(Spoiled) Give Your Aunt Some Sugar


                                            "What a waste of time."

                                            >Nobody bothers to hear your grumbling as you idly tap away at your phone, leaning against the pristine crown molding adorning the walls of your aunt's penthouse suite, the sprawling front room covered in tacky, dollar store decorations as a horrendously out-of-tune birthday song dies down.

                                            >You roll your eyes to yourself as your extended family cheers, the birthday girl in question blowing out the candles on a cake far too expensive for your tastes, grubby hands shuffling plates and forks around immediately afterwards.

                                            >For a woman named Spoiled, she looks surprisingly humbled at the display of attention, blushing and nodding at the compliments thrown her way.

                                            >"Anon!" your mother calls out from the table. "Quit hiding over there and come have some cake!"

                                            >Scoffing, you pocket your device and remove yourself from the wall, strolling over and patiently biding your time till the initial onslaught of party attendees clears out before taking a paper plate and half-heartedly plopping a slice of sugared bread onto it.

                                            "Happy Birthday, Aunt Spoiled," you smile as best you can, the woman merely returning the affection with a blink and a nod, clearly overstimulated by the fracas not a minute prior.

                                            >Truth be told, you didn't give a shit.

                                            >You hadn't even talked to her in half a decade, only enduring the forty-mile drive to the city for the party on account of a job interview you had less than a block away tomorrow, Spoiled having agreed to let you crash here.

                                            >If it meant getting you out of your batshit insane mother's pad and into an apartment of your own sooner, so be it.

                                            >"Are you excited for tomorrow?"

                                            "Huh?" you blurt, turning your head back down to your aunt at her question.

                                            >"For your interview?" she continues with a cold, cordial smile.

                                            "Oh, right, that," you fumble. "I guess. I just have a lot on my mind right now, sorry."

                                            >Quickly scooting away from the birthday girl, you crash down on one of the ottomans accompanying the massive sofa in the center of the room, a gaggle of relatives chattering incessantly, throwing gossip and tall tales every which way but up as you stick a fork in your cake and begrudgingly begin picking at it.

                                            >Five plodding, monotonous hours of catching up with your family pass, the vein on your forehead growing more and more pronounced as the same series of questions regarding work, school and your romantic life are slung at you by people whose names you barely remembered.

                                            >6 PM rolls around, and your migraine is in full swing, the three glasses of champagne you'd downed doing little to dampen the piercing pain in your skull.

                                            >The present-opening had been the most awkward part, more than a few stink-eyes having been thrown your way as your name wasn't called out when reading who the gifts were from.

                                            >How the hell were you supposed to shop for a woman you'd lost contact with for six years, anyways?

                                            >Your mother had thankfully bought you some good will by writing your lack of an offering as a result of saving up for your own place, which, while technically not a lie, conveniently left out the five-digit nest egg you'd been building since early childhood.

                                            >Once a miser, always a miser.

                                            >You giggle to yourself at your own frugality, before a sharp rapping of nails on your shoulder rips you from thought.

                                            >"Anon, take these up to your Auntie," your mother orders you, shoving a half-dozen reddish-brown pills and a glass of water into your hands. "She's not feeling too well."

                                            "...Since when?" you manage to blurt out, eyes scanning the foyer and failing find any trace of her.

                                            >"About an hour ago. Well, get moving!" she snips at you with a wave of her hand, leaving your side afterwards for the refreshment table.

                                            >Sighing in frustration, you weave through the crowd and make your way to the stairs, ascending the stone steps to the second floor unceremoniously and spotting the open door of her bedroom at the end of the hallway as you reach the top.

                                            "Aunt Spoiled?" you call out, poking your head in the doorway, only to duck as a pillow sails clear over your head, the woman lying crumpled in a tangled web of bedsheets, makeup gone and eyes stark red.

                                            "...Aunt?" you mutter as you enter the room and close the door behind you, pulling the pillow back inside with your foot on the way as you set the medicine down on her dresser. "Aunt, are you okay?"

                                            >"Do I look like I'm okay?" she rattles at you from her impromptu nest of fabric, multiple dusty comforters no doubt fished from her closet draped over and around her as she regards you with a venomous glare. "Twenty brown-nosing assholes flood my home and act like shitty kitchen gadgets and cheap perfume are payment for trashing it, and after eight hours of putting up with them, you think I'm okay?"

                                            >You unconsciously take a step back as she shakes the blankets off of her, her intoxication becoming clear as she almost falls off the bed.

