she bent her knee in a curtsy, and then she playfully squeezed her bare tits still hanging out of her apron. “But, the only milk in the house would come out of these fun bags, and they dried up years ago. I’m afraid we’ll have to do without milk for our tea until I can make some more money and get down to the shops.”

Despite the salacious joke, no one even raised an eyebrow when my aunt joked about her tits giving milk or making money. I got the impression everyone was comfortable with HOW their mother made money as well – it shocked ME that the joke hadn’t shocked them.

“Why did we leave Surrey? The girls could milk an actual cow, and we’d have all the milk we needed,” Archie asked in consternation.

“I am a dumb slag who thought the grass would be greener, Mister Archie,” my aunt joked. She didn’t talk submissively to her son, and her self-effacing comments were more like comedic jests, so I didn’t take her very seriously.

“Green grass with cow shite in it,” Archie observed bluntly.

“Aye, I’ve stepped in it enough to know that green grass isn’t all it’s cracked up to be; I am sorry you’ll have to do without milk this morning, Archie,” she smiled lovingly at her son – clearly doting on him.

“Oi, what happened to calling me Mister Archie?” he teased as she brought him a plate of food.

There was something round, black, and burnt on the plate that looked like a hockey puck soaked in motor oil—I was later told it was “black pudding,” which didn’t help. Next to it sat a sad heap of flavorless beans, the kind you’d expect to see in a budget prison meal, right alongside a cooked tomato that looked like it had given up on life mid-fry. The rest was a grease-soaked pile of eggs, rubbery bacon that barely counted as bacon, and a sausage that looked suspiciously pale like it had never seen authentic seasoning in its life.

“You said you didn’t mind being called Mister Archie as long as it wasn’t all the time,” she teased him as she placed the plate in front of him.

“That was before you told me that I’d have to do without milk for my tea,” Archie joked with a grin.

“You sound like your grandfather sometimes,” she laughed and brought me a plate full of the awful breakfast as well. “Next, you’ll want me to address you as Sir?” she offered a sassy grin.

“Is it too much for you to set a proper example for these two cock polishers?” Archie said crassly – it was unexpected, and I could tell it wasn’t usual because his mother and sisters looked shocked. He had spoken like that to Betty and Veronica when his mother wasn’t home, but I got the impression he usually didn’t take that tone with his mother.

“Point taken, Sir, we’ve never been big on formalities here; it’s just the four of us, but I am not above showing a little respect if you’ll show me the same?” she asked as she served herself a plate of food and joined us – leaving the girls to get their own.

“What would you have me do, Mum?” Archie asked.

“Just don’t talk to me like your sisters, for starters,” she said. “You can talk down to those lazy munters all day long, but I’d rather you not compare me to a cock polisher, especially when we’ve company,” she said as she took a bite of her food.

The girls had a plate of beans, eggs, and black pudding. “Mum, how are we meant to sit with the toothbrushes in our bums?” Betty interrupted politely.

“Ask Mister Dalton; he’s the one that told you to pack your arses with my brush. I don’t have the money for a new one, so I am expecting you to scrub your foulness off it clean as a whistle before I brush my teeth,” she snickered.

I instructed the girls to sit as they had the night before.

“Like a puppy?” Betty asked incredulously.

“I am looking forward to this,” Alice seemed pleasantly amused rather than horrified that I expected her daughters to eat like dogs on their hands and knees. She seemed like the type of woman who could not only take a joke, but who could also find humor in the absurd. “I thought you two liked to eat like puppies?”

“Can we eat like puppies then?” Betty asked her mother’s permission.

“I don’t allow you to sit at the table when you are naked anyway, so I don’t see what the big deal is?” Alice shrugged as the girls stood there holding their plates with silverware. “If you are trying to shock me, you won’t succeed. I’ve no concern for how you eat as long as you keep your drippy quims and sweaty holes off my seats.

The girls set their plates and silverware down at the table and knelt at our feet. I was surprised that the family really did eat this way.

“That’s not how you ate last night,” Archie wiped his mouth and corrected them. “You were on your hands and knees like dogs and we hand-fed you,” he said. “You lazy gobblers got to chomp down on pizza while Mister Dalton and I held it out for you to have a bite. Did you tell Mum that?”

“Yes, I heard all about it,” Alice said as she ate her food. “I hope you girls enjoyed it because it will be your last for a while,” she announced. “I was less concerned that the girls had a nibble of pizza, than I was when I heard about the floor show they put on for you?”

“The enemas?” he asked innocently enough – like it was not a big deal to bring up to his mother.

My aunt spat out her tea, clearly surprised. “I didn’t hear about any enemas,” she admitted, glaring at me and then the girls.

“We washed out their dirty bums with the garden hose,” Archie admitted like it was not a big deal.

“Shite and all?” my aunt was shocked, disgusted, and dismayed – quite uncomfortable.

“No, just a little brown water sprayed out the first time,” Archie explained like he was a seasoned veteran at this. “We washed them all over – hair, face, arse, everywhere – like puppies.”

