Aunt Matilda in Lyon

Part 4 of the Aunt Matilda series: "Aunt Matilda" is part 1, "Aunt Matilda to the Rescue" is part 2, and "Aunt Matilda Collects" is part 3 -- sorry, I never expected this to be a series when I started the first story.

*****

"Cynthia, wake up!" Sara said excitedly, giving her friend a gentle nudge. "I think we're getting close to the landing approach. We've descended below the clouds. Look."

Cynthia opened her eyes, give them a quick rub, and smiled. The smile turned into a yawn as the auburn haired young woman stretched her arms up high, and arched her back. As she joined her friend in peering out the plane's window, she asked, "Did you sleep okay?"

"I followed Aunt Matilda's advice, and got a solid eight hours," Sara replied. "I've also already used the toilet, brushed my teeth and fixed my hair," she giggled. "If you want to do the same, you'd better hurry, before they light up the fasten seat belt sign."

"Okay, okay," her friend said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I can take a hint -- my bladder's full, my hair's a fright, and my morning breath is horrible. Be right back."

After the requisite time had elapsed, Cynthia returned to her first-class seat next to Sara. "Better?" she asked.

"Your hair looks great now," Sara stated. "I can't tell about the state of your bladder, of course. As far as your breath goes, you'd better give me a kiss to let me check."

Laughing, Cynthia wrapped her arms around Sara's shoulders, and kissed her thoroughly.

"Mmmmm," Sara whispered when their lips parted. "A wonderful way to start my morning. I'm so glad you're able to come along with me on this trip."

"And I'm so glad that your aunt's paid my way as well as yours. And not only that, she got us these seats in first class. I've never flown in first class before!"

"Neither have I," Sara said. "My aunt is amazingly generous. She said that she wanted to make sure that we'd arrive well rested and ready to go."

The two friends held hands and stared out the plane's window as the announcement was made about fastening seat belts and preparing for landing, plus the current time, and temperature. The plane touched down smoothly, and taxied for quite a while, heading for its gate. At one point it cruised past a large building with a sign reading 'Aéroport Lyon-Saint Exupéry' in bold letters on its side, gleaming in the morning sunlight.

As the plane halted, jetways docked against it, and it's doors were opened. The two young ladies were practically bouncing in their seats with excitement. They deplaned easily, since they only had their small carry-on bags to tote. Aunt Matilda had told them that she would take them shopping for clothes, accessories, and cosmetics once they'd arrived. It was the way that she always traveled, she'd reminded them.

Once in the terminal, Sara and Cynthia were quickly bewildered, given the confusion of the signs in many languages, and the bustle and the babble of the crowded corridors. They decided to follow the bulk of the crowd from their plane, assuming and praying that these people knew where they were going. Sure enough, they arrived at customs, and watched as a pleasant man stamped their passports after asking them a few brief questions.

Now in the terminal proper, they were delighted to see Aunt Matilda waiting for them.

"Mes chères filles, bienvenue à Lyon!" Aunt Matilda cried happily, opening her arms to embrace them, and give them kisses.

Sara knew a little French, after taking a crash course. She'd worked out that Aunt Matilda had called them 'dear girls' and was welcoming them to Lyon. Summoning up the courage that Americans have to draw upon when trying to speak any foreign language to a native, Sara choked out, "Merci, tante." She prayed that her accent wasn't too atrocious.

"Well done," Aunt Matilda beamed. "That was quite understandable, and I appreciate your effort, my lovely niece. But I'm comfortable enough speaking English, and the people that I'll introduce you to will do the same -- some of them are actually originally from the United Kingdom. I want you more focused on your training, and not worrying about trying to learn a new language at the same time."

Cynthia especially looked grateful, since she hadn't had much warning about the trip, and pretty much only knew how to say 'yes' and 'no' in French.

"And how are you both feeling?" Aunt Matilda asked. "Do you have any jet lag?"

Sara answered, "I feel wonderful! We both followed your instructions about how to avoid it. That concept of altering our breakfast between high protein and high carbohydrate really seems to have worked. That, plus your advice about sleeping for the majority of the plane ride." Cynthia nodded her head in agreement.

"Therefore, it's time for your protein breakfast to keep you fully awake, correct?" Aunt Matilda inquired. Assured that it was, she then ushered her two new protégés out to where her luxurious car awaited them. A tall, handsome chauffeur politely opened the door to assist with their seating.

