During the short drive I thought of turning around and forgetting about the whole thing. How could I go to Helena for help. After all those years and after our break-up. Desperation kept me driving till I got to her place. I looked at the house that I have known all too well. Time has been very kind to it; It looked better than I ever remembered it. Helena was a great decorator and even better gardener; She was good in all beautiful things. It showed in the lovely rose gardens circling the entrance to the house around interlocking stone.
I sat in the car and contemplated my dilemma. Trying not to think of all other beautiful things Helena was good at doing. She also was a beautiful woman. But, I still wished I did not make this visit.
It was dad's idea. "So, you lost your money for one excuse or another and need help?" He said between drinks. He seemed to enjoy rubbing it in. "Well, I got no money. Why don't you go to your aunt Helena, bet she still loves to see you." There was this devilish look of satisfaction in his face. At least he did not call her Art's whore, as he had done so many times in the past.
Yes, I had called her aunt Helena once. She never was my aunt, she was good friend of my parents. To my father, she was more than friends. "She's got money. When Art died he left her lots and luck added to her wealth. In case you haven't heard, she hit some jackpot or sumpin' a year or so ago. Smart woman she is played all the right cards. Tons of money she got."
It was humiliating enough to come to my parent's house with a girlfriend in tow. But for the first time in my life I was experiencing panic. The market crashed and suddenly the millions I had in stocks became worthless paper. I only had my Lexus left and enough money for few month.
Why did I come home at all?
I had vague ideas when I came back to my hometown.
Old man Bailey wanted to sell his store. The deal, if I can close it, would be a catch. However, there was a catch: I was short a couple of hundred G's for the bank to top-up. Few months ago I would have been able to buy it cash but today I am sitting in my luxury SUV wondering if I am sane. It was rumored Mr. Bailey, hampered by age, took a partner. When I met him he was a sharp as ever but bent under the weight of many years.
He remembered me; he did not mind selling to me but he had to check with someone. Her would not elaborate any further.
Sitting there in front of her house the memories flooded me.
I was much too young when I saw dad and "auntie" Helena in mom's room. They had given me money for candy and thought I had left. In hindsight, I suppose they were impatient to get started.
I knew they were doing something very naughty but did not know what it was.
I tiptoed and left the house
When I came back they were sitting in the kitchen, fully dressed and smoking.
It became a habit of me since that day to spy on them. In a childish way it was excitement. With time, I became good at it.
When puberty hit me she was in all my fantasies. I had a terrible case of acne as a teenager and the girls paid no mind to me. I thought I was ugly and dad confirmed this belief.
My paternal grandpa came to live with us and he was as kind as dad was cruel. Mom was around but somehow she did not help. She was busy working. I have to be kind to her. Dad's drinking was getting worse. Dad's contracting business was getting smaller and mom compensated. She worked as a nurse and was aging fast.
Few days after my eighteenth birthday my grandpa died and I was devastated. Aunt Helena was there when I was unable to stop crying and dad barked, "why don't you take this boy out of here Helena. I can't stand this crybaby."
Aunt Helena was married to "uncle" Art, who was dad's best friend, according to dad. He was older than dad or Helena. I liked uncle Arthur very much; he was very kind to me. He owned an auto-parts store, was shrewd with his money; he was getting wealthy as fast as we were getting poor. Dad was getting worse and when drunk, he bragged in graphic detail about what he did to Art's little whore. Mom just smiled and told him to watch his tongue in front of me.
Later, I would wonder why Helena kept her affair with him. I would eventually find out why, but for the longest time I just wondered.
That day, the day grandpa died, Aunt Helena ceased being Aunt once and for all. She took me home and served me a cold drink. The whole memory is a blur. Sitting in my fancy car in front of the same house I tried not to remember but it was like telling someone, "don't think of an elephant!" And so the memories kept rushing, especially that day's events.
She took me from the heat of my parents house to her place, about 15 minutes drive. Her and "uncle" Arthur's was a bigger home by the lake in the richest part of town. It was a hot, stifling and sticky summer day but felt breezier as we approached the lake area.
Getting inside her house, the place being air-conditioned, I felt a mild cold shock and sudden arousal. She put her arms around me and asked if I were cold. I felt the warmth of her lean body and felt a heat wave run through my spine. For years she been the woman of my fantasies and just being close to her I became so aware of my sexuality. I tried my best not to get hard.
She served me a cold drink and sat on the kitchen table in front of me.
When she bent slightly to comfort me with her hand on my neck I could see the cleavage between her breasts. I could smell her scent. I was losing my battle against the hard-on and losing it fast.
Her hand rubbed my shoulder and was murmuring comforting words about my late grandpa. I could not hear anything; I was lost in her, her scent, her body so close to me.
She must have seen what was happening to me and she pushed it. She bent forward farther and her hand rested on my thigh but that planted my nose in this soft scented valley between her breasts.
Then her hand kept moving ever so slowly and rubbed my now very bulging cock. She gasped something like, "did I do that?" I could not stop myself, I kissed her titts.
Suddenly she freed my cock faster than I could have done myself, with one hand. The other hand pushed my head deeper in her cleavage. "Suck my titts, chew them nipples off." She was panting and her hand working my cock expertly. I sucked one nipple. "Harder baby harder." I bit harder and she moved to allow me to suck the other nipple.
I was about to cum and she slid quickly off the table and I almost passed out when she took it full length in her mouth. In seconds I shot, and shot and kept shooting for a long time. Feeling so guilty for all this stuff in her mouth that I thought then was disgusting.
When I subsided she would not stop licking all over the shaft. I was young and never lost my erection even after all this climax. The silliest thought crossed my mind then: Since I came in her mouth not her pussy, would that mean I was still a virgin?
The issue was settled at once when she sat on my lap, facing me and urging me to keep chewing her nipples. Somewhere during all this we were both totally naked. In few minutes the question of my virginity was settled. It excited me to see that she turned totally rosy; her whole body turned rosy and she looked the most beautiful woman in the world.
The rest of the day we were in bed. I never stopped wanting her. She was very understanding and knew how awkward I was. She never embarrassed me.
