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Carly Goes Down Under Ch. 02

Carly Goes Down Under Ch. 02

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I trotted beside Uncle Rick as he pushed my trolley at a rapid pace out to his car in the car park. Again it was fire-engine red, again it was huge, and yes, it was another gas-guzzling Holden V8. Just one that was 10 years more recent than the machine he’d shown me around Sydney in on my last visit.

After he’d stowed my bags in the boot and was wheeling out of the car park, I chided him: “Really, uncle, what a loud fuss in the airport. People turned their heads!”

The now silver-haired 60-year-old smiled, his face tanned and lined, but much the same as I remembered him from 1996.

“Fuck ’em,” he said, with his typically Anglo-Saxon but also decidedly Australian turn-of-phrase, “give the bastards something to talk about on their drive to their dreary little homes in Parramatta, or Paddington, or wherever the fuck they live.”

As he gunned the grunty big V8 onto the freeway, he looked at me and smiled. “Still ravishing, you little Pommy tart, still got jugs to die for, I see,” he said, looking at my 36-inch breasts, which now had to strain into a DD bra, up in size from 10 years ago.

“And Mr and Mrs Spanky – they still enjoy all those naughty games?” I asked, rubbing my hand provocatively along his thigh, which was still muscled and taut.

“Fuckin’ oath,” he replied, in another of those coarse Aussie terms I’d come to remember. “But Mrs Spanky – or your Aunty Jackie – told me to tell you that she’s looking forward to becoming re-acquainted with that highly educated mouth of yours, you little slut.”

“I’m glad to hear that things haven’t changed,” I said, before stretching out and enjoying the drive to the harbourside mansion that uncle’s royalty millions had paid for.

Inside the house it was a case of deja-vu. Down the stairs to meet us came the beautifully busty Aunt Jackie, clad as she had been all those years ago when she greeted me, in a striking bikini. This one, made of shiny red PVC, was even briefer than her style from 1996.

She was 45 now, but still a woman who most men – and a helluva lot of women – would give their eye teeth for. Well, if you’re talking women, you would certainly have to include me. Her breasts were still big and firm-looking, she appeared to have put no weight on whatsoever, her hair was still lustrous, only a few lines on her neck, probably the result of her devotion to lounging in the sun by the pool, made her look older.

“Hi, you filthy little slut,” she smiled, kissing me on the cheek and goosing me on the bum. “What lies has God’s gift to middle-aged women here been spinning you on the way here?”

“Something about fucking you five times a day, and six on Sundays,” I grinned, as Uncle Rick took my bags upstairs to my room.

“Lying little Pommy sheila,” he roared, as he disappeared upstairs.

“Five times a day and six on Sundays?” laughed Aunty Jackie. “Chance would be a fine opportunity. There are times when Mrs Spanky has to go down on her knees and beg him for it.”

“A position I presume you’re delighted to be in?” I told her.

“Too fuckin’ right,” said aunty, in a much more accented Australian twang than I remembered from 1996. Still, it was a decade on, I guess.

When I’d unpacked everything and Uncle Rick had provided us a fine crayfish salad washed down with a couple of bottles of vintage Krug, I stretched and made my excuses.

“Pardon me, you lovely randy two,” I said, “but I hardly slept a wink on the leg down from Singapore. Do you mind if I catch up on some beauty sleep for an hour or two?”

“Go for it, you wimpy Pommy tart,” grinned uncle. “I’ll wake you up around 5 o’clock. Rachel’s popping round for some drinks and a steak on the barbie later, and then we can all remember the good times, when all my pubic hair was black and I could get it up without the help of a fuckin’ container crane!”

I kissed them both on the cheek – there would be plenty of time for more intimate caresses during the next month – and walked upstairs to my bedroom, which looked much the same as when I’d left it in 1996.

I stripped nude, fell in between the sheets and in my mind drifted off to memories of some of those times.

Like my first experience of a “bungee whipping”, hoisted into those strong rubber bands suspended from the ceiling, and bouncing up and down on my aunt’s mouth. For each stroke of uncle’s many-stranded rubber flogger, I got an equal number of licks. After stroke number 15, aunty licked my sex trench 15 times, then released my legs, just as I felt my orgasm begin.

My body sprang back up on the rubber strands, then uncle gave me stroke 16, and aunty hauled me down onto her mouth again for 16 strokes, only I’d bellowed to an orgasm after about a dozen licks from her luscious little tongue.

I remembered being freed and uncle, his cock thick and turgid pressed against my thigh as he rubbed his hands all over my heaving breasts. “And tell me, you filthy little Pommy slut,” he whispered in my ear, “did you enjoy your first bungee whipping?”

