My old fat aunty turned me into a geriatric piss fetish fucker

Back in the very early 1960s I was in my last year at school – and a virgin. My mum got sick and ended up in hospital and with dad having to work, I was shipped off to my aunty Flora’s for the next few weeks. Thinking back she would have been in her mid-70's by then. But she was quite a liberal lady for the day, saying things like ‘Don’t worry if you see me naked or I am used to being on my own, you see.’
In all the time I was with her she never closed the bathroom door and I'd often seen her sitting on the toilet so when she had a pee and I'd heard the hiss of her peeing and the splashing sound as it hit the water below made me intrigued.
Coming in from school the next day she was nowhere downstairs. Calling her name I went around the next day and went into her house. I called out, no reply. I called again and she said she was in the toilet.
As I headed for the toilet, I heard the familiar splashing of pee hitting the water below.
When I reached the doorway there she was, sitting on the toilet, skirt up, wearing stockings and suspenders, but instead of pulling her panties down, she'd left them up and was wetting herself. Her pee flooding through the thick cotton material. She wore old fashioned panties; the type old ladies wore then.
She told me not to be alarmed, it was just something she liked to do- it got her excited. She then touched my crotch and I began to get hard.
After a nice tea Aunty sat next to me as we watched TV and she asked me if I had a girlfriend and when I said no, she replied she said she could show me what girls liked – like she liked peeing through her pants.
When I just nodded, she leaned across and started to kiss me, eventually we had our tongues in each other mouths and what was a turn on was when she started to dribble a lot of saliva into my mouth.
By now my cock was a stiff as a board and she got it out and told me that girls like young men to feel their vaginas when kissing.
As we kissed, I had my hand up her skirt, feeling for her cunt. Taking my hand she encouraged me to do so. Reaching her panties they were damp and the more I fingered her hairy cunt, she let me feel the little squirts off piss she was pushing out.
‘Oh that’s’ lovely, do you like Aunt’s pee pee? Now, I am going to get you to shoot your baby batter and then I will show you how to fuck me. I bet none of your friends have fucked their aunty.’
Aunt had always been a lady, but to hear her talk dirty it seemed to get her really going.
Guiding my rampant cock into her fat cunt she squirted more piss, Oh! My...oh!!...oh!, fuck me, fuck me, fuck your old aunty’, she cried.
I rammed it into her, thrusting as hard as I could.
‘Aunty you really are a perverted and dirty lady, aren’t you?’ I said.
‘Oh! Oh! I'm a dirty fucking bitch’ she whimpered.
She had one final orgasm and I came myself, pouring thick wads of spunk into her throbbing cunt. I rested on her belly, getting that familiar feeling after coming of needing a pee.
A few minutes later, and my limp dick really let me know of the piss pressure built up enough and I let lose hot piss over her fat belly.
The first night was the first of many. Boy did Aunty love to piss. She told me that my bladder must always be so full that I feel I could piss – not desperate to.
She must have saved it up all day as when I came home she was always on toilet waiting for me. Always stark bollock naked, her lovely wobbly tummy hanging over her cunt. Smiling at me, she lifted it up and that was my cue to piss all over her as she started to finger her cunt.
As soon as I got hard she leaned over and sucked me off, urging me to shoot my spunk. As she could not swallow it all, a lot oozed down to her chin- she was in my eyes, sex on legs.
One Saturday we went shopping and she said that she wanted to piss. Out into the car park, she let go and I saw it running down her stockinged legs and into her shoes. Ah, that’s better. She remarked.
And it didn’t stop there. She wanted me to piss my pants one day in a restaurant. Well, as I was now well trained to ‘just want to go’, I let it out and boy it was fantastic – the lovely hot piss wetting my pants and trousers. And what made it worse, I was not ashamed on leaving the place.
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