The Thanksgiving Dinner hand job from Aunt Helen was just about the most erotic event in my young life. If you haven't read my last submission you should check it out. Prior to the Thanksgiving Day hand job I slept with my mom's sister, Aunt Helen, and shot a load of cum over her tits and belly. Then a few weeks later, she gave me a sneaky hand job under a blanket with my dad and uncle watching football in the same room.
I had absolutely no remorse over my sexual activities with Aunt Helen. She was hot, sexy and I wanted more. She also wanted more of me and she made no secret of it. She constantly reached behind me and rubbed my ass whenever she could get away with it, or brushed her hand lightly against my dick at every opportunity. Still, we had not fucked conventionally. My dick had never entered her pussy. Our last erotic activity was in November.
In February I drove to Atlanta to take my girlfriend Cheryl to a concert on a Saturday night. Cheryl and I had still not gone "all the way", for some crazy reason known only to her. She was a warm and affectionate girl and was crazy about me, but anything beyond a hand job or me fingering her to orgasm was off limits.
I would not see Cheryl until Saturday, so Friday night was free. I arrived at Aunt Helen's apartment and entered with my own key. Aunt Helen had left a note asking me to meet her at Jalapeno's, a little Mexican place about a block from her apartment. I debated showering first since I had worked out before making the trip to Atlanta and was still dressed in sweats. I was eager to meet Aunt Helen, said what the fuck, skipped the shower and headed out the door to meet her.
At the bar there was a pitcher of margaritas on the table in front of Aunt Helen. She introduced me to a few of her friends around the table who worked with her at the bank. The atmosphere was cheery and I shook hands all around, exchanging stiff greetings. Aunt Helen was the exception. She leaned over and kissed me on the lips, with a slight bit of tongue action too. I knew Aunt Helen had to be tipsy because we didn't kiss on the mouth in public, and certainly not with tongues.
We drank the pitcher of margaritas and ordered another one. We ate chips and dip, quesadillas and an assortment of bar food but that didn't keep us from getting a huge tequila buzz. After a couple of hours we said goodbye to the bank crowd and headed for the apartment. We walked along holding hands, laughing and singing a Hank Williams tune, "Hey good lookin, what ya got cookin, hows about cookin something up with me!"