How I Bagged a Cougar

How I Bagged a Cougar

by Robert Lubrican

Censored Edition

Copyright 2025 Robert Lubrican

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Bookapy.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Rights to use cover art purchased from iStock.com

******

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

 

 

Foreword: Writing a coming of age novel in America these days is difficult. That’s because certain elements of society (the ones who threaten to sue publishers) want to believe that no teenager experiments with sex until after he or she is eighteen years old. So they demand that no book be published in which characters under that age engage in sexual behavior. Never mind that the age of consent is sixteen in half the country. Never mind that it isn’t illegal to write or publish books in which characters who are fifteen through eighteen act like real teens. So ideas (even fictional ones) in which the characters reflect real life simply aren’t allowed. Because of that, you are notified that all characters in this book are eighteen years of age or older. If the context makes a character seem younger than that, it’s an accident. If the story doesn’t make any sense, that’s because people have succeeded in censorship in America.

You are also reminded, however, that they can’t censor your thoughts.

Instructions for obtaining an uncensored version of this book are at the end.

Bob

*****

Chapter One

I was working on the last term paper I'd have to do in high school when I heard the back door open and close, and the voice of my mom's sister, rang out.

"Hey! Anybody home?"

I heard my mom's voice answer and bits of conversation, though I couldn't understand what was being said. I didn't think much about it until I felt a presence at my bedroom doorway. I looked up to see Aunt Connie standing there, leaning against the door jamb. She had been in my life forever. I knew she was younger than my mother, but not how much.

Aunt Connie and I had one of those strange kid/adult relationships that sometimes happen. When I was born, she was my first babysitter. She was over at our house all the time, to see my mom, and I had mowed her lawn since I was about eleven. She had gone to picnics and concerts with us. So I saw her more than just about any other adult. Except for some of my teachers, maybe. The point is that she was the only female adult in my life other than my mom. And she was the only woman in my life who I was really familiar with, and who kidded around with me, and talked to me for more than two minutes at a time.

Of course that meant she was also the only female in my life who I had the chance to really study as my male hormones kicked in.

So, when I looked at her this time, I felt the familiar tingle in my groin that I'd been feeling every time I'd seen her since I turned fifteen. I think that was when my ability to have really good fantasies kicked in. And, believe me, Aunt Connie was easy to have them about.

Of course I knew I'd be in serious trouble if anybody knew I sometimes imagined her naked. Not that she was married or anything. She wasn't. She'd had a boyfriend for something like ten years, but they had broken up. But she was an adult, and I was a senior in high school. I might be eighteen, and able to vote, and there might only be three weeks left before graduation, but that didn't mean squat to my parents in terms of me claiming to be an adult, too. I got the feeling there was this secret rule that you weren't grown up until your parents pronounced you to be grown up.  And my folks had plans for me before they were going to say I was grown up.  They wanted me to go to college, for example. I wasn't so hot on the college idea. I mean I didn't know what to major in, or anything. But, if I went, maybe then they'd believe I was grown up.

But back to my tingle. Aunt Connie was just staring at me. Her arms were folded under her breasts, which kind of put them on display, you know? She had nice ones, even bigger than my mom's, which were as good as any I'd ever seen in a Playboy. Not that she knew I had seen them, but one time when she was wearing just a robe, dad had snuck up behind her, pulled it open, and cupped them. I was down the hallway, so they couldn't see me, but I could see them, and I got a clear view of him holding them up. All I could think was, I sucked on those when I was a baby!

I tried not to look at her breasts. I was kind of tongue tied.

"Hi Champ," she said. She'd called me Champ ever since I won the hundred yard dash when I was twelve. It was the only race I'd ever won.

"Hi," I said weakly.

"Guess what," she said.

"I don't know," I replied.

"I didn't ask you what you know," she said, smiling. "I told you to guess what."

"How am I supposed to know what to guess?" I asked, frustrated. My cock was getting harder and harder, and she was teasing me.

"What's gotten you all riled up?" she asked, standing up and dropping her arms.

I couldn't very well tell her that she was what had me all riled up, so I just looked away.

"Nothing. I'm trying to write a paper. It's my last one and it isn't going all that good."

"Well its Friday night, you goose," she said, laughing. "You shouldn't be doing homework now. You should be out kicking up your heels. Save the homework for Sunday night."

