Aunt Lucy wasn't really my aunt. She was just some really close friend of my mum and dad who was always around when me and Sissy were growing up. Sissy wasn't my sister either, despite the name, though we spent a lot of time together. Her dad was a diplomat or something like that and was always being moved abroad, so since Sissy's mum and mine were best friends, she used to spend a lot of time round ours - even sleeping there - because her dad was never in the country and her mum was always out (with her lover, as mum knew and Sissy and I discovered much later, but that's another story). We were the same age, we went to the same junior school, we played together and she always came on holiday with us, so I suppose we became a bit like brother and sister. At least until she was packed off to boarding school.
Lucy was a few years younger than our parents and used to babysit me and Sissy when they went out to one of dad's boring business functions. She often used to come on holiday with us, which was better than just having mum and dad. Dad was always on the phone or drinking, while mum was usually in a bad mood. 'Go and play with Aunt Lucy. I'm too tired.' Judging by the family photos, mum was quite pretty when she and dad got married, but it didn't last. Later I learned it was probably because dad was horrible to her that she let herself go. He wasn't physical or aggressive or anything like that. He just made it pretty clear he was bored by her. Much later I found out he'd had affairs with other women almost from the off and that mum had probably known about them.
Anyway, when I was twelve he walked out. A broken home is supposed to be devastating for the kids but, frankly, I was relieved more than anything. Mum took it bad at first and there were a few tears and shouting about what a fucking bastard he was. But then she calmed down and even seemed to brighten up a bit. Aunt Lucy came round a lot more and I would often overhear them laughing about 'bastard men'. There'd always be a couple of empty wine bottles in the kitchen the next morning.
When Sissy was thirteen she was sent to a girls' boarding school, which was much more upsetting. It was like losing my best friend. Her mum went off to Greece with her lover and seemed perfectly happy to let Sissy stay with us over the school holidays, but gradually that school seemed to change her. Maybe it was puberty or something, but being with her wasn't like when we were kids. When I began to get interested in girls I fancied her like mad, but she didn't seem at all interested in me that way. Consequently our relationship was sometimes a bit awkward. We still talked a lot and liked the same things, but there was also a lot of hidden stuff that we never talked about.
When I turned eighteen and left school Mum went back to college and resumed the psychology degree she'd given up when she'd married dad. Aunt Lucy was almost a permanent fixture by then, so it was no surprise when she came with us on holiday again. Sissy came too, of course; a sort of last holiday before she went to university. We rented a cabin by a lake for a month and it was pretty idyllic. There were other cabins around but they were hidden away in the woods and we had a secluded bathing spot. I didn't mind being away from my mates for a few weeks. I was the one boy with three females but it didn't bother me. I thought about sex only around a hundred times a day but there were enough opportunities for masturbation in secret, so I wasn't that frustrated. I even jacked off in the lake once when the others were sunbathing. I fantasised about Aunt Lucy, of course, even though she was in her thirties by then. She was pretty sexy in a bikini. And I thought about sex with Sissy, even though it was plain nothing could be further from her mind. We'd never had that brother-sister hate thing that a lot of real siblings seem to suffer. I really liked her and she was really attractive. She had nice firm tits - smallish but perfect - and she looked good in a bikini too.
The layout of the cabin was OK, even though it was a bit small. Sissy and I slept in a kind of loft space with a wooden partition between us, so we had a bit of privacy. Downstairs, mum and Aunt Lucy shared a bedroom with a couple of single beds. There was a separate loo and a shower room and the rest of the cabin was an open-plan dining/sitting/kitchen area that opened onto a verandah where we spent most of the time when we wanted to escape the sun.
The first week was pretty uneventful. We were very sensible and put on plenty of sunblock so none of us got sunburn. I tried not to look too lustfully at Lucy and Sissy and took regular dips to cool off and shrink my hard-on. Occasionally I had to disappear up to the loft or into the woods to deal with it if my fantasies got too much to bear.
At the end of that week mum had to leave us for a fortnight to go to some summer workshop or other, so there was a bit more room and less moaning about bastard men to listen to. Lucy seemed to relax more too and despite the fact she was about fifteen years older, it began to feel more like she was a friend than an aunt. It probably helped that Sissy and I were maybe more mature for our age. We didn't drink, do drugs or go to loads of parties. Sissy was quite a good artist and I liked to read. We were probably quite boring really, though we didn't think we were. So when Lucy produced a bottle of wine one evening she drank most of it and ended up quite merry.