                                            >"I had ONE person I could really trust, and it turns out he's been fucking his secretary for the past two years, and then I get to find out my own flesh and blood couldn't care less," she sighs, falling over on the mattress in an unsteady wobbling. "What a joke."

                                            >And there it is.

                                            "Aunt, I-"

                                            >"Don't give me your fucking pity!" she barks at you, cheeks flushed. "I've had enough lip service for one day."

                                            >Your patience begins to wear thin as you approach the bed in irritation, Spoiled sneering at you as you grab her by the shoulder.

                                            >"What the hell are you-"

                                            "I'm trying to help you, dammit!" you interrupt testily, helping her sit up on the edge of the bed. "I didn't traipse up here with painkillers in hand so you could shriek at me!"

                                            >Your sharp tone slices through her semi-inebriated haze as she shirks, breaking eye contact as you growl to yourself and lean out from the bed, snatching the pills from the dresser.

                                            "Here," you command, dropping the tablets into her hand and offering the water soon after, her swinging mood turning to relief as she greedily downs the contents of the cup in seconds. "I'll leave you alone."

                                            >Rising from the bed, you feel fingers descend upon your shoulder and hold you in place.

                                            "What?" you spit.

                                            >"...I'm sorry," Spoiled chokes out after a moment, the words stifled as she swallows her pride. "Just... can I have your ear for a bit?"

                                            >A rumbling sigh escapes you as you crash back down on the bed, brow still furrowed as you pull your legs into a crossed position.

                                            "Well? I'm waiting," you announce, hands resting on your knees.

                                            >Spoiled collects herself before speaking again, your hard stare bearing down on her.

                                            >"I just hoped that today would've been something different," she confesses, fiddling with her pearl necklace as she undoes the clasp. "I know you're too young to get it, but the moment you've got something going for you, everyone suddenly wants to be your friend, you know?"

                                            "I know exactly what you mean," you bluntly respond, smirking at the mild confusion on her face. "I've been rolling money into a nice rainy-day fund since I was six, Aunt Spoiled."

                                            >"Really, now? Run into some shady types?"

                                            "Yep. You get your first job at some rinky-dink fast food joint, and you realize how much you could've fucked up the last ten years," you laugh. "Druggies, unwilling parents, ex-cons, all a little younger or older than me. I let my savings slip one day when I was trying to offer a shift to a coworker who had some sudden expenses, and not one day later I've got people trying to bum weed money off of me."

                                            >You aunt lets out a hearty, high-pitched laugh as her shoulders finally loosen up, grabbing a few of the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed and propping herself up on them.

                                            >"Well, color me impressed," she giggles. "You ever give 'em any?"

                                            "Fuck no!" you blurt with a smile. "Most of 'em got fired less than a month in, anyways."

                                            >To your pleasant surprise, you end up letting the next few hours drip away in conversation, you and Spoiled cathartically trading stories of various work-related incidents, the red tape and petty office drama of her real estate firm a wonderful contrast to your tales of horrible customers and colorful coworkers.

                                            >By the time your phone buzzes and interrupts your chat, a dusky orange glow is filtering through the lone window.

                                            "Hold on a second," you say, cutting off Spoiled's enthralling saga of catching two interns getting handsy in the breakroom to check your phone before letting out an annoyed grunt.

                                            "Dearest mother's worried about you," you droll with a roll of your eyes. "People are starting to leave, apparently. You wanna go say goodbye to all the toadies?"

                                            >"Will your mom get on my ass if I don't feel like it?"

                                            >You share a knowing look before snickering and rising from the bed, your aunt stumbling a bit as she nearly trips over her discarded heels.

                                            >"Thanks," she blushes as you catch her with one hand.

                                            >You play around on your phone for the better part of an hour whilst waiting for her to flush your family out of the house, until solitaire fails to keep you entertained.

                                            "Oi, Aunt?" you call as you descend the staircase, the suite empty as you take a spot on the couch, checking your email as you go.

                                            >"Bloody hell," Spoiled mutters under her breath as she finally closes the door of the foyer, half-heartedly waving to your half-uncle, thrice-removed. "I've seen zoo animals with more tact."

                                            >You bite your tongue as she makes a beeline for the kitchen, returning with a half-empty champagne bottle and two flute glasses.

                                            "Again?"

                                            >"My mistake was drinking on an empty stomach last time," your aunt responds as she fills up the glasses. "I'm fine now."

                                            >You snort and take a glass from her, sitting up and knocking the mildly sweet mixture back in one go.

