Razy Aunt Ate

Authors note: This story is meant for my female readers in particular. If you have an Aunt Kate, you know you love her despite her bewildering ways. A woman who is far worldlier than you ever want to be, but one who is firmly on your side as a woman and wants your life to be filled with love and happiness. We all need different perspectives in our life, so if you're an Aunt Kate, or a little less so, bless you!

Krazy Aunt Kate

By Rachel Anne Wallace

I looked at my Aunt Kate in disbelief. She was siding with my boyfriend! I was sure she didn't know why I wasn't pleased with him, but then I really didn't want her to know. Some things you simply don't talk about with anyone other than your partner, and this topic was at the top of the list. I hadn't noticed she was standing just inside the hallway where she could hear us clearly as I laid out my disappointment.

It had all started last night after Peter and I had arrived at the family reunion held at my parents' home. Peter had flat out told me he was too tired and thought it would be better if we waited until after we got back home anyway. Maybe I should have been more understanding, but I wanted his attention regardless and didn't want to wait—after all he was a man. At least no one else in the family had heard our exchange, particularly my mother—the topic I was sure would have put her over the top. Her unmarried daughter shouldn't even have been thinking of such a thing at the reunion. Peter had slept on the pull out bed on the back porch the previous night, his usual spot when we stayed at my parents' home.

To be honest, Peter had been gentle in his suggestion, saying he wanted to be at his best for me and that would be in the morning. How that translated into something my Aunt Kate understood was a surprise—as she was my mother's younger unmarried sister and I didn't expect her to know a thing about it. When she saw the expression on my face she smiled.

"Pam, I think maybe we should go into the backyard and talk about things your mother has never told you."

I looked at her, then glanced at Peter. He grew a grin, then elected to leave the room as if someone had summoned him. After Peter left, I turned to my aunt feeling the need to feign injury that she would have taken Peter's side about something she knew little or nothing about.

"You shouldn't have said anything, I mean...well...it was between Peter...and...not something I want to divulge to anyone else."

"Was it because it would embarrass you, or because you hadn't been considerate enough of his position?"

I was sure she hadn't a clue as to what we had been talking about and decided to deflect her insinuation that I hadn't been understanding enough. I was about to reply when she pointed to the door leading to the backyard. We walked out and sat down in two of the lawn chairs placed on the perfectly manicured lawn—a yard that a rabbit would have had had to pack food supplies in to survive for the day.

"Pam, I'm six years younger than your mother. Do you think I don't know anything about men or about sex?"

I was completely startled by her question. My god she did know what we were talking about! But more than that, I had never given a thought to her private life—after all, she was single, never married, and spent a lot of time with family. I sat numbly, thinking to myself, what do I say now?

I slowly composed myself, "I don't know, I guess I thought..."

"Just because I'm not married doesn't mean I'm clueless about men and sex. I'm going to tell you a few things about men and sex your mother would never tell you—it seems overdue to me. Things that I've learned as a woman that have been hard-won and sometimes painful. You have a wonderful boyfriend and don't seem to recognize it. This is the third time over the past year I've met him, so I know you're committed enough to want to have a future with him, or am I wrong?"

I was taken aback by her directness, but then Aunt Kate had never been shy about asserting herself when she felt it was necessary, even with my mother. It took a while as I looked at her pensively, "No, you're right. I do want our relationship to grow."

"Okay, you admit that. Now, I'm not going to be genteel or timid about this. I'm going to tell you in plain unadulterated English so you'll understand. None of this watered-down drivel they tell you in books, sex education class, or women's magazines. You may be shocked, but it'll stick with you—you won't forget my words for a while. Does that sound alright, or shall I simply tell you to appreciate him more and walk away?"

I felt myself grow a little anxious not knowing exactly where this was going—though I had to admit my mother had told me very little about sex other than explain the basic mechanics and to not to have sex until I was married—which up to three weeks ago I had been able to do. I set my jaw, my heart beating just a little bit faster, and looked her in the eye; maybe I really didn't have anything to lose. "No, I want to hear what you have to say."

