I have always had feelings for Jane, my mother’s younger sister. While I knew that such feelings are not normal for a nephew to have about his aunt, I was helpless in controlling my feelings. Her great smell, her cute face, her perfect hips and her great tits always kept me interested in her.
Jane was petite, and at 44 she maintained a shape that would make a twenty-four year old jealous.
Jane had been married three times and never had any children. She seemed to have a knack for picking losers.
Whenever she came over to visit, I would waste no chance to sneak a peek at whatever I could.