                                            >"Oh, real nice, hypocrite," she giggles with a playful slap on your shoulder. "Now, where was I?"

                                            >Talking late into the night, the drink flows easily, and another bottle soon finds itself opened and drained, accompanied by wrappers and freshly dirtied bowls once holding ice cream and popcorn as the coffee table becomes more cluttered.

                                            >"And the wife had no idea, yeah? So they have to pay ME the rent instead!" Spoiled cackles as she lounges next to you, the leg rest open as both of you splay out.

                                            "No shit? Was the mold in the apartment THAT bad?" you reply in astonishment. "And you were still making rent each month?"

                                            >"Yep!" she giggles. "Took and dated photos of it every month, had the builder come out and do the same, whole nine yards. I got the fattest check I'd ever seen in my life and screamed!"

                                            >She descends into yet another giggling fit as you smirk and poke her playfully, the older woman yelping in laughter from the contact.

                                            >"That tickles, you dick!"

                                            "Oh, really now?"

                                            >Spoiled tries to back away from you as a sneering, sadistic smile forms on your face, buzzed brain whirring to life as you snatch her by the arm and yank her close to you.

                                            >"Stop it! Stop iiii-" she tries to blurt out before her speech degrades into more laughter as your fingers attack her sides, both your legs holding her against you as she feebly tries to pry her way out of the lock, face red and tears streaming down her face as she bellows.

                                            >For three minutes, your aunt's mirth is the only sound in the suite as she writhes and turns in your grip, before you decide to have mercy and take your hands away from her abdomen, the woman slumping against you, thoroughly exhausted.

                                            >"...Asshole..." she breathes with a goofy grin, the two of you now lying on the sofa, her weight on your body a strangely comforting feeling.

                                            "Guilty as charged," you tease.

                                            A few moments of silence pass before a thought worms its way into your mind from earlier in the day.

                                            >You knew your uncle-in-law had been unfaithful to your aunt, but you knew nothing about it or if she had dealt with it.

                                            "Umm, Aunt-"

                                            >"Just call me Spoiled, please. Aunt makes me feel old," she cuts you off.

                                            "Spoiled... I know this is out of the blue, and probably not a good subject, but you mentioned your husband earlier, and I..."

                                            >The look on your face must've said the rest, as the twinkling in her eyes dims.

                                            >"Why'd you have to bring it up?" she mutters.

                                            "Because it was tearing you up when I came in the bedroom," you reply almost on autopilot, surprising yourself. "I know I'm not much, but from what I saw, you need someone to talk to about it."

                                            >In the dim light of the full moon, you feel her shift to lay on her side as you scoot along the couch, resting your back against the armrest.

                                            "...Spoiled?"

                                            >"Fine. I guess you're right," she concedes in frustration. "What do you want to know?"

                                            "However much you're comfortable with," you say. "I'm just going to listen for now."

                                            >"It happened four months ago," she starts after a moment of collecting herself. "I went to his office downtown with some lunch while on vacation to surprise him. I guess there was some sort of no entry policy concerning his office, since everyone looked at me funny when I went to his door."

                                            >You nod and place a hand on her back, rubbing softly.

                                            >"I opened it up, and there he was, with some hussy sitting on his desk, legs spread open," she continues, anger beginning to seep into her voice. "He was too busy having fun under her skirt to hear me come in."

                                            "And what did you do?"

                                            >"I grabbed him by the hair and yanked him away," she replies. "Tossed the soup I'd picked up for him in his face, and started screaming at him. I'd heard that something like that makes you too shocked to do anything, but I don't believe it after that. Drove home, barred the door and just... cried."

                                            >You sigh through your nose and let your body loosen as she curls up slightly.

                                            >"He said he'd gotten bored of me, that I was too "bold" for him. I guess the prenup made him think he was invincible," she murmurs. "Idiot forgot that my name's on the lease for this place, though."

                                            "You're both in real estate, right?" you ask.

                                            "Mh-hmm. I brought him onto my firm as a consultant, and we grew my little business until it was almost as big as his. Now I've got other employees."

                                            >The conversation fades for a few minutes before she looks up at you with inquiry written all over her face.

                                            >"I'm not boring, am I, Anon?"

                                            >Your mind spins, trying to figure out how to not sound like yet another bootlicker as you respond.

                                            "No," you finally manage to spit out. "Spoiled, you're one of the biggest power players in all Manehatten. A self-made woman who's as confident as she an be."

                                            >"You're just saying that," she groans, suffused with self-defeat.

