Near-cest

It is often acknowledged that much of what is written in these confessions is very likely untrue. They don't pass the smell test. I understand, it's so easy to make something that nearly happened or we wanted to happen into a tale of something that actually happened. I won't do that. My incest fantasies were set by a number of "near-cest" experiences in my youth. They stoked my continuing fascination with others experiences.
1) When I was a child I would sometimes be left with my widowed grandmother for a weekend. I would sleep in the bed with her. This was in the days before she had air conditioning and summer nights could be hot and I would wear only a loose, over-sized t-shirt as my pajamas. By the time I was 4 or 5 I had learned that if I twisted and turned enough in the bed beside Grandma she would try to still me by lightly rubbing my chest and belly. Her fingers would lightly trace over my chest, go down around my belly, and on to my upper thighs. It was pleasant, almost a tickle and it instantly kept me still. What I really loved though was when her fingers reached my knee and began their trace upward they would slowly come up my inner thigh and almost but not quite touch my scrotum and penis. I remember I even opened my legs hoping to cause her to touch me there. Every now and then her fingers would go over my penis--that was a thrill. I think at first it would only be an accident, but I think she caught on to what I was doing and would sometimes do it on purpose just as a tease. I wanted her to stop and tease it more, but she never would. That all stopped when I was 6 or 7 and I had to sleep in a separate bed.
2) When we had family gatherings at my Grandma's house there would be a big extended family--aunts, uncles, cousins-- there with only one bathroom. When I was 11 or 12 I went into the bathroom to pee. It was summer, so I was wearing only loose shorts with an elastic band and I simply pull the shorts down and was standing before the toilet and had just started to pee when my aunt, my mother's younger sister, she was around 30 at the time, stepped out of the shower buck naked. With all the other noise of the nearby kitchen, kids' racket, etc., I had not noticed the shower being on and she had not heard me enter. I was in mid-pee and was afraid to move, so I just stared at her, boobs, bush and all. She, in initial shock, I suppose, just stood there looking at me, her mouth and eyes wide open.
"Sorry," I said as I kept peeing but didn't move. Her initial freeze quickly vanished because she had to come toward me to reach a towel. I was interested in her body, but not shocked because being naked around the bathroom was not unusual among my own family. I don't know what she thought, but beyond the initial surprise, she didn't seem particularly perturbed. In fact, she almost grinned, didn't rush to cover herself, and kept staring at my little dick. As she calmly wrapped a big towel around her she said, "Well, I see you're growing up."
I had stopped peeing now, but was frozen in place not knowing if I was going to be in trouble or not--and also liking what I was seeing! Now with a knowing look, she took a step closer, still clearly looking at my man-worm, and said, "You better put that up and get outta here so I can dry off."
As I pulled my shorts up, she grinned. She might have known from the look on my face that I thought I was going to be in trouble because she said as I went out the door, "Don't worry. I didn't know you'd come in. I won't say anything." That was a relief and not else was ever said, but the memory of my aunt's nice boobs and bush remain with me today.
3) When I was 13 or 14, I was staying an afternoon with my youngest cousin and his mother, my mother's youngest sister. I think she had been a handful in her younger days and was still the most unconventional of the three sisters. She was really pretty and had a good body that I think she was proud of keeping in shape. That afternoon my youngest cousin, Mike, and I were in the back yard playing with his toys while Aunt Lisa sunbathed in a two-piece bathing suit (hardly a bikini in those days). She was lying on her stomach and had un-hooked her top to avoid having a strap mark across her back. I was letting Mike play with his toys while I pretended to play but kept a keen eye on Aunt Lisa. I was a horny little dude and was hoping for a glance at her boobs.
Every time she would look our way, I'd try to glance away, but she caught me staring a couple of times. Finally, a knowing look on her face, she lifted herself as if to turn over, let her boobs drop down to give a good, quick show, then pulled up her top to turn over. She hooked the top at the back and stood up to go inside. She gave a slight grin under an arched eyebrow as she walked by and said, "Having a good time playing with Mike?" That was it. She went in, changed clothes, and nothing else was said about it. Still, I've got the image of Aunt Lisa's hanging tits.
4) When I was 16 or 17 I had two girl cousins come to stay with us for a week. I lived in a small rural community and they were from a big city. The oldest, Rita, was 14 and her sister, Sally, was 12. What happened made me think they were both were more street-wise than I. I thought Rita was cute, already getting a nice body on her, but I don't remember having actually thought of fucking her--until this happened!
We were sitting on the porch talking about something light hearted when Rita grinned and said, "You need to get some bigger jeans."
"Why?" I said, confused. Then I followed her eyes that were looking directly at my crotch.
I was wearing jeans that fit, but sitting as I was, they were pulled tight at the crotch. My dick and balls, gathered in my jockey shorts, were making an impressive bulge and she had focused in on it. With a wry grin the 14 year-old cutie actually reached over, poked the bulge with her finger, and said. "This. You're too big for your britches," and laughed at her joke.
At that age, I had, in fact, already developed a good 7.5 incher and it was often in a sufficiently turgid condition to cause a bulge. She had me. I didn't know what to say, so I tried to shift and said, "It's not the pants."
She grinned again and said, "Then it must be this," and she poked again, this time with two fingers that lingered a bit on my now stiffening package. I was not socially skilled enough to know how to carry this off, so I stood and laughed her off. I changed the subject feeling somewhat embarrassed at my erectile condition and frustrated my lack of knowing how to convert my desire to follow this up into an action that might achieve it. That was the end of it, but I've wondered ever since and every time I see Rita whether she would have gone further then or if she was interested in a fuck the many times we met later.