Imperial Favor

My breasts, capable of changing shape,
are the foundation of my harem's favorites. My first love is the most unforgettable, hence Aunt Miao tops the list of my harem's most beloved. My romantic history is long and detailed. As for my background, I'm just a poor student. I
barely finished junior high and went on to the "university of life." My parents hoped I would succeed, placing all their hopes on me, and I failed them. My older sister, who believed that a woman's virtue lay in her lack of talent, graduated from university and works as a senior executive in a listed company—a powerful woman. I paled in comparison, my performance lacking.
But I was born with talent, and I made my way in this glamorous world. Every profession has its master, and because I have a knack for understanding the countless worries women have, I quickly mastered the craft. My keen understanding of women's feelings is just as important as my skills, allowing me not only to smooth their hair but also to capture their lonely hearts and yearning bodies.
Now, I'm one of the top hairstylists in the city.
The city's famous courtesans, including daughters of prominent families, celebrities, and powerful businesswomen, have all been captivated by my "riding skills" and taken under my wing. This isn't a paid service; my bedroom activities are just casual "friendship sports" in my spare time.
"Sports sports" here refers to playing ball games. I played with their breasts, they played with my genitals
—purely friendly banter, a game in nature. I run a hair salon, not a brothel; my professionalism is respected by my women, I must state that first.
The beauties in my household are different from the women in my "harem." Those "harem favorites" are women with whom I already have a very close relationship, even those with a formal title. For unspoken reasons, only women with whom I already have a very close relationship can be included in my "harem." To put it bluntly, it's a double-marriage arrangement.
The first one I want to mention is Aunt Miao; our relationship is always incredibly exciting, naked and fiery. Because she was my first love.
She's a "younger version" of my mother. My mother's name is "Ah Jiao," and hers is "Ah Miao," a few years younger than my mother. We share the same parents, but our personalities are completely different. She does everything my mother wouldn't do. She dresses sexy and fashionable, loves trendy gadgets and pop music, is playful and doesn't study hard, and takes me to parties and shopping. I idolized her during my teenage years, but my mother complained that she had a bad influence on me.
I grew up with her cleavage visible.
When I was little, she would lean on me, her unbra-free breasts swaying at her low-cut neckline, looking like they were about to spill water. Childhood photos show me clinging to her long, shapely legs under her miniskirt like a little monkey. Her skirt would flare out like an umbrella, and I would sneak inside to block the sun. The first scent of womanhood I ever smelled in my memory was a recurring theme in my pursuit of women.
Why is Aunt Miao a childhood friend I can remember? It's all thanks to my mother's arrangement. Every time Aunt Miao visited, my mother would send her to take me shopping. Aunt Miao's beautiful, white legs were so dazzling that they would make my father stare at them with lust.
The summer I entered sixth grade, I started to grow taller. Aunt Miao still treated me like a child, holding my hand as we went out. We seemed to have no generation gap, and even the neighbors mistakenly thought I was dating. I started staring blankly at the sexy bikinis on the beach, but she ignored me and instead exposed her figure more and more, attracting men's attention. In the primordial chaos, amidst the shimmering light and shadows of her hips, I recognized Aunt Miao as the most beautiful.
Most irresistible was her fiery red lips. The scorching sun and my fantasies about the female form left me parched.
I told Aunt Miao, who was lying face down sunbathing, that I wanted some water. She didn't respond, seemingly asleep. I found a fountain and gulped down a mouthful, when suddenly a familiar little mouth appeared, spraying water like tongues of fire, sharing my drink. My heart pounded unexpectedly, and my face flushed crimson.
The owner of those red lips was Aunt Miao!
After drinking, she straightened up. Two breasts, dangling heavily from the half-cup swimsuit, stretched out, almost like a wave crashing over them, before slowly rising, their ripples returning to their hemispherical shape.
She casually tossed her long hair, adjusted her bra straps and the askew cups, slightly calming the ripples of her breasts, and smiled sweetly at me.
I didn't understand what it meant; perhaps she saw me blushing.
That night, I had a beautiful dream. A dream? I didn't do anything; I didn't know anything about sex, meaning there was no scene of sex in my dream. Just dreaming of her red lips, her beautiful legs, and her large, stretching breasts made me excited, and I had a nocturnal emission.
From then on, she became my dream girl, and following the plots of movies and erotic novels, I made love to Aunt Miao until she turned my dream into reality.
I
was willing to be looked down upon by others. In my father's eyes, I was a good-for-nothing, a good-for-nothing. My mother always compared my academic performance with my older sister's; I was simply not cut out for studying. I preferred to be a child who never grew up in front of Aunt Miao, worried that growing taller would mean losing many advantages. In fact, I knew more than my peers and had seen more of the world, thanks to Aunt Miao for taking me out to see so much.
