"Some of them don't Erik," Barbara said, "but some of them do. A real test is that those who do it don't need to talk about doing it. Now, you, Erik, I bet if you were making it with some girl, you wouldn't go blabbing to your friends. It'd be such a great thrill, keeping the secret inside you, that you'd savor it, waiting for the next time you and your… your girlfriend got together."

Erik was positive his aunt's hand had moved higher on his leg. She had even scooted her chair closer to his so she could get a better grip on him, and her fingers were already touching the frayed edges of his pants legs.

The teen swallowed hard and struggled for something to say, but he was speechless. The tightness that seemed to be gripping him about his balls, taking the whole crinkly fleshed ballsac with its just-forming pubic hairs and pulling the whole thing up tight against the base of his broad cockroot.

"Now the first thing you've got to learn, Erik," Barbara said, almost crooning in her determination to lull the teen into an acceptance of her advances, "is not to be shy around girls. You see, most girls will want to touch you, and feel your skin. Well, like I'm doing right now. Can you feel my hand on your leg, dear? Feel how gentle and soothing it is?"

"Oh, yeah, Auntie Barbara," Erik said, trying to squirm around on his chair, hoping the bulge of his cock wasn't too obvious to her as he tried to will it down, to force it to shrink or take on a more comfortable, less cramped angle there inside his tight cut-off pants.

"And feel this, dear," she said, her fingers slipping just inside the tight cut-off fringes to stoke him much higher up on his now feverish thigh. He could feel his sweat rolling down from his armpits along his sides, as well as gathering up around his balls to make them moist and damp.