Mum put the telephone down and turning to me said, "Do you realize you haven't seen Aunt Emma for nearly two years?"
"Is it that long?" I asked, glancing up from the book I was reading.
"Yes, and she wonders why, she thinks she might have done something to offend you; has she?"
"No, I just haven't got around to visiting her and it's a damned long trek out there -- the far flung outposts of..."
"Robert, its only forty minutes on the train, surely you could..."
"She never forgets your birthday," dad chimed in.
"Well I've told her you'll visit her tomorrow," mum added.
"Tomorrow!" I protested, "It's Sunday tomorrow and..."
"Then you won't have any lectures will you, and while you're there you can pick up a couple of books she's lending me."
"Books? "
"Yes, you know I'm doing the same course that she did...er...how long ago was it?"
"Must be about ten or eleven years," dad said.
"Well anyway, some of the books she used are still on the reading list, so she's lending them to me. I need them in a hurry."
I might have guessed mum had a motive other than my non-Emma visiting for sending me to her.
Mum was one of the people they call "Mature age students." They're mostly women having a midlife crisis when their kids have grown up and they want to find the meaning of life. It's a bit of an embarrassment having your mum studying at university at the same time as you. I'm just thankful that we're in different faculties; mum in the Arts Faculty and me in science.
I made one final attempt to get out of the visit. "Mum, there are hardly any trains to the outer suburbs on Sundays."
"Don't be silly Robert, there's one that leaves at nine thirty."
"Nine thirty! That's the middle of the night."
"Emma will be at the station to meet you," mum said, ignoring my remark.
So that was it settled.
* * * * * * * *
I should explain that Aunt Emma isn't really my aunt; the "Aunt" is just a sort of honorary title.
When mum was a kid she and her parents lived next door to Emma's parents. I think mum was about twelve years of age when Emma was born. Mum says that because she didn't have any siblings she sort of adopted Emma as a sister. So that's how I got my Aunt Emma. It seemed a bit odd really because Emma was only about thirteen years older than me, and I suppose you expect aunts to be ancient.
Mum married before she'd completed her studies, so that's why she's at university now, "catching up," as she calls it.
Emma eventually became a teacher and a couple of year ago she was appointed to a primary school in an outer suburb. She said she was fed up with living in the inner suburbs and didn't want to travel to and from the school everyday, so she moved to the suburb where the school was located.
I'd only been to her house once, when mum, dad and I went to see the place after she first moved in, and it was true I hadn't been to see her since. When she occasionally came into the city and she dropped in to see mum I'd never been around.
Emma had never married, but from what I'd overheard mum and dad say, she'd had quite a few men in her life, but none of them lasted. I'd wondered about that; why the rapid turn over of lovers?
I mean, Emma was okay to look at although she did look a bit formidable. You know, tallish, about five feet nine and slender but with rather noticeable breasts. I used to think of them as "nipple hills," because she nearly always wore tight tops and her breasts stuck out very conspicuously and you could always see the shape of her nipples.
I have to admit that when I started to make my way through puberty-land I used to get a bit horny looking at her nipple hills.
As for the rest of her; she always has her auburn hair cut just above shoulder level; her forehead is broad and smooth and her face tapers down to a chin that just escapes being pointed and it has a rather nice dimple in the middle. Her eyes and nose tend to make her look a bit fierce.
Her eyes are long lidded and green, and when she looks at you it's as if she's seeing right into you. Her nose is aquiline and that makes her look a trifle hawkish -- as if she's about to devour you. Her mouth seems to contradict her eyes and nose by being full lipped, with the lower lip protruding ever so slightly.
She has the most marvelous complexion, and that is true of her whole body. I know this because when I was a kid Emma and mum would take me to the beach and Emma always wore a bikini, and that showed not only her over all complexion but her rather nicely shaped and long creamy legs.
I'd always been a bit wary of Emma although I didn't know why. I mean, I know now, but I didn't back then. Perhaps that's why none of her men hung around for long.
* * * * * * * *
Sunday morning and up at the crack of dawn -- eight o'clock. Mum drove me to the railway station. The train wasn't even one of the new ones, but an old rattle trap that was almost empty anyway.
It complained it way through the inner suburbs and then the not so inner suburbs, stopping frequently at stations to let nobody off and nobody on.
Finally it creaked and rattled its way to the outer suburbs where there were still some fields with sheep and cows doing nothing in particular, or perhaps awaiting the desecrations of the "Developers."
After about forty minutes the train groaned into the station that was my destination.
Emma was there waiting for me, and I have to say, she looked absolutely stunning. Wearing tight shorts and shirt, her long legs were well on display and the nipple hills were clearly unbridled as they strained against the shirt.