Aunt Miao probably hadn't noticed that her little nephew was growing up, and her curvaceous body would create all sorts of lewd fantasies for me. Moreover, her sexy attire aroused my curiosity about her mysterious female body.
What I couldn't understand was why Aunt Miao, my mother, and my sister, all women, wore such alluring colors of underwear and bras? And why were their styles so novel and eye-catching? Whether she wore a bra or not became something I cared about. Sometimes when she wore a bra, the cleavage between her breasts would be deeper or narrower, making the difference immediately noticeable. So, whenever I was about to see her, I would start guessing what color her underwear was under her skirt? Was she going braless? Of course, I would put in some effort to peek and check.
I preferred Aunt Miao not wearing a bra; when she walked towards me, the surging waves of her breasts would crash against the shore, quite a thrilling sight.
The most beautiful scene was when I teased her and she threw a coquettish tantrum. She crossed her arms over her chest, feigning seriousness as she scolded me, but this only made her large breasts appear even more prominent.
As she berated me, I didn't look at her mouth, but stared at her two nipples, which seemed ready to burst through her clothes at any moment. Her breasts, hanging in front of her chest, trembled incessantly with her tone and agitation, the sharp nipples like two bullets aimed at my eyes.
Of course, my little thing down there, receiving the signal from Aunt Miao's two peaks, immediately rose automatically like a car antenna, as high as its crotch allowed.
This punishment, which I had to fight tooth and nail to obtain, I didn't want her to stop. But Aunt Miao kept scolding and scolding, and seeing my grinning face, completely unrepentant, she finally realized she'd fallen for my trick. I had deliberately provoked her.
I wasn't worried about finding a way to see what was under her underwear. When she sat down, if she folded her legs, they would form crossed lines, drawing attention to that mysterious place under her skirt. Her two long legs, the curved lines flowing upwards from her calves, would appear very sensual. I would rack my brains to find the right angle, usually a low angle, to admire her beautiful legs. My aesthetic sense might have been honed from that time.
Under her skirt, where her snow-white buttocks were partially exposed, a small strip of cloth covering her urination area, was the most visually appealing pose of Aunt Miao's thighs.
If Aunt Miao sat still in that position, I could even see her slender hairs. Her two jade-like legs were probably too long; sitting on my large sofa, she didn't know where to place them and often folded them over. In that fleeting moment, or if she inadvertently parted her knees, even just a small gap, the triangular piece of fabric deep inside her thighs, whatever its color, would transform into the gaping maw of a giant dragon, spewing out a ball of fire that lunged straight at me.
Whether I guessed right or wrong, I was happy. Because the point of the show wasn't my prediction, but the process of finding the answer.
My blatant peeping always bothered my nosy older sister. Whenever I was engrossed in watching, she'd expose me in front of Aunt Miao and Mom, "Avi, what are you looking at?"
"Nothing."
"I clearly saw you secretly looking under Aunt Miao's skirt. That's impolite."
"It's not you I was looking at."
I wouldn't back down, so she'd complain to Mom. Mom spoiled me and never scolded me. She'd glance at Aunt Miao, who didn't seem to mind and sometimes would smooth things over by telling me to go to her.
My sister pouted in annoyance and said, "I don't have such a lewd brother." Aunt Miao's peculiarity lay in the fact that she often brought me along when she was dating, making me a "third wheel" (a light bulb, implying being caught in the middle of other people's romantic encounters). Aunt Miao had many boyfriends, and I knew all of them, like butterflies flitting among flowers, pursuing her. My mother was very worried that Aunt Miao would never get married and often inquired about her love life through me. Of course, although I knew who she was dating, I had no idea who she was actually dating.
Aunt Miao's dates with her boyfriends were scenes that were inappropriate for children, one after another.
In the dark theater, her boyfriend unscrupulously touched her slender and naked thighs under her short skirt, or he somehow inserted his hands into the vacuum inside her, taking her plump and soft breasts in his hands and rubbing them. When I heard Aunt Miao keep saying in her boyfriend's ear, "No, no, no," my little nephew was right next to me. At this time, I knew that a good show was on, and no matter how exciting and tight the scenes on the screen were, they couldn't attract me.
I have seen a man. Aunt Miao seemed to like him very much. She didn't say no and asked him to take off her underwear. This can only be done if Auntie Miao cooperates fully and moves her hips to accommodate. The man's hand lifted up her short skirt and penetrated deep into Aunt Miao's thigh, squirming constantly.
Aunt Miao's legs were spread wide, as if she was enjoying being molested. In the light reflected from the screen, I saw a pair of dreamy eyes, pretending to watch a play.