“Did you put the hoses up their arses or just up to their bums?” my aunt asked, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“All the way in, but Mister Dalton used a squirt gun, and the nozzle wasn’t that much bigger than the toothbrush,” he explained. I could tell that Archie was growing increasingly uncomfortable being put on the spot.

“If you were just playing outside in the backyard, I’ve no problem with it, but you could get girl shite all over yourself if one of them backflows on you,” My Aunt decided before asking the girls if they had fun playing at being a puppy.

“It was fun, and we didn’t mind the enemas, but Cousin Janis gets a proper enema nightly - she has to hold it a full five minutes! In the bath, not out in the yard!” Betty said – I wasn’t sure if she was trying to make it sound like what we did wasn’t that big of a deal or asking to do the same.

“She does, does she?” my aunt looked at me skeptically. “I’ve heard Janis is a handful. She’s old enough to be out on her own, but she’s still living under your mum and dad’s roof,” she said.

I felt uncomfortable with my lies because my aunt clearly talked to my mother and would find out I had fibbed. I was simply too cowardly to correct them. “Aye, she’s a handful,” I said – still didn’t sound right when I said ‘aye.’

“Does your sister address you as Mister Dalton or Sir at home?” My aunt looked me squarely in the eye as she asked – was this a test? Did she know the truth, and she just wanted to see if I’d continue the lie?

“When she wants something,” I lied, glancing down at the flavorless beans on my plate and pushing them around.

“What about Sheridan?” my aunt asked. I almost didn’t connect the name with that of my mother. It was such an absurd idea that my mother would call me Sir at home.

“We aren’t big on formalities,” I countered – the same excuse that my aunt gave for not doing it in her own home.

“Mister Archie has the right of it, the main reason for my girls being disobedient, sneaky twats is that I’ve failed to set a proper example or have much of a male role model in their lives,” my aunt looked defeated, and a bit flummoxed.

“It’s like Saint Edward said, you can discipline girls and set all the examples you want, but in the end, you need to keep giving them more, because it doesn’t do any good,” I paraphrased my cousins explanation from the night before. “You can’t really blame yourself; the girls were always going to be horny little knob goblins that like to get away with whatever they can.”

“Saint Edward the Confessor said that did he?” My aunt found my words amusing and took a sip of her tea. “Oi, disgusting without milk,” she frowned.

“He didn’t say it in scripture, but I believe that was his message – girls are nothing but trouble, and they don’t deserve modesty – there isn’t much you can do about it. You can paddle their arses until they see stars, but they’ll still be up to no good the next day,” I said.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” My Aunt mused, seemingly relieved. “I just thought I was a crap mum, but girls will be girls – so there is that,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, well, you are a woman, so you wouldn’t know what is best for the girls, would you?” I asked. I regretted saying it as soon as the words exited my mouth. I’d bought so heavily into the ideas that the girls had presented to me about men being superior to women that I had started to believe it. I instantly apologized and said that I didn’t mean it.

“No, you have a right to say that - I should do the opposite of what I think is best because my instincts are usually wrong, Mister Dalton. I’ve just not had anyone talk to me like that in a while. Your mum was wrong about you – she told me you were a bit of a softie.”

“You said I shouldn’t continue to babysit the girls, so I think that’s one decision you made that is wrong,” I added.

“I can’t pay you, and you’d have to babysit Mister Archie as well, not just the girls,” my aunt clarified.

“Mister Archie can look after himself; I don’t think he needs my supervision, and you can pay me the way you did this morning.”

The girls and Archie grinned – they all heard their mother’s screams of passion in the bedroom.

“You lot heard that, did you?” My aunt said to her kids. “That was hardly a payment for you, Sir. I enjoy a good tumble – you can stop by anytime you want to shag – you don’t have to spend your Friday or Saturday here with these tarty cows to have a little piece of your Aunt Alice if that’s what you want.”

I pushed the beans around awkwardly on my plate and blushed. No one in the family seemed shocked by their mother’s bold statements – it was more like playful amusement by the offer of sex. I could imagine my brother and I picking our jaws off the ground if our mother had just offered to fuck Archie anytime he wanted.

“You seem surprised? I’ve always been open and honest about my sexuality with the girls – they are horny little sluts – so it’s not like they don’t know one end of a cock from the other – and what hole to stick it in to make a baby. I’d rather you not let them play with themselves when you babysit. I’d also ask that you not indulge them with my biscuits, pizza, ice cream, or sweets – no matter how much they butter you up.”

I was elated that I could continue to babysit my cousins and agreed to her terms quickly – without giving it any thought.

“Do you not like the beans?” she asked.

I didn’t like ANY of the food – I had barely eaten it. I politely pretended that I wasn’t hungry.

“When we see your aunt later, I’ll ask if she’s kept you skinny by not feeding you a proper English breakfast? Scrape what you didn’t eat into the girls’ plates then, and I’ll get dressed and take you home.”

I was surprised that the girls were thrilled when I scraped my uneaten food onto their plates. “Thank you, Mister Dalton!” they said, as they asked for my unfinished juice.

“Nice try, I’ll have that,” my aunt took my unfinished cup. “I thought you cheeky monkeys were going to eat like dogs, hands and knees, no silverware, mouths only,” she observed.