“I see what you mean about Bayan Escort Gaziantep something good coming out of – what did you call New Zealand, the Shaky Isles?” I gasped, coming back to earth from my Big O in more ways than one.

“Yeah,” said uncle, “the place is full of scenery and sheep, that’s all it’s good for, but the bungee whipping takes a bit of beating, pardon the pun, you lovely little slut.”

After the excitement of my debut as a bungee whipping slave, we all lay back on recliners and I worked again on my tan. Then the phone rang and uncle answered using his portable extension.

“Hiya, Rache,” I heard him say, obviously addressing his 40-year-old sister. “Yeah, she’s settled in, got over her jet lag, loves being bungee whipped and has a fuckin’ fetish for being spanked.

“What say you get that scrawny arse of yours into gear and get here, so we can play some games with the little Pommy slut.”

Judging by uncle’s reaction, his sister could think of nothing she’d like to do more than “play some games” with me, the “little Pommy slut”, and uncle cut the connection and told me and aunty: “She’s on her way. I’d better make sure we’ve got some steaks de-frosted, you know how she likes her meat! Rare and runny, just like her pussies!”

While he was gone to get some steak out of the deep freeze, Aunt Jackie enlightened me about her husband’s sister. I already knew she was 40, five years older than my aunt, but that was it.

“I think you’ll like her,” said Aunty Jackie, rolling over onto her tummy, giving me a glorious vision of rolling, bouncing big breasts and a lovely shaved pussy as she did so.

“She’s tall, almost as tall as your Uncle Rick, so it wasn’t a surprise when she became a top lingerie model, although she’s given that up now. But you know the type – legs that go on forever, as the old saying goes, 34-inch breasts, but they’re lovely to suck on. But she’s unusual.”

I matched Aunty Jackie, switching to lying on my tummy so I could tan my back and buttocks some more. “In what way?” I asked.

“Well, she’s that strange creature who likes to be dommed but is equally at home being a bit of a dominant herself,” said Aunt Jackie. “I domme her like crazy, of course, because that’s the way I am, but she can take it and also hand it out. She loves to whip her brother.”

I almost gagged on my orange juice. “She fuckin’ whips him?” I said, adopting uncle’s Australian way of leaving the “g” from the word.

“Sure,” smiled Aunt Jackie. “They don’t fuck, but she’ll flog his arse every now and again. Not that it’s all one-way traffic. Rick gets a huge hard on just watching as his whip cracks down on her lovely long figure. Well, the lovely old perve is into whipping and spanking anything that wears skirts.”

“Do you mind?” I inquired, realising now that Uncle Rick was even more of a randy bastard than I’d thought.

“Nah,” said my dad’s sister. “He doesn’t fuck her, so that’s OK.”

“But he fucks me!” I said. “What’s the difference?”

Aunt Jackie smiled indulgently. “He fucks you because you’re an extremely attractive young woman and you’re not really related – well, only by marriage to me. He doesn’t regard it in the slightest as incest. What you and I do is incest, but Rick would, in his delightful turn of phrase, describe you as ‘fair game’, my dear Carly,” she said.

Just then Uncle Rick returned, this time holding a cold bottle of lager in his hand. “What’s fair game, darl?” he asked, as he lay his naked body down on the recliner, his flesh tanned and brown and glistening from suntan lotion.

“I was just explaining to Carly here that while you get a terrific boner simply being flogged by your sister, or by flogging her, you never fuck her, but your fucking Carly isn’t really incest.”

“Well,” said Uncle Rick, sucking down some of the liquid amber, “I wouldn’t necessarily want to argue it in front of the stipendiary magistrate, but I take your point. If I weren’t married to you, darl, and I came across Carly in a bar, there’d be nothing to prevent me chatting her up, then racing her off to bed.”

“Except your appalling foreplay,” I joked.

“Well, never mind my foreplay, Carly,” said uncle with a wicked grin forming on his face. “Now, how about a fuck?”

We all broke into laughter, then uncle heard a tooting as a car had obviously pulled up in front of the big mansion.

“That’s probably Rache,” he said, “but in case it’s not, you two gets towels across your big boobs, while I see to it.”

About a minute later, Uncle Rick reappeared, walking alongside a vision in a shiny sort of green metallic bikini. The woman’s legs were, indeed, long, her bust was big, but not as big as mine or Aunty Jackie’s, and her dark hair – just as dark as Uncle Rick’s – shone lustrously in the strong Sydney sun. Think Elle Macpherson only with a slightly smaller build and you’ve got it.

Uncle, his cock standing to attention, brought his sister alongside my recliner and announced: “Carly, you lovely little Pommy bitch, meet a true blue Aussie sheila – Rachel, this is Carly, Carly, Rachel.”