"I like to get it done so I don't have to worry about it," I said, only glancing at her.

"A laudable sentiment," she said gravely. "But I need a favor, and your mom said it was okay for me to ask you."

"What kind of favor?" I asked.

"I need you to come to my house and take some pictures."

I looked at her. "Pictures? What of?"

"Not 'what of'," she said. "Of whom."

"Whom of?" I asked.

She laughed.

"Me, silly."

******

I'd joined the photography club at school when I was a freshman. Since then, my folks had gotten me a really nice camera, a Nikon D3 700 SLR. That means single lens reflex, but that's not important unless you're into photography like I am. Suffice it to say it's a good camera that takes really quality shots. I had saved my allowance and lawn mowing money, and gotten more lenses and filters and a good flash unit for it, so it was a decent setup. I'd even had a couple of my landscapes published on one of the Farm Bureau web pages.

So here I was, lugging all my stuff into Aunt Connie's house, which was on the other side of town from where we lived. Not that it took us long to get there. The other side of town was only a ten minute walk if you walked briskly, I was born and raised in Granite City, just like my parents, and Aunt Connie.

when we got there she led me into the den and said, "How about in here?"

I was lost.

All I knew was that I was going to be taking pictures of her. I didn't know what they were for, or what style of pictures she wanted or anything.

"What for?" I asked. I was still kind of tongue tied. My cock was still half hard. Aunt Connie had a fine butt, and I had been watching it all the way into the house.

She turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised. I realized she had on bright red lipstick, just like I had seen in a commercial the night before. I remembered wondering what kind of woman would actually wear bright red lipstick like that, because I couldn't think of any woman I'd seen in real life who did. Now I realized I knew one ... and I was with her!

"'What for' what?" she asked.

"The pictures," I blurted. "What for?"

"Oh!" she said brightly. "Well ... it's a little awkward, I suppose. I didn't explain it all to your mother. She wouldn't understand. But you're all grown up and almost a man, and I know I can depend on you to be ... um ... discreet ... right, Bobby?" She only called me Bobby when it was serious.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wanted to please her so I nodded.

"Excellent!" she cooed. "They're for a new dating site I'm trying out."

"Dating site," I parroted.

"Yes, you know ... a place to find a date?" She grimaced. "Of course you wouldn't know anything about that. A handsome young man like yourself would never have to resort to a dating service to meet girls."

"Dating service?" I asked, confused. "You're using a dating service?"

Her face went still. "Yes ... why?"

I might not have been the best when it came to dealing with girls ... women ... but I knew the danger sound when I heard it, and it was in her voice when she said that. She confirmed it by going on.

"I suppose you think that's a complete waste of time ... that I'll never get a date."

I felt a rush of blood suffuse my face. My tongue came untied. Unfortunately my brain wasn't up to the task of governing my now loose tongue.

"Are you fucking crazy?" I blurted.

Her frown deepened, and I suddenly realized I had dropped the F bomb on an adult. And a woman to boot.

"I had no idea I was such a hag," she said stiffly.

My brain farted again.

"Oh, shit, Aunt Connie, give me a break!" I moaned. "You're anything but a hag."

Her eyebrows relaxed a bit. She looked interested, suddenly, instead of mad.

"My, my, but you have developed a potty mouth. We’ll talk about that later, though. What do you mean, exactly?"

I reviewed what had slipped out of my mouth, thanks to my loose tongue and farting brain. Basically, I had suggested that my mom's sister, and best friend, was as hot as I thought she was.

I had told the truth. I was doomed.

"Exactly?" I croaked.

"Yes, Robert," she said, taking a step closer to me. "If I'm not a hag ... what am I?"

I thought furiously, but I didn't have a lot of time before I responded.

"Well ... you're the kind of woman who for sure doesn't need a dating service to get a man's attention," I said. It didn't quite come out like it sounded in my mind before I spoke the words. I closed my eyes.

"Why thank you!" she chirped, to my astonishment. "I knew you'd understand and be supportive. But this dating site is having a contest and I want to win it, and I need you to take the photographs for me for that to happen." She smiled brightly.

"Contest," I said.

"Yes," she said. "It's a contest to decide who's the sexiest new member to join this month. They're going to pick a male and a female winner, and those two will get to use the site free."