I once thought of a difficult intellectual question: In the dark, could a woman identify who was touching her thigh by the touch of her palm? I really hoped to have the chance to try it on Aunt Miao's thigh. That would be so exciting.
That summer, when I discovered Aunt Miao's fiery red lips, she asked me to accompany her to a friend's party at a secluded beach. They had rented a vacation home, where they barbecued and danced.
When we arrived, I found that two of her boyfriends were there at the same time.
Before, at these events, I only cared about eating my fill. Nosy people would come and ask me—about my relationship with Aunt Miao. There was a rumor among them that I was Aunt Miao's son. These people tried to subtly probe for the truth. When I told them the truth, they didn't believe me.
As for the party, before we even arrived, I sensed Aunt Miao was a little nervous, unlike her usual cheerful demeanor.
During the barbecue, when Aunt Miao saw those two men, she acted like she'd met her nemesis and immediately tried to leave. The hosts seemed to feel important enough to keep her there, so she didn't dare leave. Aunt Miao wanted me to sit next to her the whole time, grilling for her, while she just kept drinking beer. Aunt Miao was extremely cold towards her two boyfriends, refusing their advances and refusing to dance with either of them.
To avoid their harassment, she reluctantly made me her dance partner.
I'm ashamed to say that I'd been to dances with Aunt Miao before, only to be served food and soda, and never actually danced. I was too short; no one paid me any attention, I could only watch from the sidelines.
Aunt Miao and I stood face to face. She noticed I'd grown a little taller since summer vacation started, still a head shorter than her, but I could reach her chest by standing on tiptoe. She pulled me closer, and when we were close, she placed my hands on her slender waist, telling me to hug her. She was wearing low-rise jeans, the waistband slipping down as she swayed her hips, and my hand took the opportunity to slide down, taking advantage of her, touching a section of smooth skin.
But before me, a pair of peaks so high they seemed to pierce the clouds, beyond the reach of a thin-strapped tank top, were meeting me at the closest distance I'd ever been since I was born. My nose could practically sink into her deep cleavage. I saw her bra; it was a lace-trimmed bra, and I could see the entire outline of her breasts, concealed within the cups.
The air conditioner in the holiday home seemed weak, and the loudspeaker, blasting at full volume, made the singer's voice sound hoarse. Aunt Miao's body temperature rose, and she leaned closer to me, sweat beading on her forehead and cleavage. Aunt Miao's breasts swayed to the music, and I danced in sync with their movements, surprisingly in perfect harmony. Aunt Miao wondered where I learned to dance. I said I learned by observation, memorizing the rhythms and movements whenever I saw others performing various dance steps.
And her breasts were practically instructing me on how to sway.
Her two boyfriends, each holding a beer bottle, were watching intently. Aunt Miao tried to remain calm, glancing around every now and then to keep an eye on their movements. I thought, although I enjoyed dancing with Aunt Miao's large breasts pressed against my face, she couldn't dance with me all night to escape them, and I was tired too.
Just then, the host stopped the music and announced the end of the party. He said, "Next program begins. Every lady present must sleep with a man, or else she'll be arguing with him and angering him."
It turned out that everyone present was a couple. The host himself already had a female companion, leaving only Aunt Miao, her two boyfriends, and me.
Clearly, the host was standing up for the two men, wanting Aunt Miao to confront them.
“Ah Miao, they are both my old friends, and you are also good friends with them. I’ll be happy whichever one you choose. I’ll save the best room and bed for you to enjoy,” the host said to Aunt Miao with a smile.
Aunt Miao looked troubled and said to the host of the party, "Elder brother, we came out to have fun, so we can't force ourselves. Could you allow me to skip this game tonight?"
"Ah Miao, do you think I'm putting you in a difficult position? You call me elder brother, don't you give me any face at all? This is our old rule, and you've been here before, so there's no reason to refuse. You must choose someone to sleep with. If you don't get chosen, you can't blame anyone else. If you're upset, go home and cut yourself."
I had never seen anything like this before. Even at my young age, I could smell the gunpowder. I was trembling with fear and felt the urge to urinate, so I leaned against Aunt Miao. She took my sweaty hand and held it tightly. Without looking at the two men, she said to the person who gave the order: "You said that I must choose a man tonight?"
"As long as I choose a man to sleep with me, you will be satisfied."
"You are right. I want to explain that I am afraid that you will deny it. Sleeping means having sex (making love) with him. Do you understand? You have done it before, and for my sake, do it again tonight."
"Okay, it's settled." Aunt Miao's eyes swept over the two anxious-looking men. Aunt Miao paused, looked over at me, and then said to the boss: "Tonight, I will have sex with him..."

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