Auntie’s Little Secret Shopper

Freshie was already on her knees the second her cousins finally knocked out. Sleepover rules said lights out after midnight, but she’d spent the whole day being a perfect little angel in front of everyone else just so she could get Auntie alone. The soft pink floral set she’d snuck into the bathroom earlier was already riding up; the ribbon ties on the panties kept slipping against her thighs every time she shifted, and the thin camisole did absolutely nothing to hide how her tits were spilling out the top every time she breathed. Hands pressed together like she was praying, big brown eyes locked up on the phone, freckles burning across her cheeks.

“Auntie, please… just this once. Mom and Dad said I’m ‘too young’ for Victoria’s Secret, but I’m eighteen. Look how cute the pink one is. And the black one underneath it? I’d wear that one for you.”

Auntie stood there in her oversized sweater, mug forgotten in one hand, phone held out so Freshie could see the screen. She’d always told herself the little stares she caught were nothing. Just an aunt noticing her niece had grown up fast. But Freshie had been walking around the house all night in tiny shorts and thin tank tops, and now she was kneeling on the bed like this—thighs spread just enough that the ribbon bows were the only thing keeping those panties from falling open, soft belly soft and warm-looking, cleavage deep enough that Auntie could see the little bow on the camisole straining. The bi-curious thoughts she’d shoved down for years were suddenly very loud.

She’s not even blood. My husband is her dad’s brother, not me. And she’s on her knees begging me to buy her lingerie while she’s already dressed like she wants me to peel it off her…

“Those ties look like they’re one tug from coming undone,” Auntie said, voice lower than she meant it to be. “You sure you can even walk around in something that tiny without flashing everyone?”

Freshie bit her lip, shifting her weight so the panties pulled tighter between her legs. “I don’t care if people see. I just want you to see. If you get me the black one… I’ll try it on right here. You can check the fit. Make sure it sits right on me.”

Auntie’s thumb hovered over the screen. She could already picture those same ribbon ties in black, the way the lace would sit against Freshie’s freckled skin, how easy it would be to hook a finger under one and pull. Freshie’s hands stayed clasped, but her eyes kept flicking down to Auntie’s mouth, then lower, like she was already imagining where this was going once the cousins were really asleep.

“Say please again,” Auntie murmured, stepping closer so the phone was almost touching Freshie’s chest. “And keep your hands exactly where they are.”

Freshie swallowed, thighs pressing together for a second before she forced them back open. “Please, Auntie… buy me the black set. Then tell me how you want me to wear it for you.”