Sunbathing Saturday
In the summer of 1973 Aunt Patricia came to visit. She wasn't my real aunt, not a blood relation, but she was my mother's oldest friend and I had always known her as 'aunty'. I didn't know much about her really, just the bare bones of her life. I knew she'd met my mother in London during the dark years of the Second World War, when she was 16. She'd been orphaned by the Luftwaffe during the blitz and had managed quite competently on her own despite her tender age. No doubt her pretty face and voluptuous figure opened doors for her, and she was a very wealthy woman in 1973.
Patricia arrived in mid July and was still there a month later on a hot Saturday afternoon in August. She'd made a fuss of me when she eased herself elegantly from her Bentley, teasing me mildly about how much I'd grown, how I'd filled out etc, and I was treated to a butterfly winged kiss on the cheek, her subtle scent gently enveloping me when she briefly held me close to her bosom. Patricia was grace and elegance personified. She was always tastefully dressed and immaculately groomed, simply oozing sophistication. Her face was still beautiful and her figure voluptuous and curvy at the age of 46. It was her figure that I noticed on that fateful Saturday afternoon when I spied her sunbathing on the patio at the rear of our house.
I'd been out, and mum and dad were away. We weren't expecting them back until late Sunday, and it appeared that Patricia had taken advantage of being alone and decided to get in a spot of sunbathing. I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw her from an upstairs window. She was stretched out on a sun lounger gloriously naked, and I feasted my eyes on her magnificent, oiled body. My cock stiffened instantly as I gloried in Patricia's total abandonment. Her full, round breasts and dark brown nipples glistened with the sheen of her sun oil and were a magnet for my hungry eyes. I was captivated by the sight of her crinkly haired pubic bush, as my eyes roved over every glorious, naked inch of her voluptuous body.
I'd never seen a naked woman before in my life and my stomach flipped and fluttered as I stood for long minutes, drinking in every detail of Patricia's nakedness. The lust for the mature woman was an ache in my hard cock, and I conjured up vivid fantasy images of her in my fevered 18 year old mind. I longed to suck on her big, rubbery nipples, to maul her heavy tits with both hands, and to stab at her experienced cunt with my virgin prick.
I had a brief moment of panic when Patricia sat upright on the lounger. Her tits swung and wobbled weightily as Patricia raised herself, and I was relieved to see that she was just changing position, turning over to sun her back when she settled down on the lounger again. I committed the detail of Patricia's shapely figure and fleshy buttocks to memory as I spied on her from the cool interior of the house. My cock was still throbbing stiffly, begging for release, and I found myself standing in the doorway of Patricia's bedroom.
I had no idea how I came to be in her room. I had moved on automatic pilot and the first conscious moment I can recall is the remnant of Patricia's scent wafting on the warm air of her bright, sunlit room. I went to the chest of drawers and, ever so quietly, slid the drawers open one by one. I found her underwear and pulled a lacy brassiere from the pile, a silky pair of cami-knickers dropping to the carpet as I pulled the bra out. I picked up the soft, velvety panties and felt the soft texture of the garment with my finger tips. I held the brassiere up to my nose and sniffed Patricia's scent deeply, unzipping my jeans as I did so.
I wrapped the silky panties around my cock and wanked hard. I was filled with desire for the mature Patricia, and the closest I could get to fulfilling my fantasy was to masturbate into her underclothes. Looking back it was complete madness, pulling my cock in our guest's bedroom, her underwear drawer hanging open. I was tempting fate, begging to be caught in the act, but the sight of Patricia's unashamed, abandoned nudity sent me temporarily insane.
It didn't take me long to come. With a low moan and a vigorously pumping hand, I spurted my hot semen into the delicate fabric of Patricia's undies. The silken garment caught most of the flood, but a few thick drops of white, sticky goo dribbled onto the carpet. When my cock finally stopped its spitting, and my breathing had returned to near normal, I put the bra back in the drawer, cleaned myself up as best I could, and taking the ruined knickers with me, left the room.
I hid the panties in my bedroom and went down into the kitchen, making some noise so Patricia would know I was back and could get herself covered up.
'Oh, hello Richie,' she said as she padded into the kitchen on her bare feet. 'Have you had a good time?'
'Yes thanks, aunty Pat,' I replied, allowing my eyes to flicker over Patricia's now bikini clad body.
When I looked into Patricia's face I noticed that she'd seen my brief appraisal of her voluptuous curves, and I reddened at the fact of being caught in the act. If only she'd seen me 15 minutes earlier!
'Well, I'd better go and make myself decent,' Patricia said brightly. 'I'll go and cover myself up. It's not nice for you to see me half nude,' she added.
Was she teasing me I thought to myself as I watched Patricia's lovely arse wiggle in her bikini briefs when she left me alone in the kitchen. She'd seen me ogling her big tits for sure, and I would have been happy enough if she'd stayed in her bikini all afternoon. Even though I'd spunked my load only 15 minutes earlier, I could feel my cock thickening again as I thought lewdly about my mother's friend.
When Patricia came back downstairs I noticed a strange look on her face. I couldn't define it, but it was a sly, feline look. A slight upwards curl at the corners of her mouth, and a narrowing of the eyes. What did that look mean? I asked myself. Or is it just my imagination? I wasn't sure at all.
Patricia had bathed, washing the oily residue from her body, and was now dressed in a light coloured cotton summer frock. The dress that Patricia was wearing was showing a generous amount of cleavage, and I surreptitiously admired the light, golden hued upper slopes of her bountiful, braless breasts. I could see the outline of her thick nipples as they pushed against the thin cotton, and a vivid image of Patricia's earlier nakedness flashed across the screen in my mind like a slideshow.
'I'm going to have a glass of wine on the terrace,' Patricia said as she opened the fridge door. 'Would you like one?'
'Er… sure,' I replied as Patricia looked at me, her head tilted to one side questioningly.
Patricia poured the wine as we sat down together, the warm afternoon giving way to a balmy early evening.