From a young age, I always wished to bang/see my aunt naked. When she’d visit, I’d secretly open them and see her panties afterward close it back as I found it.
One other time, 5/6 years ago, we went to visit our other relatives, and we shared a room. Initially, I felt guilty when we shared the bed. Thus, I moved further away to the edge. She asked why, not knowing that I did that to avoid sexual thoughts. She then asked me to move closer, which I then did.
Tomorrow morning, I pretended to sleep in order to watch her change. She changed, facing the mirror that lay in front of the bed. I’d see her in her thongs and g-strings. On the first morning, she brushed her teeth, came back, and took out her clothes for the day. She then proceeded to lift up her short nightdress. What lay underneath the dress was a beautiful marvelous sight to behold: petite boobs, a light caramel skin, she wore a black thong on that day, the sight of it as it covered her genitals revealing a perfect cameltoe.
She put on her pants halfway, turned around, and faced the mirror. Which revealed another beautiful sight to behold. A perfect bottox caramel in color and with a bit of cellulite, the string sinking deep into her crank. She then lifted up her pants fully and left. I couldn’t believe what I’d just seen. I nearly burst a load.
The night of that day, we went to bed as she was sleeping her nightdress pulled slightly up. This time, she wore a black and white thong. I went back to sleep, knowing I’d see it properly in the morning. Morning, the same process occurred only this time she wore a black and white one. This made me remember the past days when I accidentally saw her naked.
Fast forward 5 years later, she came to visit at my house, this time i had my own room. The following morning, I woke up early and went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. She then appears in her night dress. The memories from 5 years go return. She makes conversation. I try by all means to end it, but she keeps talking. I try to move away to the next room. Finally, she ends it.
Later, during the day after she bathes, she hangs her stuff by the washing line to dry. Amongst them, I see a blue lace g-string. I began to feel regret. Asking myself, “is this what she really wore underneath while talking to me earlier?”, “How could I be so stupid to end the conversation quickly?”, “why didn’t I pull her to her room and pull that dress down?”. I began to visualize the sight of that g-string hugging her genitals revealing a beautiful cameltoe, while showing the pubic hairs.