I'd forgotten she looked so good, or perhaps after my residence in puberty-land I hadn't paid sufficient attention to her. After all, I did have the fleshly reality with a number of girls, without chasing after a fantasy surrogate aunt.
As I said, I'd always been wary of Emma, but at that moment, standing on the station platform, I was scared of her, or more accurately, scared of my response to her sexy appearance. Who would need an aphrodisiac with someone like Emma around?
She made things worse with her exuberant greeting. She hugged me close, and kissed me firmly on the lips. I could feel the nipple hills pressing against me, and my testes and penis began to gear up to reproduce the species.
"It's been such a long time," she warbled, "and you've filled out since I last saw you. Why haven't you come to see me?"
I muttered something about being busy with studies but I don't think Emma heard because she went on, "We've got the whole day together darling, isn't in wonderful?"
"Yes," I replied doubtfully. If the day was going to continue as it had begun I foresaw some frustrating times ahead.
As we went to her car she said, "I wondered what you'd like to do. We can sit around and talk, or we could go for a drive in the hills, or go for a walk. They've just opened a restaurant in the village and later we could go there for dinner, would you like that?"
These outer suburb people like to pretend they're living in a village, even though the suburban houses are springing up all round them.
I'd heard that exercise can help dampen an over eager libido, so I said that I'd like to go for a walk.
"Wonderful darling, we'll go back to the cottage and I can make some sandwiches to take with us for lunch."
Its funny how along with pretending they're living in a village, the outer suburbanites often like to pretend they live in a cottage. I suppose Emma's place was rather like a cottage. It was built in what is called the "Federation Style."
I only had vague memories of the place but on my only other visit when Emma had just moved in and the place had still been at the cluttered stage. Now it was transformed. Emma must have raked the antique furniture shops for miles around, and I had to admit that she'd done it with style.
Her most prized piece of furniture was a magnificent four poster bed. She said it had come over with the First Fleet, but I think she'd been conned. Why would a four poster bed be brought over with a lot of convicts?
Conned or not it was a fine piece of furniture, but not totally authentic because Emma had ordered a special mattress to be made, together with covers. They had to be specially made because the bed wasn't a standard size.
Emma displayed the excellence of the mattress by bouncing up and down on it a few times, and she invited me to test it for myself. It was certainly better than the mattress I had on my own bed. I wondered somewhat enviously how many men had bounced up and down on Emma in the bed, or more likely, Emma had bounced up and down on them.
The survey over Emma set about preparing the sandwiches and a vacuum flask of coffee, all the time chattering and asking me about my studies, what I did with my leisure time, did I have a girlfriend, and that sort of stuff.
When it came to answering her question about girlfriends, without going into details I told her I was keeping my options open.
She looked at me quizzically and said, "Really; well I suppose you're not in a position to get serious; not until you've finished your studies and have a job." Then she added with a chuckle, "Unless you can find a woman who can afford to keep you."
"Mmm," I replied noncommittally. I'd never looked at it like that since all my attention was focused on female genitalia and not their financial situation.
"We could drive up into the hills and walk there, but there is a trail that starts quite near here; it's a circular walk and goes through some of the forest; there's even some wild life left."
She sighed and went on, "I suppose they'll soon be hacking it down to build more houses; and I thought I'd be getting away from it all by coming here."
The thought crossed my mind that people who want to get away from it all end up by taking it with them.
* * * * * * * *
The sandwiches and thermos were put into a small knapsack which I, playing the gentleman, offered to carry. We set off and after going along a couple of streets we reached the beginning of the trail. It was undulating tree covered country we passed through.
We did spot some kangaroos and a single koala clinging high up on a tree branch.
I suppose as a city boy I'd never properly appreciated the countryside but I found that walk very refreshing. Even the baby making desire Emma had inspired diminished, that is, until we sat down to eat our sandwiches.
Emma sat opposite me, her knees raised and legs slightly parted. The material of her shorts at the groin sculpted the lips of her pudenda and I was in procreation mode again.
I wondered if she was deliberately tantalizing me for a bit of cruel fun; I've heard that there are women who enjoy that sort of thing, but I'd never associated that behaviour with Emma. She'd always been very kind to me when I was a kid, but perhaps now she knew I was sexually aware she'd changed.
Unfulfilled sexual arousal always makes me feel grumpy and Emma seemed to notice this.
"Are you all right," she asked, "you look a bit down."
Down! Far from it; my problem was that I was up.
Pasting on what I hoped was a cheerful countenance I replied, "I'm, fine...fine, just enjoying the peace and quiet," I lied.
