Aunty June had said it was a two hour drive to her house, and it was, almost to the minute. That didn't surprise me, she was always very precise about everything she said and did. She was the sort of person you might respect, but you would probably not like.
During the journey there was very little conversation. I did try, but when she said "I need to concentrate on the driving," I realised she wasn't interested in talking. One thing she did say when we had been in the car for about an hour was, "If you want the toilet you will have to wait, I am not stopping for you." Fortunately I could wait, but I did wonder what she would have done if I had needed to go before we got to her place.
"This is your room, please keep it tidy."
I was tempted to wave my bandaged hands at her, but I had the good sense not to.
"I suppose you need the toilet?"
"Yes." I could wait a bit longer but best to get it over and done with.
"Your Mother tells me that she unzips you, and then you do it standing up. I want you to sit down."
She didn't say it, but the implication was that Mother had been doing it wrong.
With very little fuss my trousers and underwear were soon around my ankles and I was sitting on the toilet. She must have seen my cock, but there was no reaction from her. She gave the impression that this was a distasteful job that needed to be done as quickly as possible. When I had finished she pulled my underwear and trousers up, a bit too quick for my liking, fortunately nothing got trapped.
It was another three hours before I needed to go again, as before she had me on the toilet in record time. When I had finished I stood up and then waited for her to pull everything up, but she didn't move.
"Last time there were a few drops on the floor, I need to shake it before I dress you."
As she held my cock I closed my eyes, I was expecting here to be rough, however she was surprisingly gentle, even tender. When I opened my eyes I could see the concentration on her face, but what I noticed most was that her tongue was partially out, moving against her lips. If I didn't know better I would have said she was enjoying it.
She had said shake it, but what she was doing felt more like an examination. It ended with her squeezing it tight, then after a few seconds releasing it.
"All done."
This time she was careful with my underwear, making sure that it wasn't too tight on me, at one point she even cradled my balls while she adjusted it. When my trousers were back up she gave me a smile.
"Thanks Aunty."
"Your Mother said that this would be awkward at first but that I would get used to it. I think she was right on both counts."
I just nodded, happy that there was now a bit of warmth between us. I was just about to leave when she spoke again.
"And next time it might be quicker if I just unzip you," there was a brief hesitation before she added "And then hold it."
An hour later I got a call from mother, she was just seeing that everything was OK. Aunty was upstairs, I asked Mother if she wanted to speak to her but I got a quick no. When the call ended I decided not to mention it to her. I might be being unkind but it wouldn't surprise me that if she found out that Mother had been speaking to me she would see it as her sister checking up on her, and she might even be annoyed by it. I wondered if Mother was thinking the same thing. She had said that she was busy at work and might find it difficult to find the time to call me again, but that sounded like an excuse. It might be better for me if I also didn't ring her.
I spent the rest of the afternoon watching television and reading, but I also spent a lot of time thinking about Aunty. I didn't know what to make of what had happened earlier. When Mother had first seen and handled my cock it was obvious she was excited by it. However understanding Aunty June was more difficult, and what about her saying that next time she would just unzip me? Was she just being practical or was it an excuse so that she would get to hold my cock for longer?
I also remembered something my friend David had said some time ago about his Aunty Anne. I have met her a few times and she is very much like Aunty June, except worse. He always refers to her as "That stuck up bitch." However one day, without any preamble, he said to me "I would love to fuck that bitch." I had no idea who he was talking about, when he told me it was his Aunty Anne it surprised and shocked me, I asked him why?
"Can you just imagine getting her on her back, then holding her legs open as wide as possible and sticking your cock deep up her cunt? You fuck her hard and she begs for more."
He was obviously excited by the idea, and I went along with his fantasy by agreeing with him that indeed it would be awesome, but I wasn't convinced. I thought of Aunty June and I imagined doing the same to her, it just left me cold. However I was now starting to see the appeal of doing it. I had seen the flicker of emotion in her and perhaps, under that stern exterior, there was a passionate woman that actually liked to be fucked.
Aunty and Mother are very much alike in appearance, maybe they are also alike in bed as well? Mother is the elder by five years, fucking Aunty would be like fucking a younger version of her. I smiled, that would be something I would definitely enjoy.
However the next time she had hold of my cock it was with a light touch, just enough to do the job. She had unzipped me, as she had said she would do, but there was not even a hint of anything inappropriate.
I went to bed early, just after nine. I wasn't that tired but it felt awkward watching television with her, I got the feeling she wished I wasn't there. I read for about an hour then I drifted off to sleep.
Aunty woke me at eight, I was still sleepy and it took me a few seconds to realise what was going on.
"You can't stay in bed all day, I have jobs to do."
I rubbed my eyes, "I am still tired."
"You are not at home now."
It was clear from her tone what she meant, 'Your Mother spoils you and gives you everything you want, but this is my house, my rules'.
As she dressed me I gave her a weak smile, it's all I could manage. Mother would never wake me, but I wasn't going to say that, it would only strengthen her opinion of me that I was a spoilt child.
Breakfast was good, and when I complemented her on it she seemed to be genuinely pleased. Lunch was a quick snack but the evening meal was almost a feast. I need to be careful, if this is her standard of cooking then it would be easy to add a few pounds even though I was only staying with her for two weeks.
"That was wonderful."
I meant it, and I could see from her face that she was pleased with herself.
"You go and watch television while I tidy up."
Half an hour later I heard her shout from the kitchen, "Adam, you need a bath before bedtime."
I shouted back, "OK, ready when you are."
I smiled, it was a pleasant surprise, I hadn't expected that.
The bathroom was a lot bigger than at home, and the bath looked as if it could easily accommodate two people. Did she share it with Uncle Bill? I was tempted to suggest that she should get in with me, just to make it easier when she washed me, but that was not very subtle. It would just sound as if I wanted to get her into the bath for another reason, which was true.