That night something woke me up, but I didn't know what. I lay there thinking I might go back to sleep, but then had an urge for a glass of water. It was too hot to wear anything to bed, so I had to pull on some boxers before I went downstairs. I crept down and poured a glass. I walked over to the verandah and looked at the lake, perfectly still in the moonlight. Then a noise made me turn round. There was nothing moving. But Lucy's bedroom door was open. I didn't think I'd see anything to explain the noise, but I couldn't help looking in.
Lucy was lying on her side, facing away from me, completely naked, with one leg raised and bent at the knee. Between the cheeks of her perfect bum I could see the fingers of one hand playing with her pussy. Her other arm was twisted behind her back and her middle finger was toying with her arsehole. She was making little moaning noises. It took no more than a second or two to take it all in, but in that short time the picture was printed on my memory for ever. Then I was creeping back up the stairs, hoping that she wouldn't hear me and call out.
Back in bed I couldn't sleep. I had an erection fit to bust a brick but didn't want to masturbate in case I woke Sissy. It was strangely reassuring to know that Aunt Lucy masturbated. So it wasn't just me. I wondered what she thought about when she was doing it. Did she think about men fucking her? Did she think about me, like I thought about her? It seemed pretty unlikely, but even the possibility made my hard-on grow a bit. I couldn't keep my hand off it and after only a couple of strokes I was coming all over my stomach. It was a hell of a relief. I went to sleep pretty quickly after that.
The next day, Lucy seemed even more cheerful than usual, laughing at anything, telling awful jokes and messing around in the lake like a kid. Masturbation obviously did her good, just like it did me. I couldn't help staring at her walking round with hardly anything on. She had an amazing figure and I kept getting erections that I had to hide. Once or twice when she was sunbathing she caught me looking, but instead of telling me not to, she just smiled at me like she enjoyed being looked at, lay back in her recliner and closed her eyes.
That night I tried to will myself to stay awake. I read til gone midnight but I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew I was suddenly jolted awake again. It was still dark and I couldn't hear anything, so I couldn't work out what had woken me. Maybe my fantasies had made me so attuned to the slightest noise and Aunt Lucy was masturbating again. I made my way downstairs and looked to see if her bedroom door was open. It was. I tiptoed over then suddenly realised I hadn't put my boxers on. What if she looked up and saw me? I already had the beginnings of a stiffy at the thought of catching her masturbating. My cock made up my mind for me and I peeked in through the doorway.
It was at that exact moment that I felt a touch on my shoulder. I nearly had a heart attack. I stepped back and nearly collided with Sissy. 'What are you doing?' she whispered. 'Are you spying on her?' She didn't look very pleased.
'Of course not,' I whispered back. 'I just came down for a glass of water.'
She sneered. 'In Lucy's bedroom?'
I decided to come clean - almost. If I let her cross-examine me any longer we'd be sure to wake Lucy up if she wasn't already. And then I'd have even more explaining to do. 'I thought I heard a noise - like crying.'
'Huh.' But she peeped in the door anyway. 'Well, she's not crying now. She's sound asleep.'
'Oh, is she?' I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I looked in as well and Sissy was right. Aunt Lucy was sound asleep, covered from neck to toe by a sheet. She was even snoring a bit. 'I must have imagined it.'
'Right.' Sissy didn't believe a word of it. She just smirked knowingly at my cock and went back upstairs. I followed her, trying not to look up her big t-shirt at her bum. 'Water?' she asked sarcastically when I got to the top of the stairs.
When Aunt Lucy went for a swim next day, Sissy cross-examined me again. 'So what were you really doing peeking at Aunt Lucy?'
I made up some stories, none of which she believed, and I knew from experience that she wouldn't let it go until she got the truth. 'If you must know, I saw her masturbating the other night.'
'Oh my God!' She looked genuinely shocked, as if I'd caught Lucy stealing.
'You don't have to look so horrified. Women do it too, you know.'
'I know, but Aunt Lucy? I don't know, I just thought...' She tailed off.
'That she was too old?'
'Of course not. I'd just never thought of her that way.' She frowned. 'What did she look like?'
'She had her back to me. And I only saw her for a second.'
'I wonder if she does it every night or if it was just a one-off.'