In a relatively short period of time, they arrived at a small bistro, where Aunt Matilda was well known. This was obvious, given the fawning deference shown to her as they were led to their table.

"In France, we don't usually have the sort of breakfasts that you Americans do," Aunt Matilda explained. "But I've told them of your special needs to start your day off right after such a long plane trip." She smiled. "Don't get too used to this, because after this your breakfast will typically consist of a croissant and coffee."

Minutes later, a smiling waiter placed plates before the girls. They gratefully tucked into the fried eggs, cold cuts of meat, and chunks of delicious cheese. Like Aunt Matilda, they were also served with a croissant and coffee. Eager to get out and really see the city, Sara and Cynthia didn't dawdle over their meal, although they tried to preserve some decorum as they made their breakfast disappear.

After another car ride, Aunt Matilda had them get out at Parc de la Tête d'Or, and they strolled through the Roseraie du Parc de la Tête d'Or, which was the Rose Garden in this beautiful park. The sunshine and brisk air thoroughly cleared the airplane air out of their lungs.

Next, Aunt Matilda had the driver take them across the Pont Morand, a bridge over the Rhône, since she wanted the girls to see the picturesque Fontaine Bartholdi. Sara and Cynthia seemed to have their heads on swivels, as they tried to see everything at once.

Back in the car, being driven through narrow, twisty streets, they had their noses pressed to the window glass, wide-eyed. They were drinking in the sights of shops, and museums, while trying desperately to translate all the French signs. "Auntie, what does 'arrondissement' mean?" Sara asked.

"Arrondissement means what you would call a borough. You know that New York City has various boroughs, such as Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens. Lyon has nine such boroughs," her aunt explained.

The pressure kept building as they saw boutique after boutique, many with famous designer names. They had to... just had to... shop for clothes and shoes! Grinning her understanding, Aunt Matilda took them on a wondrous shopping spree. They were truly on holiday.

Finally, purchases stowed in the trunk of the car, the trio departed the city proper, heading out into more open spaces. Sara could hardly call them suburbs, not with all the stately manors with walled grounds, and glimpses of ornate shrubbery and manicured lawns.

Aunt Matilda's place wasn't the grandest of them all, but it made Sara and Cynthia gasp with delight, even from a distance. Its entrance way was flanked by a gatehouse, with a long, gently curved driveway leading to what Sara had to think of as a mansion. It was huge, by her standards.

She and Cynthia were gaping at the house and landscaped grounds, oblivious to much else until the car came to a halt. As the chauffeur hurried around and opened their door, they stepped out of the vehicle and finally noticed that the household staff was lined up in greeting. Given their prior interactions with Aunt Matilda, the two young ladies shouldn't have been surprised to find that the members of the staff stood there without a stitch of clothing on!

A woman and four men were lined up at attention, awaiting the arrival of their Mistress, and introduction to her guests. The men, especially, were 'at attention' in more than one way, apparently aroused at being on display. Sara was curious about the presence of the woman, though. "Auntie, given that Cynthia and I are here to be trained in the CFNM lifestyle, I can understand about the naked men," she began.

"But you're wondering about the woman?" Aunt Matilda said, grinning. When Sara nodded, her aunt laughed. "Oh, that's Sophie. She's also being trained in the lifestyle. She just likes being naked much of the time." She led them over to stand near Sophie. Sara eyed the blonde's lush figure appreciatively, with her perky tits and roseate nipples, and the tiny, heart shaped puff of blonde pubic hair that seemed to point at her clit. "Sophie, this is my niece, Sara, and her good friend Cynthia."

"Very pleased to meet you both," Sophie stated. She smiled. "Your aunt has sung your praises, Sara. I'm glad to have you and your friend here to help me keep these males in line."

"Should we remove our clothes also?" Cynthia asked, perhaps a little eagerly.

"I want you two to remember that a key element about this lifestyle is that you, as women, are in charge," Aunt Matilda reminded them. "Therefore, you can be nude anytime that the spirit moves you to be. However, I think you'll find that it helps to establish the correct mindset of control if you remained clothed for a while, while the men are naked. This helps establish the proper dynamic. Let me introduce you to the men, now."

She started with the chauffeur, who'd also removed his clothing, once he'd finished helping them out of the car. "Lyle here is my chauffeur, but he's also the estate gardener."