“Do you mind if we do, we might get it all over the floor, mum” Betty said.

“You’ll have to scrub it down anyway, as long as you mind yourselves and Mister Archie doesn’t mind, I don’t care if you have a laugh. I was hoping to see you both with your faces covered in beans and blood sausages.”

Betty eagerly got on her hands and knees, bent low and stuck her face down in her plate, trying to eat the food that I had just piled on it. My aunt chuckled and asked Veronica why she wasn’t giving it a go.

“You’ll laugh at us, and we’re not competing for anything – Betty’s got to make me a ribbon for best puppy to wear in my hair,” Veronica pouted.

“Of course, I’d laugh at you two silly minges; you’ve no modesty, and you aren’t meant to have any – you can’t be number one puppy if you won’t eat like one – so have at it.”

“Yes, Mum!” Veronica eagerly joined her sister, tearing at the black sausage while growling playfully.

“Did you and my mum play games like that when you were growing up?” I asked as I watched the pretty young girls scarf down the food – face first, mouths only.

“No, girls would never have never been allowed to play at the table,” my aunt became wistful – thinking back on how she was raised. I was definitely curious to hear about it. “Did Sheridan not tell you much of how she was raised?”

“Not really, no,” I admitted – “Do you have any burning desire to act like a puppy at the table?” I asked – hoping to see my aunt humiliate herself like her daughters.

“No, I’ve no wish to be a puppy; I am an old dog, past her prime,” my aunt sighed. She was a beautiful woman as far as I was concerned – mature, sexy, and confident. I was surprised that she even considered my question.

“Archie, if I take your cousin home, are you fine then to watch the girls? You can play outside, but only after they clean up every dropped morsel from the floor and wash their faces and hair properly. I don’t mean with the garden hose. I mean with the shower – fully.”

“You said you would call me Mister Archie,” he shrugged his only concern – pouting.

“It’s going to take a bit to get used to that, but you are right. I’d also ask that you not allow your sisters to masturbate – no contests to see who has the daintiest wank or squeakiest fart, or any of that- and no inviting the neighbor over to watch them either. I don’t trust Mister Johnson.”

The real reason you don’t want to call me Mister Archie is ‘cause you don’t fucking respect me,” Archie scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “You say it like it’s a joke like I’m one of these daft girls with my bum up in the air wagging it like a dog’s tail.”

The girls looked over their shoulders, faces dripping with food, and listened.

He leaned in, voice dripping with irritation. “You don’t see me as someone worth respecting, do you? I don’t want you to say it if you are going to treat me like a daft boy.”

“That’s fair, Sir. You are quite right – I am just used to thinking of you as my boy. You are growing into a man, and I’ll do a better job of it, Mister Archie.”

“You say that, but you talk down to me when you are leaving like I am a bloody fool. How am I to motivate the girls if I can’t allow them to wank off or grade their performances?”

“You have a fair point, but what great need is there to motivate two silly twats?” my aunt countered. “You tell them to clean the floor and your room, and if they doddle or whinge about it, then I’ll paddle them when I am back. If you have a mind to use one of the paddles on the wall, and they deserve it – I am not opposed to you giving them a proper spanking – but I’d prefer you wait until I can teach you how to wield one properly so you don’t end up hurting them.”

“Isn’t the idea of a spanking to make it hurt?” he asked.

“Yeah, in the right way, on a female body part that gets our attention – stings, but not on the kidney or around certain parts of the back. I was told you spanked your sisters on the quim last night.”

“Not hard, and nothing I hadn’t seen you do before,” Archie replied.

“if you saw me do it before, then it definitely hurt when I spanked your sisters’ cunnies,” My Aunt replied confidently. “I can’t recollect doing that since we got to America. I’ve never made a secret of paddling your sisters – you are always welcome to watch. I am just surprised that suddenly, you have this great desire to discipline them and watch them fiddle their beans. You always come to me with terror in your eyes when you catch them going at it in their rooms.”

“Yeah, because they aren’t supposed to do it – but if they are willing to earn it, then I’d rather that than the threat of a paddle. I know for a fact Veronica enjoyed it enough to drip all over the carpet when Mister Dalton was giving her a bum roasting.”

“Bum roasting,” My Aunt found the crass term amusing. “Where did you hear that?”

“I didn’t, I just made it up,” Archie admitted.

“Caw, well, some girls do like a good bum roasting, I’ll give you that,” my aunt smirked, I think she was developing a newfound respect for her son. “Can you hold off then on allowing the girls to have a proper wank to full orgasm until I get home from your aunt’s house? I’d like a bit of time to think about this.”

“What’s the harm? I’ve seen them diddle themselves already; we all know they do it, and they are just going to try to stroke themselves off when our backs are turned. We’d have clean toothbrushes if we had allowed them to pleasure themselves out in the open – where I can have a laugh.”

“I hadn’t thought about that – your sisters sunk your toothbrush into their gashes, didn’t they? That’s very naughty,” she finally looked down at the girls, who were staring back up at her with dirty faces – covered in bean juice – blinking innocently and blushing.