Auntie Jane was widowed when I was a young boy. As far as I know she never did remarry, but I lost touch after she moved away, so I can't say for sure. She had been married to my Uncle, my Mother's older brother, who sadly lost his life in a car accident at a very young age. She had no children of her own and she had always spoilt me as a child - every time we went to visit she always gave me a ten shilling note as we departed. Over the years I developed a soft spot for her and would often go around to run errands for her, for which I was always amply financially rewarded.
At the age of 18, I was somewhat saddened to hear of Auntie Jane's decision to move away, but I was glad to help her out with her packing in the summer of 1969. She had asked my parents first and obviously they had no objections as there was so much to do and she had no "man about the house". And so it was arranged one weekend in August that I would go to her house on Saturday morning and help pack up all her belongings, working all day and staying over and then return home the next day in time for Sunday dinner. It was a humid, clammy day, warm, but overcast and I was pleased to eventually get inside her house where it was more comfortable that Saturday, after first going round to the corner shop to scrounge as many empty cardboard boxes as possible.
Looking at Jane, she was kind of pretty, in her late thirties slim with straight dark brown hair cut to the bottom of her neck and large brown eyes. She was always dressed smart, probably because she worked in a library, nothing fancy, but a nice blouse and a fairly tight knee-length skirt. I suppose I was looking at her with more adult eyes now, in contrast to when I was a young boy, who only saw her as "Auntie Jane"?
Anyway, after a quick mug of tea, we began packing in earnest and during the course of the day had got nearly all of her belongings boxed up and she then sent me round to the local chippies for cod and chips twice for our tea and we continued packing afterwards, finally finishing around 10 pm, when she rewarded me with some red wine from a bottle she opened. She knew that I already drank, as I told her of cider parties that I used to go to with my friends to play LP's (and snog and pet girls there, but I didn't tell her that detail, obviously!) That evening the sky had gotten very dark and the clouds looked very imposing. We thought that we were going to get some rain after a few warm, dry, sunny days. Anyway, after such a long day and after a couple of glasses of wine, I found myself getting tired, so decided to retire for the night, so I said my "Goodnights", Jane gave me a big "smacker" on the lips and thanked me so much for help that day and I wandered off to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. The spare room didn't have much in it, a single bed, a chair and a cabinet.
I undressed, it was still warm and close, so I took my tee-shirt off and climbed into bed in just my underpants. It wasn't long before I was out like a light.
But it seemed like I had only just dropped off (when, in fact, it had actually been nearly a couple of hours) when I was rudely awoken by a loud crashing bang! I sat up, looked around and a few moments later the bedroom was illuminated by a blue flash, followed a few seconds later by another loud bang and a rumble. Then I heard rain absolutely gushing down. The thunderstorm was very close to the house, if not directly overhead. So, I lay back down and tried to drop off again, but it was so noisy that I was unable to. A few minutes later there was a tap on the door and it opened and Jane came in wearing a knee-length nightie and she placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "John, are you awake?"
I said, "Yes, it woke me up."
She sat on the edge of the bed and asked me, "John, can I get in with you? I am terrified of thunder."
I was taken aback, but somehow managed to get the words out, "Of course you can. If you want?" Butterflies started going through my stomach as she climbed in. There was very little room in the single bed and I could feel every contour of her body touching my own skin.
"Hold me, John", she said. "Hug me tight." She was actually trembling and I did as she requested to comfort her. We were practically face to face and feeling her breasts pressed against me through the nightie sent an electric message to my penis, which I felt starting to get aroused. I tried desperately for this not to happen, as she would obviously be able to feel it through my underpants. So I started to try and think of football, recounting team members in my mind. Anything to stop these feelings, which I knew were wrong. Wrong, but exciting and nice. More exciting than ANYTHING that I had ever felt before. But still I tried to push any feelings and thoughts of desire out of my mind. And to some degree it was quite successful, I was starting to calm down a bit. But that was about to change...
I noticed that her shaking had died down, but she was breathing heavy. "Thanks, John", she said, "I am feeling a lot safer now." The storm was moving further away by now, but she asked, "Can I still stay here with you for a while?"
"Of course you can!" I said. Truth be told I was really enjoying holding her tight.
"You are so good to me", she said and kissed me on the lips. Her lips were wet and this kiss felt different to any other she had given me. I could feel her hot breath on my mouth and we were just staring at each other in silence. Then she said, "Kiss me again, John. Kiss me passionately. Let's kiss as if we were lovers!" I knew that I shouldn't really, but I now wanted her so much that I couldn't stop myself and with our hungry mouths stuck together, tongues started to dart in and out of each other's willing mouths. This was heaven. This was bliss. And the feelings went straight down to my dick, which had become rock hard and I knew that she would be able to feel the bulge against her, but by now I just didn't care! Very soon one of her hands which had hitherto been caressing my naked back moved around to my front and she gave a playful light squeeze to my bulge and said, "You have grown up to be a big boy!"
"I'm sorry", I muttered, "I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop it. I tried for it not to..."
"Shhh", she said, putting a finger across my lips, "It's a compliment! It shows that I am desired!" and she kissed me furiously again.
Then she suddenly sat up and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Would you like to see my tits?"
"Not half!" I blurted out and she pulled her nightie up over her head and dropped it on the floor. By now, the sheet and blanket had slipped off the bottom of the bed, as if joining in and we were both naked except for our pants. She lay back down again on her back and put her hands behind her head and said, cheekily, "You can play with them if you like. Stroke them and squeeze them." I did just that and after a while she said to me, "Please kiss them. Lick and suck my nipples." Again I complied. I was absolutely loving this.