When he came down in the morning he found her dressed in a thick white cotton house coat and sitting at the kitchen table over a cup of coffee. She looked at him, cool and amused.
"What'll you have for breakfast," she asked, "There's most things." He saw a place had been laid for him.
"You didn't think I'd gone then?" he asked.
"The great detective saw your car was still outside the house."
He helped himself to orange juice and cereal.
"So," she said, maintaining her look of quiet amusement, "What would you like to do to-day? We could look around the town - a couple of interesting churches. Or there are some lovely walks, along the river, up onto the downs. While you think I'll make you some fresh coffee."
She stood up. Her housecoat was up to almost her neck, came down to her calves and concealed her figure. He was suddenly flushed with lust. He got up, grabbed her feeling for her shape under the shapeless coat, and kissed her abruptly. She did not open her mouth to his tongue, but backed off while holding him round the waist, keeping her cool."
"What's this? Enthusiasm for my ideas?"
"I want - I want to please you. This time."
"Do you? Please me? Yes, I suppose you could do that." She spoke thoughtfully, lingeringly. Then her hands pressed down over his bottom, slowly felt his buns, curved under to caress the swell of them from beneath. "Yes, I could adjust myself to that. I'll do your coffee then I'll go and have my shower. I'll think about just how you could please me. And when you're ready to go about it, just come up to my bedroom. You know where it is." She detached herself, busied herself at the kettle, put a fresh cafatière of coffee in front of him to brew, and vanished.
His ideas about how to please her were pretty straightforward, simplistic even, but his experience almost nil. After being overcome with lust, he was now apprehensive. She had been so good to him the evening before and he really did want to please her, but just what beyond the obvious might be involved and could he manage it?
Eventually he made his way into her room. She was seated at her dressing table, still in her house coat.
"Now," she said rising, "I've got just the thing for you to do that would really please me." She came and hugged him briefly, hand round the back of his head to stroke his hair. Then she went over to her big double bed, pulled the duvet off onto a chair, and lay on the bed with her knees and feet over the edge, much as she had been the night before on the sofa.
"You just kneel right there in front of me," she said. She raised her knees till her feet were on the bed and parted them, but continued to conceal herself under her housecoat. He duly knelt.
"Now you're going to give me a nice thorough licking," she said, "And I'm going to tell you all about how to do it. You'd better open me up with your fingers first. Then get yourself down there and lick up right from my bottom to the top of it all, nice and wet, slowly, and keep at it."
She pulled her housecoat aside and lay back. He found himself staring the fat lips of her cunt and their sprinkling of off-blond hair, with her thick thatch above. Aunt Jane herself had vanished from sight - he could only see the swell of her stomach. He was glad of it. His education had so stuffed him with ideas about the whole person, the total relationship, woman as not just objects and so on - but here the object, her cunt, was exactly what he wanted to focus on undistracted. He stared at her lips and at the dry wrinkled skin of her inner lips between them, closed as if permanently in a twisting join, and fusing at the top into the slight swelling of what was presumably the shaft of her clitoris. He had thought of a cunt as simply a slit but it was not like that at all. It was a substantial affair. He thrust the fingers and thumb of his right hand down its sides and clasped its bulk, fascinated and with a degree of awe.
Suddenly remembering he was supposed to be pleasing his aunt, and grateful she had kept quiet and not hurried him, he put one thumb on each lip and pulled the two apart - not easy as the hairs were a bit tangled and her inner lips stuck together. Inside she was pink and extraordinarily complicated. How simple his own male apparatus seemed by contrast. No doubt all would become clear to him in time.
A faint thick smell of womanhood reached him. It restored him to lust. He thrust forwards and stuck his tongue in the crevice of her bottom as instructed. Then drew his tongue over the ridge of her anus, dipped into a tiny hollow at its centre, and ran over smooth ground till he hit the base of her cunt. But that had closed up again. He had to use his thumbs to open her again. His tongue abruptly slid right down into the indefinite, to rise again onto her moist inner plateau. Then he skidded unintentionally round the sides of her inner lips, which had closed though her cunt was open. All very complicated. It was not easy to insert his fingers and hold them apart so that his tongue could slide up between them. He liked her taste - sharp but not strong. He came up against the almost vertical bastion of her clitoris, surmounted it and slid away down its diminishing shaft till he was licking her hair. He went back to the base.
"Keep it wet," she said in friendly tones, "And not so hard. A smooth even glide, if you please."
He held the cheeks of her bottom apart, affording a lovely rank view of her wrinkled anus in its wide aureole of brown skin. He set off again. The difficulty remained her inner lips, which kept joining up and deflecting him round them, but he developed a way of letting a finger go first to part them.
He felt he had sussed the thing out. More to it than he would have thought. But now he could relax and enjoy it. His saliva flowed generously over his tongue. He speeded up with greater confidence. He wriggled the tip of his tongue in that intriguing hollow of her anus, then round the larger and less defined opening of her vagina, and noticed that when he did so she quickly grew moister till she was wet, not just moist. He noticed she had raised her arms - he could not see, but reckoned she must be caressing her breasts. Her breathing grew deeper.
"Lovely," she said, "Just keep it going. No faster. No harder." He licked on, tongue fully extended and quite at home in its new area of activity.
"Lovely," she said again. "Now - put your tongue up to the shaft of my clit and just flick it gently to and fro and from top to bottom - it'll rub against the bone beneath - gently mind."
It was just as she said - he could feel the shaft under his tongue and it shifted to and fro as he flicked it. He thought it was swelling a bit, especially down at the lower end.