                                            "No, I'm not! Look, do you think I'd have spent the last three hours talking to you on this sofa if you were boring? Do you have any idea how refreshing it is to talk to someone like you, who's been through so much crazy shit? I live out of the city in Bumfuck Nowhere, USA, Spoiled. You're like a storybook character to me."

                                            >A small smile comes to her at your metaphor as you prop yourself up higher, now holding Spoiled instead of just being a support.

                                            "So stop beating yourself up, okay? I know the papers call you this heartless property mogul and all sorts of other nonsense, but they'll smear anyone making moves in a place like this. Just trust yourself. You're intelligent, confident, perceptive, attractive and charismatic. There's a lot for you to be happy about right now."

                                            >"...Attractive?"

                                            >The blood drains from your face as she picks that one word to fixate on, her flushed cheeks darkening even further as she spins in her spot to look at you properly.

                                            >"You mean that?"

                                            It's your turn to blush now, as you become suddenly aware of the cleavage her blouse is showing.

                                            "W-Well, yes. You're only what, 25-26?"

                                            >"32," she deadpans with a smirk. "And why are you suddenly staring?"

                                            "I, uh, uh I-I-"

                                            >"You're not bad looking either, you know."

                                            "What-"

                                            >Cut off yet again, you let out a strangled noise of pure shock as the heavy flavor of vanilla and alcohol fills your mouth, soft lips touching yours for the briefest of moments.

                                            >"You oughta see the look on your face right now!" she mocks as she slaps your chest playfully.

                                            >A strange mixture of emotions comes to you, but your embarrassment demands you give her a taste of her own medicine.

                                            "Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

                                            >Inhibitions loosened, you grasp your aunt by the chin and slam your mouth against hers, savoring the rich aroma of her perfume as your bodies press together.

                                            >You're bewildered as she doesn't resist you at all, mewling quietly as your tongues meet, her hands wrapping around to your back and holding tight.

                                            >Eventually, you're forced to separate for air, the air around you suffused with heat and the faint scent of sweat.

                                            >No sooner than you finish gasping, she's back on you again, this time running her slender fingers down the front of your shirt, the cheap buttons slipping out of place easily and baring your upper body to the cool air.

                                            >A part of you wants this to stop immediately, but a sordid blend of pity, empathy and lust drowns the voice of reason as you allow her to feel your wiry frame, shuddering.

                                            "H-Hold on a second-" you try to say between kisses, only for her to take her hand and grab yours, leading it to her chest and pressing down.

                                            >The weight and softness turns your brain blank as you squeeze and fondle the flesh, Spoiled taking her lips off yours and moaning in your ear.

                                            >"Not here," she croons. "Upstairs."

                                            >The both of you stumble off the couch and head for the stairwell, your eyes locked firmly on her rear the whole way.

                                            >You briefly ponder the taboo you're currently committing, but your addled mind can't find the strength to care.

                                            >She needs this, badly.

                                            >Flinging open the bedroom door, Spoiled reaches for your belt, dragging you inside and onto the bed, the sudden change in orientation dizzying as she climbs on top of you.

                                            >You can feel a dampness through your khakis as she fumbles with her dress zipper, yanking in down her side and pulling the garment off frantically.

                                            >Your pants are suddenly a size too small for comfort.

                                            "Are you sure about this-"

                                            >"Just shut up," she growls as she unclasps her bra, the lacy black bit of cloth slipping off easily.

                                            >You don't need to be told twice as you bring your hands up and take hold of her breasts, working off of instinct as you roll and massage her slowly, the older woman thrashing her head and moaning.

                                            >There's a shuffling below you as she undoes your belt, crying as you pull her torso down and take a nipple in your mouth, the bud stiffening as you flex your tongue across it.

                                            >Finally, your bits are free and excited as she smoothly strokes you, your lower head already slick as she tucks her panties to one side, giving you a ravenous look.

                                            >"Ready to give me my birthday present?" she huskily sings.

                                            >Whatever reply you have is scattered to the winds as she roughly slips you inside of her, bottoming out and immediately trying not to burst as her tender walls cling to you, every part of your penis enveloped in a near-crushing vice.

                                            >"Were you...?" she ponders aloud in amazement as you can only nod in response.

                                            >A malicious grin comes to her as she leans down and nibbles at your throat, clenching her abdomen in a torturous rhythm.

                                            >"Well then, let me make this occasion a real treat for you, big man."

                                            >A cry escapes you as she rises up and drops her hips on you, the motion creating bursts of color in your vision as you reach the brink immediately.

                                            "S-Stop!" you raggedly yell, slamming a hand down on each of her thighs and pinning her against you. "Too much!"

