Aunt Paula's Odd Proportions

It was a 400 mile drive from my home to the Penn State campus, where for whatever reason they chose to accept me back in 1977, and while I could have made it in one day my mother convinced me to stop en route to spend a night at my Aunt Paula's place.

Convincing might not be the proper choice of words because I sort of planted that seed of thought when I asked Mom about the best route to take and she said that Aunt Paula's house was about halfway to the college.

"Tommy, I would feel so much better about your driving all that way if you split it up over two days, what with all those crazy drivers and traffic," Mom told me. "Besides, your Aunt Paula likes you very much and I know you were always fond of her too."

"She's okay," I replied which of course was not the way I felt at all.

"Poor Paula. Since Herb left her she has nobody," Mom said. "She's probably very lonely and she said she would love to have you spend a night there with her. Poor Paula."

I was used to hearing Aunt Paula spoken about like that, and I remember when her husband left her a while back my old man made a wisecrack about how it was a miracle she had actually gotten somebody to marry her in the first place.

You see, Aunt Paula was not very attractive and it was easy to tell that my Aunt and father were siblings because they looked so much alike, and obviously that was not a good thing for Paula because they were both tall and geeky looking, with big noses, furry arms and what some might call horse faces.

To be honest though, I spent little time looking at Paula's face because I was too busy trying not to look at her body, and in particular her breasts. The rest of her lanky body was unremarkable, with skinny legs and a virtually non-existent rear end, but oh those breasts.

It was a chicken or the egg thing I suppose. Did I already have a fetish (hate that word) about big breasts or did seeing her one or times a year create this interest in me. I don't know about that but I do know that out of the hundreds of times I abused myself in my formative years, a substantial number of them involved Aunt Paula.

There was a picture taken a few years back that I pirated out of one of our photo albums that I would stare at. It was taken on our patio and showed a picture of Aunt Paula talking with my Mom, and it was a perfect profile shot of her gigantic bust that never failed to get me hard.

I would eventually become less obsessed with busty women as I got older and even married a wonderful woman who barely filled B cups, back then I was boob happy, even going so far as to go through my aunt's suitcase on a visit she made with her now ex-husband.

I dug out a bra to check it out, and as I held it up it seemed like you could drop footballs in those cups and have plenty of room to spare. What interested me most was the size of the harness, but when I looked at the tag in the back all it read was "Custom made by Lily", which I figured meant that whatever size bra Aunt Paula needed, she couldn't get it at Penney's.

So after Mom gave me a tear filled farewell I set out on the 225 mile journey to my aunt's, and I didn't dawdle either because I was anxious to see if Aunt Paula had changed any in the year or so I had seen her.

The trip was uneventful and I got there around noon, which was a good thing because it was a hot day and my 10 year old POS Mercury Cougar had no air that didn't come through a window. Mom's directions weren't bad so I found her house fairly easy.

Aunt Paula's house was small and a bit rundown, but I didn't care about that because I wanted to see my aunt, and as I brought my bag up to the door I keep telling myself - keep making eye contact and don't stare, or at least don't get caught looking. The last time she visited us I got a little sloppy and she might have noticed where I was looking but then again, in her late 40's she must be used to it by now.

I knocked and then rang the bell but no one came to the door. The screen door was locked so I called inside, but still no sign of Aunt Paula. Her car, which looked even more beat than my own, was in the driveway so she had to be here so I walked around to the back.

And there she was, and she could not have dressed better for me if I picked the stuff out myself. She had on white shorts that showcased her knobby knees but on top Aunt Paula was wearing what looked like a white tube-top.

For those unfamiliar with the garment that was really popular back in the 70's, in Britain it was called a boob tube, which was actually a more accurate term for it. Shoulderless and sleeveless and usually short enough to reveal some tummy, it was just a band of fabric that covered a girl's breasts and nothing else. Seeing Aunt Paula in it was a shock since she never really wore things that drew attention to her over-sized bust when she visited.