She had just told me I was going to be taking "sexy" pictures. It should be instructive for you, in terms of understanding how rattled I was at that moment, when you understand that I responded with:

"But you don't need to do that to get a date. You could have any man you want!"

Her smile was brilliant.

"I knew this was a good idea," she said. Then she put one hand on her hip and struck a pose. "Did I mention there's also ten thousand dollars for first place? I'll split it with you if I win."

******

Twenty minutes later my brain was back on track. Not only was I going to get a chance to see Aunt Connie in "sexy" poses, whatever that meant, but there could be some real money in it too. I think it was thinking about what I could do with five thousand dollars that got me functioning again. I could get a car! But I had done enough photography and entered enough contests to know there were rules and protocols, so I asked her to pull up the site so I could see them.

"We don't have time for all that, Champ," she said breezily. "Your mother said I can have you until eleven, but then I have to send you home."

"I have to know what kind of photos we're supposed to take," I insisted.

"That's easy," she said. "There are three sets. One is in evening gown. One is in swim suit. And the other is ... um … shall we say, au naturel?"

I blinked. "Oh shit," I whispered.

"Don't freak out, Champ," she said, her hands coming to my shoulders. "Nobody will ever find out you took them. Your mom will never know. They're just for this contest, and nobody in this one-horse town will ever see them."

"Naked?" I whined.

"Come on, Bobby," she wheedled. "You're a big boy now. It won't be that bad. I thought you said I was pretty."

I still didn't think it was time for me to inform my mom's sister that I routinely dreamed of her naked, on her back, legs spread and arms open wide in welcome, as I hovered over her, ready to ram my rampant manhood in her soft, clasping sex.

No. Definitely not time for that yet.

"You are pretty," I said. "That's kind of the problem." I blinked. That had actually come out pretty good!

Her hands stopped on my shoulders. They squeezed gently.

"You'll be fine," she said. "Just take the pictures ... and everything will be fine."

******

Actually, the evening gown session wasn't all that bad. That was mainly because she had awful taste in evening gowns, and seemed to think that poofy and lace was all the rage. She had two gowns and both of them made her look like she weighed at least fifty pounds more than she actually did. Of course that didn't bode all that well for the money, and of course that loosened my tongue again.

"Do you have anything more form fitting?" I asked, after I finished shooting the second dress. "Something that would complement your figure better?"

"My bikini will do that," she said, frowning slightly.

I heard the danger sound again. "Got it," I said.

She left the den and I fiddled with the sheet that I had hung up as a backdrop. I rearranged the extra lighting. I had made my own hair light and it was working well. She had the perfect hair for it, that shiny reddish brown hair that a hair light gives golden tints to.

When she came back into the room, I just stood there, shocked.

We have a municipal pool, which is where everybody in town goes swimming, so I had seen Aunt Connie in a swimsuit before. She had several suits she wore there, one of which was a bikini. It was white with flowers on it.

But that wasn't the bikini she was wearing now.

This one was bright yellow. Well, it was either bright yellow, or I was seeing spots from the flash.

Because all that was covering her body were yellow spots. There were two spots up high and a longer, thinner one down there. She spun in a circle and the spots disappeared completely. Man! She had a fine ass! It was perfect for a G-string.

"What do you think?" she asked, her voice high. "Does this show off my figure?"

If I'd have been listening to her tone of voice, I'd have heard nervous. Instead, I think I might have drooled just a little bit. I know I didn't say anything, because my mouth wouldn't work.  I did make some noises, one of which was a kind of groan as I felt my cock stiffen.

She laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." Again, if I'd have been listening on a deeper level, I'd have heard relief in her voice. But all I could concentrate on were those yellow spots.

The spots were actually triangles of thin cloth, attached to dental floss that held it artfully across her body, covering her nipples and her pubic hair. The back was only floss, and damned little of that. I snapped my fourth shot and realized I was as hard in my pants as I'd ever been in my entire life. But she was looking right at me, so I couldn't do anything to adjust things. And she was good at looking at me, too. You know that look that the Playboy models have? That look that says, "Want me? You can have me." She had that look. I stopped worrying about the frumpy gowns. Any man who didn't vote for this as the best was fucking blind.

It was as I took a shot of her looking over her shoulder at me, eyes smoldering, come-hither look making my balls ache that I fully realized I was going to be doing this with her naked.