                                            >"Oh, am I too much for you to handle?"

                                            "Yes," you blurt without thinking, unable to form proper sentences.

                                            >"Sorry, honey," she giggles. "I'll take it nice and slow for you, 'kay?"

                                            >Time seems to stop as she sets her hands down on your chest for leverage, daintily massaging your shoulders as she bobs up and down, a sheen of sweat breaking out across your body as your penis feels like it's melting.

                                            >Her tongue rolls over your neck and ear, and you snarl in pain as her teeth clamp down just above your collarbone, sucking and pulling for almost a minute before she moves her mouth to yours, letting you taste the tinge of copper and salt.

                                            >You desperately thrust your hips, the edge unbearable as the head of your prick grinds inside of her, Spoiled cooing at your eagerness.

                                            >"Good boy," she mewls. "It's been a while for me. Are you close?"

                                            "P-Please," you pathetically beg.

                                            >"Then hold tight, big man. I'm about to blow your mind."

                                            >Your voice degrades into a howling moan as she abruptly begins moving quicker, your body on autopilot as you try to match her rhythm, pistoning upwards and making the bed shake as she picks the pace up further.

                                            >The coil in your lower abdomen finally snaps, and you scream as you cum, Spoiled matching your cry as she constricts you, milking every last bit she can from you.

                                            >As your aunt falls over on top of you, you manage to pull what remains of your strength together and reach down, pulling the covers over the two of you before you doze off.

                                            >"Thanks, sweetie," Spoiled whispers in your ear as your consciousness fades.

                                            ---

                                            >"Rise and shine, Anon!"

                                            >Your dreamless sleep is brought to a rude and disorienting end as your left eye is forced open by a pair of manicured fingers, light filling your vision and forcing you up in your spot.

                                            >"You'd have slept straight through your interview, wouldn't you?" Spoiled laughs as you sit up, floundering until your pants finally free up your legs.

                                            "...Oh fuck. Aunt Spoiled, I am SO sorry-"

                                            >She cuts you off with a bold, hard kiss, cupping your chin in one hand.

                                            >"Don't be," she responds with a cheeky smile. "I really needed to work off some stress."

                                            >She hasn't bothered to dress herself, other than putting her bra back on, and your vision is filled with glorious cleavage as she reaches up above you and puts a spare pillow behind your head.

                                            "But we're-"

                                            >"Family? Hardly," she snorts. "The last time I saw you, you were in third grade, Anon. Blood's not the only thing that makes someone part of a family. I learned that the hard way."

                                            >You try to form a response, but fail, instead sighing and slumping back against the headboard.

                                            >"But hey, you'll have time to get used to it," she shrugs.

                                            "What do you mean?"

                                            >"Oh sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself," she laughs. "Your mother told me about wanting to move out of her place. I can tell you right now that you're going to have to cough up close to $1500 for anything other than a studio apartment in this part of town. Soooo..."

                                            >Lying next to you, the smile on her face widens into a mischievous grin.

                                            >"I had a LOT of fun last night, and you were right. I AM my own woman, and I'm better than some weepy little waif who cries over a cheater like him," she proudly says. "So I'll cut you a deal. You let me have some... quality fun... when I want to, and I'll let you crash here while you settle in the city. Sounds like a good time, right?"

                                            >The parts of your brain that are still half-asleep jolt to life as you look over at your aunt, her leering smirk filled with a concoction of mirth, whimsy and lust.

                                            "...Are you asking to be my sugar mama?" you bluntly ask.

                                            >"Yep. You're not like the little brown-nosers I deal with every day. You're honest, frank, and don't care for ceremony. I could use a little more of that."

                                            >"And this cock is pretty nice, too," she adds, slipping a hand under the sheets and giving your morning wood a steady series of pumps that make you arch your back and moan. "Whaddya say?"

                                            "I-I don't know about this," you protest, overstimulated and confused.

                                            >"Need a little more convincing, then?" she luridly hums in your ear, lifting one hefty breast free from her bra and bringing it to your face as her hand speeds up.

                                            >Your mouth latches on to her nipple on impulse, and you convulse as your sensitive penis swells and throbs, unable to handle her finesse as you stain her hand white.

                                            >"Still a bit of a quick shot, but we can work on that," Spoiled croons as she brings her soiled fingers to her mouth, making sure you can see as she meticulously licks your semen off her digits. "Right?"

                                            >You let go of her tit for air, flushed and panting before you weakly nod.

                                            >"Good boy."