"Well, to start off with let's get right down to basics—you're a woman and he's a man."

I nodded, not a thing vague about that statement; maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

"You have a pussy and he has a cock, dick, penis, one-eyed snake, whatever you want to call it. Right?"

The look on my face must have told her I was more than a little shocked at the language. Crap, so much for my previous thought. My mother never, never, ever would say something like this to me. I nodded my head slowly and swallowed hard—thinking maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this. I was trying to think of an excuse to leave when she continued even before I had answered—she was on a roll.

"Now, your pussy wants his cock and his cock wants your pussy. When that happens and you try to stop it from happening it causes friction, something you've been dealing with for months. After all, you're a healthy young woman and have strong urges. You held off as long as you could and then...well, hormones being what they are, you went for it—bam! Your virginity is gone and you really didn't give a damn afterwards because it felt so good. Am I right so far?"

I nodded again, basically stunned, not able to find words as my expression went passive and my mind wandered. It hadn't been a bam, but more of a...a...prod, poke, poke, gasp, oh, it's in, that's not bad, geez this feels pretty good, no not pretty good, real good, geez does it have to end already I was just getting relaxed. I can't believe he put that whole thing into me, but it fit, damn that felt good. Then I heard Aunt Kate's voice again.

"I understand both of you have been going slowly, and Peter being what, four, five, years older, has been loving and patient, not pushing you to have sex. Right?"

"Yes, he's five years older, and no, he hasn't ever pushed me to do anything more than I was comfortable with." Now, I was even more amazed that she knew any of this.

"I didn't think so. He's always seemed confident and interested in making you happy. It's not been all that hard to see he wanted a long-term relationship with you—at least not to me. A man who's willing to forego getting his cock into you as soon as he can is usually an indication he wants more than hot, sloppy, smelly, sex as often as you'll spread your legs wide."

I heard myself give a small gasp at the graphic words 'sloppy, smelly, sex'—it was all of that, and I had never known it would be until that first night. She did know and there was obviously only one sure way she did—why hadn't I recognized it before. I hated to admit it, but I had never thought of it—she was one gorgeous woman, my mother was beautiful, but Aunt Kate was one step higher. I had always wondered why she hadn't married and assumed she had 'guy friends,' but not...well...sex partners. I looked at her as a small smile crossed her face.

"Well, I see I've scored a point. Now, I'm going to go out on a limb a bit. But my guess is you've been having intercourse, getting royally fucked as it were, for about three weeks. At first, it felt pretty good. You weren't entirely relaxed despite how gentle and patient Peter was, but once you understood what you were doing, or rather, what was being done to you, you relaxed and it got even better. What really changed everything was when you experienced your first full-blown orgasm, right?"

I swallowed hard again, this was getting right down and dirty. Good god, she had just scored another five points! I knew when I nodded my head in the affirmative that I had a little smile on my face. I couldn't help it as I relived the experience in my mind—Peter's big, firm cock had worked its magic on me and the pleasure it had produced made everything else I had ever experienced in my life pale by comparison. Even that memorable first kiss from that hunk Kenny Boyd under the bleachers in high school fell off the chart entirely. I smiled and she took it I was ready for more.

"Now, one thing about young men is when they're new to sex they listen to their penis first, then their brain. Often, as they get older and more experienced, they listen with their dick first less often, but not often enough if a woman wants to get fucked and offers herself to him. Women more often think about having sex first, weigh the risk and benefit, and then decide to get laid or not. Peter is older and experienced. He thinks with his head first and when you offered... Well...he didn't say no because he knew you had thought about it enough to know he could trust your decision and not jeopardize his long-term goals."

That seemed to make sense now more than ever. I had admitted to myself long ago Peter was experienced and had really never thought about it since. Now, I wondered—had he met a girl like Aunt Kate? More than one? I looked at Aunt Kate and wondered—do I dare ask?

"Pam, I can tell you have a question. Come on, just ask it. It's only the two of us."

Please don't take this the wrong way. But, if guys are like that, do you still find them attractive?

