I stayed with Auntie Lapine at her mountain farm for a few years. I'd missed my opportunity to go to college, but she ran a quite successful herb and vegetable farm and I slowly learned not only how to dig in the earth and care for living things, but the business, how to handle customers and how to work.
That's not all I learned.
As an eighteen year old hard bundle of lusts, I'd never had an outlet for passion. I was horny as they came and every girl I'd come in contact with seemed to sense that and had avoided me like the plague. The girls I had known were expert in giving hints of promises, but when the flower of desire they had teased bloomed into full blown lust they had run like startled deer.
That first early morning I had arrived, a suffering, skinny, and hungry eighteen year old kid, she had stroked my cock and was warm-hearted and tender and accepting at how I felt. After such blessed relief I had finally slept, dreaming of impossible pleasures with her.
I awakened long after. I heard, out the screened window, a stream tumbling over rocks. Though the rain of the night before had stopped, the scent of rain lingered in the air.
As I tried to think about what had happened, her touch on my cock felt more and more like a dream. I'd never felt such acceptance and frankly, didn't know how to handle it. That kind of acceptance was so far out of my experience that the only possible thought that made any sense was that she had probably caressed me out of pity. That meant I had no right to ever expect it was to ever happen again. A one-time deal. I was such a pent-up bundle of lust that I thought that no female could or would ever truly accept it or take joy in it. I resolved to take care of my own passions, to take my unrepentant cock in hand. I could dream of my sweet Auntie Lap in my youthful lust, but not to burden her with it.
She proved me wrong.
So very wrong.
Clothes were laid out for me on the chair beside the bed. Jeans and work shirt, but no underwear. I'd always worn underwear, but there was nothing else in the room and no sign of my other clothes. I pulled on the jeans. It felt a little strange not to have my briefs holding everything tightly in place. Good, but strangely cool and free and my cock swelled a little. No, I thought, I cannot think like that, I can't go around with a hard throbbing cock in front of Auntie Lap all the time. I forced my mind away from lust and padded barefoot downstairs to the living room.
Her house was a two story rustic log cabin, filled with strong furniture and warm furnishing. A stone fireplace dominated the room and books lined the walls.
I followed the sound of her voice into the kitchen.
She was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking on the phone. "Yes, Jean, we have plenty of rosemary for you, just finished weeding it today. Now much do you need?" She smiled at me then turned and leaned over the counter to write out details on an order pad.
My heart stopped in my throat at the sight of her bottom stretching the material of her work jeans and her full breasts swinging under her loose thin shirt. She was backlit from the sun streaming in through the windows behind and I thought I could see her nipples lightly dragging against the countertop.
I couldn't breathe. I'd never seen anything like her; she had the loveliest figure I'd ever seen. Beautifully curved hips, tiny waist encircled by a wide leather belt and the thin work shirt, shirtsleeves rolled up just past her elbows.
My heart started jumping so hard I thought my chest was going to explode. I didn't know ... or didn't want to admit to myself ... that I had just fallen deeply in love.
She turned to me and smiled, her eyes dancing. "Hi there, Sleepyhead. Come on in and sit down, your eggs are ready."
I padded over to the table and sat. "What time is it?"
"After ten, Honey. I've already been up and fed the animals and weeded the rosemary." She reached over and rumpled my hair. "You're gonna earn your keep around here y'know."
When she brought me the eggs and leaned over me to set down the plate I could not help but look down her open shirt collar at her full smooth breasts, hanging free, her nipples standing and perfect. My cock immediately throbbed and I was glad to be sitting down at the table with it safely hidden from view. I could smell the rosemary on her, breathed deeply and remembered, actual tactile memory of her touch, how her hands had felt that morning, how she had squeezed my cock.
"Graham?"
"What?" I jerked up out of my reverie and looked at her, which could have been a mistake, because I was instantly lost in her deep blue eyes.
Her dimples appeared. "This morning wasn't enough for you, was it? Not enough to diminish your desires?"