It might not be something that my aunt would wear in public, but she was just sunning herself in the privacy of her backward, out of view of everyone except her horny nephew. What did I do? I almost announced my arrival but instead moved very slowly towards Aunt Paula, who had shades on, a book in her lap and was unaware of my presence.

What I would have given for a camera because not only was my aunt dressed somewhat provocatively, she was posing for me without knowing it. The chaise lounge she was in was tilted back a bit and Aunt Paula had her hands linked behind her neck, with this position making her incredible breasts stand up more than usual. As for the tube top, it was over-matched by what it was expected to contain.

I kept edging closer, ready to pick up my pace should my aunt notice me moving in on her from the side, and I would have loved to have just stayed where I was for a while because the view was amazing.

I stifled a chuckle when I saw Aunt Paula's armpits, which had always fascinated me for some reason. They were always shaved but whenever she would lift her arms those deep hollows would be coated with a dense 5 o'clock shadow no matter what time it was, and as she reclined there I could see that was still the case.

When I felt I could wait no longer I tried not to startle her when I announced my arrival, and I guess I did okay because she didn't fly out of the lounge chair but chirped a happy hello as she got up to hug me.

As she did I saw she had to rearrange her tube top because they had a tendency to slide and shift around, although that usually occurred more with tube tops when girls didn't have much to hold it up with.

"I knocked and rang the bell." I explained as she hugged me, and I tried to keep my erection from bumping into her as her breasts crushed into my chest.

"I thought it was tomorrow you were arriving," Paula said as she adjusted her tube top again. "Look at me. I'm a mess."

"No you aren't. You're as beautiful as ever," I told her, something I always said to her, and while she probably knew it wasn't true she seemed to enjoy the praise which I suspect she rarely got from anyone else.

"Always the kidder, aren't you Tommy?" she chirped and then took a step back to look at me, which was only fair considering what I had done for the last few minutes. "Look at you. You're as tall as I am now."

"I guess so," I agreed as she put her hand on the top of my head unscientifically, but that gave me a clear view of her nipples which were very prominent in the white cotton band that made it clear that Aunt Paula's breasts were even bigger than I had imagined.

I happened to glance down at myself to see if my boner was dripping through my shorts, something that happened on occasion. It was dry down there but the outline of my cock was very obvious, making me wonder if Aunt Paula had seen that.

"Let me make you lunch. It must be about that time," Aunt Paula said, and as I followed her into the house I got all my looking in on the way since I was sure that my aunt would change her top.

She didn't though, and as she made us sandwiches she talked a blue streak, making me think that she must not have many people to talk to. I almost felt guilty the way I was mentally undressing Aunt Paula, but that feeling wasn't strong enough to stop me.

I pictured myself using a measuring tape to take her measurements like whomever that Lily was that made her bra must have done, all the while enjoying the way that over-matched tube-top kept struggling to contain what seemed like a couple of bowling balls.

Lunch was a distracted affair, and while I think the sandwich tasted good after I finished it I wasn't sure what it was as I consumed it while trying to keep eye contact with my aunt as she talked about how proud she was of me going to college.

Aunt Paula's glasses would slide down her nose and stop at the little hook on the bridge, exposing her bushy eyebrows for a glorious second before she pushed them back up and blocked them. Her big brown eyes looked bigger through the glasses as we conversed, all the while I used my apparently non-existent mental powers to make her top slide down like her glasses did so I could see more cleavage.

Finally Aunt Paula told me that she had the guest bedroom ready for me and I followed her down so she could show me where it was, my eyes on her long legs which weren't very shapely but seemed to never end, and it hit me that despite my being 6' tall or so my aunt might be a shade taller than me, and she was wearing flat sandals besides.

The room was fine, a bit girly but since I was just going to be there one or hopefully two nights it would serve the purpose. I set my bag in a chair on the side and after checking the springs on the bed went to the bathroom to tap my kidneys and wash up.

The act of peeing was a bit painful since the tip of my dick was fused to my underwear thanks to my member drooling since I got there, but I freed myself and after going and washing up went back to my room to unpack a little.