She smiled broadly, "Now that I'm older, I recognize the signs of a mature man better than before. So, to be honest, it depends on how I feel at the time an opportunity presents itself. If I want some really hot, guy for a few hours, a young stud will do just fine as I know I'm going to enjoy his passion—maybe he'll get me off, maybe he won't. If I want to get laid well, and I mean once that night, maybe twice, I want an experienced man who will let me get on top and screw him to the bed until I'm so sloppy wet I've got him drenched in pussy juice.

I just need to know what it is I want. Now, at my age I know pretty well when I want that less passionate, but more experienced and competent man to entertain me. It's a trade-off between one and the other. But there's absolutely nothing better in the world than having satisfying sex that gives you an orgasm. You know that now as Peter has given it to you."

She was right of course. Peter had given me that after a few weeks. I smiled to myself. I could blame Peter for having seduced me and taken advantage of me. But he hadn't, I had told him I was ready and wanted him to do it. He didn't take anything from me that I hadn't been willing to give. I realized love was needed in my case, but in Aunt Kate's life, she didn't need to be in love, only respected for who she was and what she wanted for an outcome. I smiled at my mother's description of her—man crazy Kate.

I sat for a few seconds thinking on what Aunt Kate had said, then decided to ask a question I hadn't thought of before. "Have you ever watched porn? I asked Peter to watch it one time with me and I found it pretty disgusting, even on the website that said it was female porn."

She looked at me with a serious expression, "What did Peter say when you asked him?"

"He told me it wasn't something I would like and that he found most of it disturbing. He said seeing women portrayed that way was a male fantasy, not the way loving couples treat each other."

"Then why did he watch it with you?"

"He said I may as well get it out of my system and we would never do it again. He was right, I don't ever want to see something like that again."

"Why did you make up your mind to that? Didn't it turn you on?"

"I admit it did a little, but not much. I mean when I saw the women's faces it didn't look like they were enjoying it for real. We watched the porn just last week for less than two hours. I was able to compare it with how we made love, so I knew the difference between what we did and what it showed. Peter told me he would never treat me like that after we finished watching."

"Honey, any time a man suggests he wants you to act like some woman he saw in a porn flick is the time you turn away and run like hell. He's not, I repeat, not, the kind of man you want to have sex with. I'd say you're lucky—Peter knows the difference and despite his own feelings let you experience it so you could form your own opinion. I hope you realize that."

"I do now more than ever," I admitted

Aunt Kate leaned towards me with a grin, "I bet you don't moan and scream like those women either, do you?"

I realized now I didn't. Not that I didn't make noise, I did when I got to the end the last few times, but Peter and I communicated with each other a little to make it fun and enjoyable. Other than that, I was mostly quiet until the very end when I couldn't help but make a few sounds.

"No, I don't," I smiled.

Her last few questions told me she had watched porn and I decided it was answer enough for me.

"Pam, I know how strong the drive is to get more—the times when you want it so badly it aches. The ache can't be cured with a vibrator or your own fingers, in fact, not even by his fingers and tongue. You want that cock inside you, you want to feel him press you down into the mattress, his breath hot in your ear as he rocks you gently beneath him. That's what your pussy wants, it doesn't want anything else—you want to be laid hard and firm, screwed like you're the last woman on earth he adores. You know your pussy can't get worn out and his dick is the ticket to your pleasure, that's what you want."

I felt myself grow warm, moist, as my mind produced an image of Peter laboring over me, my legs spread wide, at times my legs wrapped around him, my arms grasping his shoulders pulling him against me, my breasts pushed outward as he repeatedly thrust into me, gently at first, then harder as I grew near the tipping point that sent me to paradise on earth.

I heard myself make a small noise, I'm not sure it was even a word. I felt myself breathe deeply and realized I needed to turn my mind back to Aunt Kate. I looked at her and heard my disembodied voice say the words, "Aunt Kate, you know exactly how I felt. I mean mother never told me anything like this. That sex would be like that."