Sara looked more closely at the man, and licked her lips, liking what she saw. He obviously worked out in the sun, with his ruddy, tanned complexion, and his brown, sun-streaked hair. His pale eyes conveyed an open friendliness.

Next to Lyle was a slightly pudgy bald man. When Aunt Matilda introduced him as the cook, chef Gable, Sara suppressed her giggle, thinking he must sample his cooking a lot while preparing it. She only learned later that 'gable' could mean 'gobbler' so maybe he was destined to have an oral fixation. She did, however, whisper a question to her aunt. "Does he remain naked even when he's cooking?" Her aunt reassured her that he was permitted to wear a protective apron whenever he had to work near the stove.

"Spencer, my butler has charge of the dining room, pantry, and wine cellar. He also handles any unforeseen needs of the household," was Auntie's introduction of the tall, slender, dark haired man. His piercing dark eyes seemed to scan his surroundings, perhaps watching for unforeseen events. His black hair was also reflected in the black bush of pubic hair at his groin, from which his dick sprouted. Even naked, he projected an air of dignity.

The other dark haired man next to him was presented as the housekeeper, Durant. "Durant maintains the overall cleanliness and appearance of the household. He makes the beds, vacuums, dusts, and cleans the bathrooms, for instance." His blue eyes twinkled as he was named, projecting an air of confidence that the guests would find nothing amiss.

The final male was a redhead, with pale skin and bright green eyes. He was of average build, and the truly remarkable thing about his body was that even though he had a rather neatly trimmed patch of bright red pubic hair above his penis, his ball sack was completely shaved. As Sara looked, she could see what looked like slightly larger than normal testicles shifting inside that sack, which made her grin. "This is Chaucer," Aunt Matilda said, actually stroking the blushing man's arm. "He's our laundress, for lack of a better word. I know that's a feminine title, but I can assure you he's all male." Chaucer blushed even a deeper shade of red. "I suppose I could call him a 'launderer' but that's cumbersome to my lips. He sees that our clothes are kept fresh and immaculate."

The young ladies smiled and said hello to each man. As they did so, Aunt Matilda pointed out, "Even though they have prescribed job titles and duties, those are for the day to day running of the household. Any man can be called upon to do any task. So, if, for instance, you wanted Spencer to clean your bathtub while you watched, he would of course be happy to comply."

"So any male can be used for any task?" Cynthia asked, making sure she understood.

"Absolutely," Aunt Matilda confirmed. "Remember, in our CFNM lifestyle, the female commands, and the male obeys. And they obey willingly, correct, gentlemen?" There was a chorus of assent. "And now the time has come for my young charges to begin their training."

"How would you like us to start, Auntie?" Sara asked politely.

"I think it would be best for you each to select one of these men. Take him out to the garden area, and manipulate him to orgasm. You must get familiar with the various clues signaling that ejaculation is imminent. So, see what you notice. You're not trying to edge the man, just watching his body closely. Sara, you may choose first."

"Hmmm," Sara said, looking up and down the line of men. There was no real reason for her to do so, because she wanted Lyle. She just didn't want to slight the other men, because she was sure she could have fun with any of them. "I guess I'd like to take Lyle out into the garden he tends, Auntie," she finally stated.

"Oh good," Cynthia said breathlessly. "Because I want Spencer, please, Miss... Ms... Matilda."

"Good choices, both of you," Aunt Matilda chuckled. Sara had the feeling that her aunt would've said that regardless of who they chose.

"Lyle, show me the way to this garden you maintain," Sara instructed him. The pair started walking away.

Aunt Matilda gestured for Cynthia to wait for a moment. "By the way, Cynthia. I know we're not blood relations, but I'd be pleased if you called me Auntie, as Sara does. I could tell you were hesitating as to how to address me."

Cynthia beamed joyfully. Impulsively, she gave Aunt Matilda a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, Auntie. It makes me feel a lot closer and more accepted to call you that."

Since they were already hugging, Aunt Matilda tightened the hug subtly, pressing their breasts firmly together, and kissed Cynthia fully on her lips. The kiss deepened. When it ended, Cynthia's eyes sparkled brightly, and her tits and pussy tingled. "Wow," she gasped softly.

"Perhaps you'd like to share my bed tonight," Aunt Matilda murmured. "That is, if you're interested."

Cynthia's pupils dilated with surprise. "Me?" she squeaked quietly. Looking into the distance where Sara was walking with Lyle, she continued, "Me? Not Sara?"