When I went over and put Aunt Paula's picture on the dresser and stacked a few things out, I decided that a change of underwear was needed so I went about the act of undressing and peeling off the stained underwear.

Looking up at my reflection I looked at my cock swaying in front of me in it's perpetual state of readiness, although the readiness did not usually involve anything but my palm getting a workout. The unfamiliar surroundings did not affect me and besides, the room smelled a little like Aunt Paula and there was a box of tissues and a push-top bottle of lotion there so I yanked a few out, oiled up and got busy.

"What if this is actually a one-way mirror?" I mumbled quietly, not wanting to be heard if the room I imagined being under surveillance was also bugged, with my aunt on the other side of the glass watching intently.

"Oh Tommy," I thought of Aunt Paula saying as she watched me jack off with her picture in front of me and my fists working faster. "Your cock is huge. I must have it."

It was my fantasy, so while my dick is definitely larger than average in length its slenderness disqualifies it from huge status in real life, that was what I thought of her saying.

As my stroking quickened I closed my eyes, since seeing myself in the mirror with my face red and my neck muscles throbbing while my legs were bent a bit was disconcerting. Besides, I had that fresh image of Aunt Paula in that tank-top which was even better than the picture, so I was in overdrive.

As I neared orgasm I made sure the tissues were ready to catch what felt like a sizable imminent deposit on the way, and as was my custom I slowed my fist almost to a crawl, something I had learned through years of study made the orgasm more intense and last longer.

The sounds I made were stifled, sounding like a snort/squeak leaking out of my nose as I came, while my intense orgasm was making my knees turn to jelly. "Mm - mm - mm", I grunted in time with my spitting cock as my life altering orgasm came to an end.

Life altering? It felt great but it wasn't that which made the event so memorable. Instead it was the appearance of my Aunt Paula entering the room with a stack of towels in the crook of her arm as she turned the knob that did it.

Exactly where I was in my self-abuse I'm not sure because I had my eyes close and was busy at the time the door actually opened, but I sense it was just as I was cumming, probably with my expression one of my "fuck faces" that only one girl had since before.

The result was probably comical with Aunt Paula freezing in shock and the towels falling from her grasp while I crouched there with one hand of deflating dick and the other with cum-filled tissues. Finally I apologized and tried to help Aunt Paula pick up while keeping myself covered up.

"Sorry Tommy. The bathroom door," I heard my aunt say as she kinda tossed the towels on the dresser next to her picture and made an exit while saying she, "didn't know - the door was closed."

At that moment I was upset because of course the door was closed, but later I would learn that Aunt Paula was referring to the BATHROOM door being closed. She thought I was still in there so was just bringing fresh towels for me to use to the guest room.

I would explain that I had closed the bathroom door after I was done using it even though common practice suggested it should stay open like most people leave theirs, but we couldn't do that at home because we have a cat and he can't be trusted in the bathroom because he has a habit of going in and playing with the toilet paper roll until he paws the whole 1000 sheets or whatever onto the floor.

Aunt Paula and I would laugh like hell about that afterward but as for that moment I wasn't amused at all. Instead my eyes were on my car on the other side of the blinds, and all I had to do was climb out with my stuff and hightail it to college while avoiding my aunt of the rest of my life.

The more I thought about that scenario though, the less good it sounded. Not that I was adverse to running away from problems, but this one was not one I could avoid for long. Since I already proved I had an active imagination, it was not tough to imagine the phone call to Mom that would come after Aunt Paula figured out I was gone.

"Susan!" my aunt would say when my Mom would answer the phone, and Mom would get upset at the frantic tone of Aunt Paula's voice and ask what was wrong.

"Your son! That's what's wrong!" she would say to her sister-in-law. "Tommy's gone. The window of the guest room was open and his car is gone. The sneaky pervert climbed out and ran."

Of course my mother would realize what her sister-in-law had just called her perfect little angel and would demand to know what was going on down there because she didn't raise no perverts.

"I went into his room to give him fresh towels and he was standing in the room as naked as a jaybird staring at a picture of you and me while masturbating like a lunatic in an asylum. Masturbating!" Aunt Paula would cry. "In my guest room."