"Does that surprise you? You certainly didn't expect me to know, did you? You think your mother should have told you because she's married and has children. You know she had sex as she had you and your siblings. She probably didn't tell you how good sex is because she didn't want to encourage you to have it too soon—though in my experience few girls really pay attention to those admonishments. That is, unless they have a strong personal desire to delay having sex or a strong religious conviction—believing if you do you're going to hell if you do it before marriage."

I looked at her a little bewildered, "I guess it surprised me as I didn't think you liked men, because...well... if you did you'd be married already. I mean, I know most of my girlfriends have had sex long before I did, so that doesn't surprise me, but you're so much older. I suppose I just thought you...well...maybe had bad experiences with men and decided you didn't want to have anything to do with them."

I watched as a broad smile grew and spread across her face, then she chuckled. "Honey, it's different for all of us, your mother has only known one man her entire life, your father, and that's just fine. Just as it would be for you if Peter were the only man to shove his cock into you during your lifetime. But I like men and I love the pleasure they give me. No, I didn't remain unmarried because I wanted to avoid sex—I did it so I could have more. I love to have sex and wanted to experience a variety of men and how they behave before I finally settle down. I stopped counting how many men I've enjoyed once I reached twenty."

"Twenty!" I exclaimed, then I looked around hoping I hadn't been too loud.

"More, but it's not the number that counts, not really. I receive pleasure and give it too. That's why falling in love with the right man is important. I'm an oddball, crazy, right? I've had more cocks in me than half a dozen women together have experienced in their lifetimes," she laughed.

Then she took her hand and placed it on my arm, then removed it. "One time I sat down and decided to calculate how many cock-inches I had enjoyed over three months, then stopped. It didn't make any sense, it was a number without any real meaning to anyone but me—I was sure no other woman had ever thought of calculating the number of times she had sex times the length of an average penis."

I expressed my shock at the statement, "It's... it is crazy, I mean average penis size, I thought they were all the same, they have to be."

Aunt Kate laughed and looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes, "Honey, they come in different sizes, circumcised and not, colors, some straight, some curved, some nice and firm, some almost hard, others softer and more flexible. They have different shapes and girths. If I learned anything it's that size really doesn't matter as much as you would think. If a man with a six or seven-inch cock does you, it doesn't make it better than a five-and-a-half-inch cock. He has to put it in the right place first, if he doesn't listen to you and work with you to put it where you need it, his size doesn't matter—it's just a dick attached to an ineffective, uncaring man.

My mind seemed jumbled and twisted as I heard the words—I was actually engaged in talking about men's private parts that up until Peter's I had only seen on boys in diapers and only relatively recently had even touched.

"Honey, is it starting to make sense?"

I began to understand as the words sunk in—that was the reason Peter always asked me if it was feeling good for me and telling me to change position as I needed. I had no idea that was why he was asking me. In fact, my first orgasm had come about as he hitched higher up on me when I asked him to, then when I told him it felt really good he went on to take me all the way. Damn! Peter tried really hard to please me and I didn't even know it. I didn't say anything but gave a slight nod.

"I see the lights are coming on," Aunt Kate said softly, her eyes looking into mine.

"I had no idea, I mean I just assumed it happened more by chance, not by design. I thought I had just gotten lucky that time."

"Pam, think about it. Luck? How many times after that first orgasm do you want to attribute to luck? I'll bet you've had far more orgasms since. That's not luck, it's teamwork and caring that does that. I'll guess Peter takes the time to make sure you're fully ready before he ever shoves into you. He makes sure there's enough foreplay to prepare you. Once you're wet and he goes all in after several thrusts, then both of you rest for several seconds to enjoy the feeling. You like the full feeling it gives you, then you adjust so you're comfortable, then you get into a rhythm and only change when you go tight around him. Right."

I nodded, that was exactly what we did. He would check to see if I was feeling good then I would tell him if it was. Now, if I didn't feel what I wanted I told him, and we changed things until I did—it was teamwork...well...that and the fact he loved me and wanted the best for me. Why I hadn't looked at it that way before? Then it dawned on me—why would I? It was a new experience and I was just learning. Shoot! He knew exactly what to do to me from the very first time—he had experienced a lot of pussy before he ever got into mine.