Aunt Matilda held Cynthia at arm's length, to make good eye contact. "Cynthia, I love Sara. But she's my niece, you know. I'd like to get to know you, her best friend, a lot better."

The color of Cynthia's blush rivaled the red of the nearby roses, but she was suffused with blossoming happiness. "I'd... I'd love that, Auntie. As long as Sara feels okay with it. But at her birthday party, I remember you tribbing with her, and also snowballing some guy's load with her, right?"

"Yes, we did do that, it's true. But that was more as a demonstration for her party guests, Cynthia. As far as Sara being okay with this -- I believe she will be. And I also believe she'll not be alone in her bed tonight either," Aunt Matilda laughed. "But we'll check with her after dinner. Now, take Spencer, and start your training, my dear."

Cynthia took Spencer's hand and asked, "Is the garden big enough that you and I can do this without bothering Sara and Lyle?"

"Indeed it is, Miss. There are many secluded places for such activities," he assured her.

"Then lead the way, please," she told him. And they set off.

Soon Sara was sitting next to Lyle, who was stretched out on his back in the soft grass. Thin clouds were defusing the warm sunlight that bathed them both. She knew that her aunt expected her to take charge, so, even though she barely knew this man, she felt fairly comfortable about reaching out to grasp his manhood.

"Lyle, I'm supposed to make you cum," she reminded him. "Auntie told me not to try to edge you at all, but just to observe. Do you normally try to delay your orgasm when my aunt works with you?"

"Yes, Miss. I'm actually supposed to try to hold out until she gives me permission to cum, which might take hours, at times."

"Okay. I can understand that, as part of your training, I suppose," Sara agreed. "But for today, for right now, just relax and feel what I'm doing, and let your body react in whatever way it wishes to respond. In fact, maybe you shouldn't even try to warn me that you're close or anything."

"So you want me to remain silent, Miss?"

"Oh. You don't have to be completely silent, Lyle. That sounds pretty artificial, so it might skew the results the wrong way. Just don't articulate a warning, okay?"

"Yes, Miss. I understand."

Sara was thrilled to have her hands wrapped around this luscious, stiff prick. She let that emotion seep through her very being, letting it convey into her touch and the movements of her hands. She loved masturbating men. Even as she thought that, though, she thought to herself, "No, that sounds way too clinical. I love jacking them off. I love wanking them until they moan and explode. I wonder if Lyle is a moaner? I sure mean to find out."

She put her hands into motion. Since she didn't have any lubricant, the hand she had on his shaft was grasping it just behind the head of his cock, and made slow, small pumping movements, just moving the skin up and down in relation to the deeper, blood-engorged rods that comprised the shaft. Her other hand fondled his ball sack, stimulating its sensitive nerve endings. Soon he was emitting soft sighs, moans and groans.

Meanwhile, in another part of the garden, Cynthia and Spencer had found their own area of seclusion. Cynthia was less certain what 'manipulate' might entail. She knew that Aunt Matilda wanted her to make him climax, and to pay attention to whatever signals he might give off just before that happened -- that much she was sure about. Spencer asked, "How do you want me, Miss?"

After a moment's pause, she knelt and answered, "Stand in front of me with your thighs spread apart, and place your hands behind your back, please." As he did so, she sucked the swollen tip of his cock into her warm mouth. She was thinking to herself, "This always seems to work with the guys I know." With both of her hands free, she reached around Spencer's butt, and started stroking one finger up and down his ass crack, not actually penetrating his ass hole, just giving the suggestion that it might occur. She used the fingers of her other hand to actually tickle his free dangling scrotum.

Spencer started groaning within minutes. Cynthia wasn't going for finesse. She wasn't going for sophistication. She was going after semen. Spencer's semen. She was sucking him like a kitten starving for milk. Her fingers at his ball sack and ass crack were driving him crazy! After perhaps five minutes of this exquisite torture, he cried out, "Oh fuck!" as he started spewing his seed into the vacuum of Cynthia's mouth! Spurt after spurt jetted from him, and the seemingly ravenous auburn haired woman kneeling before him swallowed it all, every drop disappearing rapidly down her throat.

When it seemed he was finished, Cynthia tightened her lips around the base of his now-wilting cock shaft and rocked backward slowly on her knees, stripping every dribble possible out of his cock before it popped free of her lips. Smiling, she swished those dribbles around in her mouth, getting a good taste before swallowing that remainder.