I stood, my towel falling from my big boobs as I did so and held out a hand to Rick’s 40-year-old sister. She gripped it strongly and pulled me towards her and kissed me fully on the mouth.

“I mean to start the way I intend to continue, you lush-breasted Pommy bird, you,” she grinned. “Come on, let’s sit in the shallow end and you can tell me all about yourself.”

Then she turned to her brother and ordered: “All right, balls for brains, get Carly and me a Crown lager each to suck on and rattle your dags, I’m fuckin’ thirsty.”

She spoke just like a female version of her big brother, but she was attractive, in a slightly hard-faced way, and she had a body to die for. When I see someone I like, I make my mind up very quickly. Rachel, I decided quickly, I liked.

We stepped in the pool and sat waist-deep in the lovely warm, blue waters. “All right Carly, tell me what’s been going on with your life, and start from when you got off the Boeing 74-fuckin’-7,” said Rachel. As you see, she didn’t beat about the proverbial bush.

Uncle Rick was back with the tops off two Crowns and as Rachel and I sucked on the cold nectar, I told her what had happened to me since my arrival.

In the early part of my story, I told her about what a shit Bruce had been, how he’d got me pissed, then delivered me back home more than two hours after uncle’s curfew.

“Hey, Rick, you old bastard,” Rachel called, “you didn’t let her fall for that fuckin’ Bruce trick, did you?”

I looked inquiringly at Uncle Rick, who had the good grace to look a little sheepish. “Er, sorry, Carly, but I’m afraid that was a bit of my doing. I slipped Brucie a $50 bill just to make sure he got you home after 2 in the morning. Sorry ’bout that, sport, but it all worked out in the end, eh?”

“You mean,” I started, but Aunty Jackie interrupted me.

“It was all an excuse so Rick could get your panties down to receive a lovely little spanking,” said told me. “And it worked, didn’t it, darl? You love it, don’t you?”

Well, she had me there. I certainly did.

Then Rachel turned my mind away from the way Bruce, Uncle Rick and Aunt Jackie had all “conned” me, by leaning over, caressing my near breast with a cool hand. Her mouth fastened onto mine and our tongues intertwined.

“He’s given you a bungee whipping?” she whispered, as we smooched, Rachel now using both hands on my breasts after placing her bottle of lager on the edge of the pool.

“Yes,” I said, hoarsely, returning her caresses by running my hands across her 34-inch beauties. Shit, they were firm!

“And ain’t it fun, eh Carly?” said the Aussie bird, as one hand slipped beneath the water and felt between my thighs.

“It was one of the most erotic experiences of my life,” I told her, without a hint of a lie. The caress of the rubber flogger, the caress of Aunt Jackie’s mouth bringing me to orgasm. The knowledge that it was all bringing Uncle Rick on. Yes, erotic it most certainly was.

“What say after they play the silly spanking-wanking game with us, we put my perverted old brother up in it and give him a flogging. You and I use the whips, sexy old Jackie there can fellate him when he gets down to her mouth. You on for that?”

My hand searched inside her bikini bra to tweak a lovely firm nipple. “I’m getting all hot just thinking about it,” I told her.

“Yes, I know,” said Rachel, who then moved her hand up to my mouth and pressed her fingers inside. They were wet with both pool water and my own sex juice.

Then Rachel, as if tiring of the lovely lesbian foreplay which I could have enjoyed for much longer, stood, the water gleaming on her bikini bottom and thighs. “OK Rick,” she called, “throw us towels and then we’ll play your fuckin’ spanking game. And after that, Carly here wants to play bungee whipping again – only with you as the whippee. What do ya reckon?”

Uncle looked at the pair of us, his cock standing stiffly to attention. “Whoopee, I’ll be the whippee,” said uncle, making an awful play on words.

“And I’ll be the suckee,” announced Aunt Jackie. “Now, towel dry girls and we’ll get down to that dungeon, I’m starting to drool with lust at the thought of the fun to come.”

As I started to towel, Rachel stepped out of her wispy little bikini bottom to reveal a narrow strip of jet black pubic hair some three inches long which rose from her mons. Otherwise, her sex trench was devoid of hair. Yummy, I thought.

When we were both dry, we joined uncle and aunty and our naked quartet walked down to the basement torture chamber.

Inside, uncle pulled a long leather bench from one wall with the help of his sister, and then he and Aunt Jackie sat down on it.

“Righto,” he said, “get across my lap, Carly, Rache you get over Jackie’s.”

