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As I walked up to my aunt’s front porch, my heart was racing. I hadn’t seen her in years, and the last time we spoke was at my mother’s funeral. It was a delicate moment for everyone, and I found solace in her business.

Her husband was a successful businessman that owned a slew of home improvement stores. As far as I knew, my aunt never had children, and she spent most of her time volunteering and painting. She was the outgoing one of the family, at all times willing to make everyone feel welcomed.

Once inside, I was greeted with the customary hug and kiss that came with seeing a relation. I hadn’t seen her in years, and it was delightful to see how much she had not changed. She had on a form-fitting dress that hugged her curves, showing off her womanly figure.

I couldn’t help but admire her breasts as we sat down on the couch. She noticed my wandering stare and blushed, making it all the more evident that I was giving her attention. I tried not to look, but my eyes were drawn to her ripe nipples that peeked out of her low-cut top.

Small spots of perspiration formed on my forehead, making me feel embarrassed for wanting her. She apologized for the heatwave that was sweeping through New York. I nodded, trying not to make it seem like I was some kind of pervert.

“How’s the job going?” she asked, leaning in closer to me. I noticed the way her body leaned toward me, sending chills down my spine.

“It’s going well. I’ve been working from home mostly, and there is no shortage of work.” I spoke calmly, hoping she wouldn’t sense the way my heart was beating out of my chest.

She smiled playfully, nodding at my response.

“I’m sure it’s going well, you’re always the hard-working one. You should take a break and enjoy life for a bit. Maybe take a vacation or something.”

I smiled, grateful for her concern. I could sense the tension in the air as she spoke. I felt like a teenager that was being seduced by his high college crush. But my aunt was married, and besides, she was too old for me, or so I wondered.

We sat in silence for what felt like hours, both engulfed in our thoughts. The tension in the air was palpable, and I couldn’t help but feel that we were both thinking of something we shouldn’t.

It wasn’t until she got up and walked over to me that my heart started racing again. She sat down beside me, looking into my eyes as I sat there petrified.

“Can I tell you something?” she whispered, her breath brushing against my face.

I nodded, incapable of responding any other way.

“I’ve always found you so attractive. I know you’re my nephew, but I can’t help myself. I’m drawn to you,” she spoke softly, her fingers finding their way to my neck.

I felt my body shudder at the connection, and for the first time in my life, I felt like nothing could stop me. I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers. The kiss was soft, and our tongues danced together in an embrace of forbidden love.

Our lips parted as I looked at her, admiring her beauty. She smiled, running her fingers through my hair, leading me to the bedroom.

We made love for hours as the heatwave took over the city. The sheets were soaked, our bodies intertwined in a lovers embrace. The passion was overwhelming, and for the first time in my life, I felt alive.

But the morning after was a stark reminder of why we couldn’t keep this up. My aunt’s husband was due back in town, and the sense of dread and guilt washed over me. We knew it was an impossibility, but the passion we felt in the night was undeniable.

Our secret remained a secret for years as we carried on with our regular family duties. But the passion was at all times there as we were reminded of our fling each time we saw each other.

It wasn’t until years later that we finally opened up about our transgressions. We had been caught by my aunt’s late husband before it all ended in tragedy. But our love remained, reminding us of the forbidden passion that burned deep inside of us.

In the end, we found peace and solace in the passion of our love, hoping that someday it’ll be accepted, regardless of its taboo affiliation.
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