Lilim — his mother’s eldest sister — sat closest to where he stood with her back turned to him:
She had leaned far forward over the table to reach something, and the short blouse she wore had ridden all the way up, exposing a long, smooth stretch of her lower back.
Damon had never realized how deep the curve of her spine was before.
It dipped low, elegant and soft, running down into a waist that pulled in tight before it flared — and God, how it flared.:
That was the thing about Lilim... she was built differently:
Her waist stayed narrow and then her hips just kept going, spreading out wide and heavy and soft hips any man could rest his whole weight against and made for gripping.
Even seated, the width of her spilled over the sides of the chair.
Her ass had flattened out against the seat under her own weight, pushed wide and full by the way she was bent forward, and Damon could see the soft flesh of her hips pressing out against the fabric of her shorts like there was too much of her for the clothes to keep track of.
From behind, he couldn’t see her tits at all.
But he knew what was there; everyone knew what was there, they were impossible not to know about... her boobs were big and looked heavy too enough that she’d been complaining about her back since he was twelve — and from this angle all he got was the barest hint of them, just the outer swell just visible past her ribs where they hung forward under her, pressed and pushed by the way she leaned over her plate.
He could see the shape her body made around them and the weight of them changing how she balanced.
He couldn’t see the actual thing, and his imagination, being the loyal degenerate it was, immediately filled in the gap in high definition.
She was also wearing loose, soft short pants that sat low on her hips.
And because she was leaning so far in, the short had shifted and pulled, creating a dangerous little opening at the back.
The dark straps of her thong were fully visible now; they were thin and delicate but cutting into that narrow waist of hers despite her hips size like they had been put there just to be followed downward.
Just below them, Damon could see the deep inviting crack of her ass cheeks that had been exposed.
Soft full cheeks had parted just enough by the way she was bent, heavy and shameless and the dark thong disappeared between them but the waistband (if he could call it that) had rode down to show off her crack and upper parts of her ass like the thong was begging him to hook it aside with two fingers.
The small shift she made sent a slow, heavy ripple through all that softness — the undersides of those big cheeks trembling faintly making the cleft deepening for a second before closing again; he was sure her ass would swallow his hand if he grabbed it.
Damon could see exactly how it would look if he stepped up behind her, yanked those loose shorts down another inch, and pulled the thong out of the way.
Damon’s new huge cock gave a heavy, shameless twitch that almost hurt.
Pre-cum was already starting to bead at the tip.
For a second he just stood there, staring, and the question hit him dirty and simple: what would it be like if she let him?
If she stayed bent over like that and let him step up behind her.
If she let him slide his hands under that short blouse and take those thick hips like they belonged to him.
Would she one day let him grind his entire length of his dick right against that crack.
He could almost feel imagine how warm and soft her ass and that crack felt — that fat ass pressing back, the dark thong was the only thing between him and her, well and her pants but they’d abandoned they’re job.
And if she let him hook it aside and push in right there, in front of everyone... what kind of quiet, surprised sound would come out of her mouth then?
This was his big aunt and his mother’s eldest sister; Lilim.
This woman had bounced him on her knee and called him her little man and pinched his cheeks at every birthday since he could walk.
Yet now the thoughts he had were these?
That should have shamed him but it did the exact opposite.
Somewhere in the back of his head the thought of fucking her was inevitable... his cock jumped so hard against his zipper it was almost audible.
Damon forced himself to look away although he hated it before he did something insane, and cleared his throat loud enough to make sure everyone who hadn’t noticed him yet finally did.
And that was when he felt something start to work.
It was small and almost subtle enough that he almost missed it.
But the second his voice hit the room, something shifted in the air around that table, and one by one the women responded to it without having the faintest idea why.
The aunt seated furthest away stopped mid-sentence and forgot what she’d been saying. She blinked, laughed at herself, and didn’t finish the thought. Camilla, who had been reaching for the water jug, reached instead for a glass that was already full, then set it down again, her fingers lingering on the stem.
Someone’s chair creaked as its occupant shifted her weight and crossed her legs — then, a second later, uncrossed and crossed them the other way, like the first arrangement hadn’t solved whatever needed solving.
Three separate pairs of eyes came up and stayed on him a beat longer than they should have.
’The Manly Scent,’ he realized. ’The Mature Affinity. The Liberator’s Presence.’
All of them were running quietly in the background doing exactly what they had been built to do, and none of these women had any idea they’d just been walked in on by something that hadn’t been in this house yesterday.
Damon kept his face perfectly pleasant.
Inside, he was cackling like a lunatic.
Lilim also turned finally slightly, still bent forward, and smiled around a mouthful of food. She swallowed, her throat working, and said in that warm older-sister voice:
"Sorry, nephew. I started without you, I was famished."
"It’s fine, Aunt L."
His voice came out easy, warm and yet controlled which was frankly a miracle, considering the state of things below the table line and the fact that she was still bent over with her thong on display to flash her deep crack of her round big ass crack and had just used the word famished while his brain was operating at approximately three percent capacity.
Even as he answered her, he kept part of his focus on the rest of the table watching their reactions to his new presence the way a predators watches prey.
He could already feel their eyes lingering a little longer than usual: measuring him, sensing something different, not able to name it.
Just leaning, very slightly, in his direction.
And just like he’d expected—
"Hey, nephew!" one of them called out cheerfully; if it wasn’t the teasing one, the youngest of them all! Her eyes were bright with mischief as they flicked over him — down, then back up, then down again to the tent between his legs, a fraction slower on the return trip, she licked her lips and:
"What’s with the new grow there? Or am I just seeing things?"