I draped myself across my uncle’s muscular thighs, toes just scraping the floor, fingers on the other side also just making contact with the carpet. Rachel got over her sister-in-law’s lap so she was facing me, some foot away. Uncle then wriggled down the bench until my face was only inches from Rachel’s.

Rachel smiled sweetly and gave me a long, slow, kiss, our tongues mashing together energetically. Then she broke off and announced: “OK you fuckin’ perverts, do your worst.”

Uncle and aunty’s hands both slapped down across their target buttocks, the noises echoing around the room simultaneously. Then I felt uncle’s finger, tracing from my anus, across my weeping cunt, through my labia trench to my clit. As I enjoyed his caress, Rachel snogged with me. It was heaven!

Then the second blows cracked across two upturned bums, and now uncle’s finger worked up and down my sex trench twice. Another spank, and he travelled the course of my crutch three times. I was getting wetter and wetter, Rachel’s mouth was getting hotter and hotter.

The dual spankings continued, aunty and uncle in no hurry to complete the process, but after stroke number 16 had burned into my bum and uncle’s forefinger had started its delicate tracery over my flesh, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to hold back from the Big O.

After about the tenth stroke I started to sob, then groan and finally with a shrieked “Fuuuuuck, I’m coooooming” I roared to my climax. As it was obvious that I had “lost” the race – winner doesn’t come, remember? – Aunt Jackie halted her spanking of her sister-in-law’s bottom.

The spanking pair then allowed us to stand up and Rachel held out her hand for mine. “Come along, you sweet little slut,” she grinned, “it’s time for you to pay the penalty for coming first. You be able to get Rick the rock into position in the bungee by yourself, Jackie?”

My aunt laughed: “Done it so many times I could do it blindfold. Away you go for your fun, Rache.”

Over in a corner of the chamber was a large, high-backed leather easy chair. Rachel swung it around so that it was facing into the corner of the room. “We don’t want any distractions, do we, you lovely little Pommy tart?” she said, as she settled down in the chair and then threw her thighs on the arms, splaying her pussy before me in all its carnal glory.

I knelt on the floor in front of her, but Rachel leaned forward and cupped my chin in her fingers. “I’m in no fuckin’ hurry, you little slut,” she said, in a low, sexy voice. “Kneel on the chair and start by giving me a good, old-fashioned snogging. Then you can work your filthy little mouth down to the passion pit, OK?”

I nodded, thrilled by the anticipation of what I was soon going to be doing to the lovely former lingerie model, and knelt between her outstretched thighs and placed my mouth on hers. She cupped my buttocks and dragged me hard down against her, so my 36-inch boobs were crushing onto her 34s. My belly met hers, my heart was pounding, my tongue was working away inside her mouth.

We panted lustily through a couple of minutes of snogging, then my mouth moved southwards, licking and kissing on her superbly firm gloves, sucking on her nipples until they were as hard as cherrystones between my teeth, before moving further south, across her belly and abdomen, until I was kneeling on the carpet, my mouth inches from her sex.

Rachel gave off a stunning aroma of pussy perfume, and I ran my tongue from her musky anus, with its dark chocolate-coloured striations, up to her sopping wet cunt. I thrust my tongue as deep into the orifice as I could, and she let out a low gasp.

“Oh you filthy, randy, perverted little beauty,” she cried, “I’ll never make jokes about Pommy sheilas again, oh fuck me you’re good!”

The words were all the encouragement I needed, and I worked between her labia lips, sucking and kissing before nibbling at her swollen clit, and then moving back down to her arsehole to repeat the entire process. I knew that Rachel would indicate to me when she wanted her relief from the sexual tension that flowed from her crotch.

I had been lapping and laving at her quim for what must have been a couple of minutes – although I was enjoying myself so much it seemed to me like only a couple of seconds – when Rachel placed her hands on my head and pressed me hard against her clitoris.

“Tongue me, sweetie,” she whispered, “Aunty Rachel’s gonna come, you lovely little Pommy beauty, yes, yes, yes!” And with a shuddering roar, the 40-year-old announced the arrival of her climax as I struggled and strained to remain in place as she thrust and wriggled and graunched her pussy against my mouth.

I remained in place, slowly licking over her labia, tonguing her cunt again, then placing little puckered kisses on her anus, as Rachel slowly recovered her composure.

She looked down at me and smiled a long, slow smile, while she slowly shook her head: “That was a grade A, you beauty, you fuckin’ ripper orgasm-giver, you educated little pussy pleaser, you,” she informed me.

Then she stood and took me by the hand. “Come on babe, let’s choose our weapons,” she said, walking me over to the wall where all Uncle Rick’s flogging equipment hung, looking cruel and menacing, even just hanging there in place.

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