"What brought this on?" Mom would ask and Aunt Paula would feign ignorance.

"I don't know. He got here, stared at me a lot. I made him a turkey sandwich and ice tea - decaffeinated ice tea mind you," my aunt would relate. "Then he excuses himself and the next thing you know he's spanking the monkey, and he was just here about an hour!"

Hearing that my mother would either say that Paula was nuts or perhaps upon reflection might just think of the countless tissues and frozen socks she had probably seen in recent times and just said, "Hey, he's a teenage boy."

Of course I knew that kind of conversation who never happen but the truth would come out, so what I did was go back out to the living area and confront the problem and Aunt Paula. I waited well over an hour though, closer to two in fact.

I decided to pretend at the start that nothing was wrong, and I noted that Aunt Paula had changed into a nice sleeveless yellow blouse with a bra on underneath when I joined her out on her patio. The tension was there however, so when Aunt Paula got up and asked if I had any preferences for dinner, I told her I needed to talk to her.

"Inside Tommy," Aunt Paula said, and so I followed her inside.

When she offered me a drink I accepted, although I asked for a little coke in my Jim Beam while Aunt Paula drank hers straight. My aunt led me into the living room and sat on one end of a love seat so I sat on the other so I could have someplace to set my drink, something the chair on the side didn't offer.

"Look," I began while trying not to look at my aunt's breasts or eyes. "About what happened before..."

"I'm sorry about that," Aunt Paula said. "Truly. I thought you were still in the bathroom because the door was closed."

I stopped her there and told her about the bathroom door and how I was so used to having to close it because of the cat and his toilet paper fetish, and when I finished Aunt Paula laughed and remembered our pet from when she visited last.

"Still, I should have just knocked."

"You had your hands full," I alibied for her but she shook her head.

"I had the towels in one hand and was able to open the door with the other, so a knock was something I could have done," Aunt Paula explained. "That may be the only thing I did today that really was an accident."

Unsure of what that meant, I decided to tackle the elephant in the room.

"It wouldn't have mattered if I wasn't doing something I shouldn't have done - not in somebody else's house," I apologized. "I really hope that you can forget - well maybe you won't be able to forget but..."

"That was my fault," Aunt Paula told me, and when my face gave away the fact that I was really confused she elaborated. "Right from the moment you arrived and saw me dressed like I was."

"You weren't expecting me Aunt Paula. You said you thought I was getting here tomorrow," I reminded her but she shook her head.

"That was a lie," she told me. "I knew when you were coming. I've been looking forward to seeing you ever since you mother asked if I would mind you stopping on your way to college."

"And when you knocked on the front door and rang the bell I heard you, so that was a lie," Paula continued as she swiveled more on the couch to face me. "As you can tell, I haven't been very forthcoming."

"Those aren't really lies," I suggested. "More like fibs."

"Regardless. When you came in the back yard I was watching for you. It's why I wore the shades so you couldn't see my eyes. You stood there looking at me for almost 2 minutes as you slowly approached me," Paula admitted. "Then when I pretended to be surprised when you got right up to me? Another lie - or fib."

"As for what I was wearing, that tube top wasn't so much of a lie as it was - don't know what I would call that? A desperate attempt by an old woman to get a boy to look at her? I would never wear that anywhere of course because I know what I looked like, but I don't have any flattering clothes and doubt they make any that actually would, but I was just hoping - I don't know what I was hoping."

"I thought you looked nice in it," I told her, although when I started to say sexy instead of nice I think she caught me.

"That's because you're the sweetest boy I've ever met. By far the relative I love the most," Paula said. "I've also been able to figure out you have a little crush on me for some reason. Well, I know the reasons..."

"No you don't," I protested but she shook her head.

"It's okay," she countered. "I'm used to it, but when you look at least you don't snicker or make comments. People don't think I can hear them but I do. She looks like a stork with udders is the most common one."

Aunt Paula then proceeded to list all the names she was given and all the wisecracks and comments I had heard cousins and even my parents make at family gatherings behind her back, including a couple that were new to me.