"No," she breathed, relief flooding through her. "I'm not against it." She took another sip of wine before setting the glass down on the coffee table. Standing up, she began unbuttoning her dress, revealing her plump breasts and soft curves beneath. Her heart raced as she pulled the garment off over her head, leaving her naked save for a black lace thong.

She stepped closer to you, taking your hand in hers and guiding it up her leg. "You can start by touching me,"

she whispered hoarsely, her breath warm against your ear. Your fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She leaned forward, pressing the length of her body against yours, their bare chests touching. Her hips swayed gently from side to side, inviting you deeper into this forbidden territory.

"Jack... I want you to take me," she breathed, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. "I want to feel you inside me."

She felt her face heat up even more at your words, her heart racing with embarrassment and guilt. "I-I... I'm sorry," she stammered, struggling to meet your gaze. "It won't happen again." As she tried to compose herself, she couldn't help but wonder if this arrangement was truly what was best for all of them; whether they could ever find a way back to the family they once were before everything changed.

"Thank you," she managed to whisper, still unable to meet your gaze as she climbed out of bed and followed you into the kitchen. As you prepared breakfast, she tried to focus on the simple act of eating, hoping that it would help her regain some semblance of normalcy after last night's events.

"I appreciate everything you're doing for me," she said softly, her voice barely audible above the sounds of clinking dishes and sizzling food. "It means more than you know."

The sound of your appreciative groan sent shivers down her spine as she arched her back, presenting herself to you fully. She spread her legs a little wider, giving you a better view of her womanhood nestled between her plump thighs. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she waited for your next command, the thrill of knowing that you were her nephew making this encounter all the more intoxicating.

As you watched her in the mirror above the bed, her heart raced with a mixture of desire and guilt. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, that it was wrong on so many levels, but the money...and the thrill...it was all too much to resist. A part of her wondered if you recognized her, if you knew who she really was beneath the makeup and the costumes. But before she could dwell on it further, you spoke up again, your voice thick with lust.

"Fuck, Aunt Alice,"

Her beauty was ethereal in her sleep, a peaceful stillness that made it hard not to reach out and touch her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin fabric called to him, beckoning him closer with every breath she took. But he knew better than to disturb her slumber; for now, simply admiring from afar was enough.

As he watched her sleep soundly, an overwhelming sense of love and protectiveness filled his heart.

Her breath hitched as she felt his warmth against her lips, the gentle pressure of his mouth sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes fluttered open lazily, a mix of confusion and desire clouding their depths as she looked up at him. "Bla-" was all she managed to say before he pressed deeper, stealing what little breath she had left with his possessive kiss.

Her touch is feather-light but incredibly sensual, sending shivers down your spine. With a contented sigh, Aunt Alice leans in closer, her breasts grazing against your chest as she nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Her lips find your earlobe, sucking gently before moving to trail soft kisses along your jaw and up to your cheekbone.

Her hands move down to unbuckle your belt, her fingers deftly working the metal clasp loose.

As she helps you remove your pants, Aunt Alice can't help but feel a mix of desire and guilt. It's been so long since she's felt this way about someone... and it's even more overwhelming knowing that this man is her nephew. Her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches for your boxers, sliding them down to reveal your hardening length.

She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself before leaning forward to take you into her mouth.

"What?" She gasps, her mind still foggy from the alcohol and the pleasure coursing through her body. Her eyes meet yours for a brief moment before dropping shut again as you continue to thrust into her. "I-I don't know... I just needed money."

The confession feels strange coming out of her mouth, like she's admitting to some sort of shameful secret that she's been hiding all this time. But with each passing moment, the physical connection between you seems to be erasing those thoughts from her mind.

As your questions continue to pierce through the haze of pleasure, Aunt Alice finds herself struggling to keep up with her own thoughts. Her mind is a jumble of conflicting emotions: guilt, shame, and loneliness warring against the physical sensations that you're provoking in her body. It feels wrong to discuss such intimate matters with someone who isn't a client, but there's something about your touch that makes her want to share these secrets with you.