Aunt Sarah was my mum's sister. No doubt she still is. I remember her fondly from my childhood. Always taking me places and spoiling me because my mum could not afford to. When I think of her back then, two things come to mind. Firstly, was her ability to embarrass me. No matter what she did or said, I always ended up blushing or running off to my room. Secondly was her breasts. Large, round, plump breasts. As a teenager, I was forever horny and wanted to just reach out and grab them. I managed to refrain but I am not sure how. She would often take me swimming to a local outdoor pool during the summer and she was never without her bikini. She had a great figure and all the other guys at the pool stared at her as she went by. It was as much as I could do to stop staring myself let alone hide my continuous erection from her. I doubt I did either very well.
So now there I was, a young man, standing on her doorstep, looking for a place to stay. I won't bore you with the gory details but I had returned from travelling around Europe, my mum had gone off to live with a younger man in Wales and I was homeless. I called Sarah from Belgium on my way back and asked if she could put me up for a few weeks. I had a good job lined up and would soon be on my feet. She was delighted to have me stay. She lived in a pleasant four bedroom house all alone. It was all that was left of her marriage after her ex-husband ran off with a beauty therapist from Slough. She had two step-children from the marriage but they had long flown. She hugged me quite enthusiastically when she opened the door. I got a big kiss too, right on the lips. She wasted no time showing me to my room. It was a good size room with a comfy double bed, tv, ensuite bathroom, a desk and a sofa. I could ask for no more. No sooner had my bags hit the floor than Sarah was pressing a glass of wine into my hands and dragging me to the sofa.
"Sit down Johnny. We have a lot of catching up to do. You really have grown haven't you?"
She squeezed my arm and we seated ourselves on the sofa. I sat more or less in the middle and she sat as close as she could to me without actually being on my lap. She was wearing figure a hugging dress and exposing her usual amount of cleavage. Her make-up was immaculate with some lovely red lipstick. By my crude estimate she was approaching forty but looked much younger. She wore small diamond studded earrings which sparkled and complemented her eyes. Her legs, well they were covered perfectly with stockings and finished off with high heels on her feet. I got the impression she got all dressed up for me. She leant in towards me, placed her hand on my knee and we touched glasses in a toast.
"To getting to know each other again." She said with a smile. And then we began to chat. She insisted on hearing all about my travels around Europe, what I had seen and learnt. She told me all about her business and how well things were going for her. We briefly discussed my mum, my new job and a whole lot of other things. All the while she continuously touched me. Resting her hand on my arm, stroking my knee with her fingers, rubbing her leg against mine. She was being very affectionate. And Aunt Sarah can seriously talk. I felt very comfortable in her presence. Not like when I was younger. Not embarrassed at all. Up to a certain point.
The subject of her ex-husband, Tommy, came up. She ranted about the 'whore bitch from Slough' and vented about how she was much better off without him and that she loved her personal freedom.
"You don't miss him then?" I quipped flippantly.
"No, not at all." She replied sternly. And then she thought for a moment. "Well maybe I miss his dick. Not that he was much good with it, but I do like a nice dick inside me. Not had one for months now. Not since the gardener left. How about you? What's happening on the girlfriend front?"
"Oh. Not much. Well nothing really. We split up before I left for Europe." I replied.
"Shame. Still, bet you got plenty of pussy over there?" I think at this stage I had passed embarrassment. I went through every shade of red imaginable but unfortunately had nowhere to run. I was already in my room. So I had to tough it out.
"No. Actually, nothing."
"Oh God, you're not gay are you? Not that there is anything wrong with that. Each to his own I say. Whatever gets you off. Just I wish I had known."
"No. No. Definitely not gay. Just not very good with women." She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. That was quite sweet. What was not so sweet was at the same time, her hand moved up the inside on my thigh until it was just about at the tip of my cock. I smiled back at her. She topped up our glasses and we continued chatting. I am not normally a wine drinker, so after a couple of glasses, it began to have an affect. Her rubbing inside my thigh was beginning to do the trick too and I started to get stiff. I really could not tell if she was being flirty with me or if it was my imagination. The conversation moved on but now all I could think of was Aunt Sarah and the gardener, and those tits. Like a child, I found myself staring at them again. She was now leaning into me, hands all over. This could not be my imagination. I took a chance, not that there was any rational thought behind what I did, and kissed her. It was brief and clumsy.
Aunt Sarah stared at me sternly. Disappointment written all across her face. She put down her glass and stood up.
"Come her," she said as she beckoned me with her finger. I stood in front her, ready to be admonished.
