Auntie Jenn
Chapter 01 - Witnessing Intimacy
I was having trouble falling asleep. I tossed and turned restlessly for hours, but frustratingly, sleep eluded me. It was one of those nights where my mind wouldn't stop racing, and the harder I tried to shut it down, the more impossible it became.
I was more than a little apprehensive about my academic future. I had just graduated from high school and been accepted to Redlands University in California, where I hoped to earn a degree in music. In just three months, I would be leaving my childhood home in Henderson, Nevada, and relocating to California for the fall semester.
Exasperated, I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes, watching the shadows on the ceiling as the wind stirred the tree branches outside my window. I raised my arms and tucked my hands behind my head. Resigned to my sleeplessness, I decided I might as well give up and read another chapter of my book.
I heard the car coming long before it turned onto our street. The low rumble of Michael's souped-up 1968 Chevrolet Camaro was unmistakable.
I turned my head to look at my bedside clock. It was well after two o'clock in the morning; Michael was getting my Auntie Jenn home rather late.
Michael was, in my opinion, a pretty decent guy, considering the difference in our ages; he never talked down to me and loved to show me around under the hood of his Chevy. He held the somewhat dubious distinction of being my Auntie's latest boyfriend.
I say "dubious" because most of Auntie's boyfriends had been losers and assholes, and none of her short-lived relationships lasted more than a month or two. So far, Michael seemed to be the exception to the rule; they had been dating for almost four months now.
At fifty years of age, Auntie Jenn had never managed to settle down with anyone. She had never married and seemed to prefer only casual love affairs.
I heard the engine rev as Michael pulled into our driveway and watched the headlights illuminate my bedroom as they briefly swept across my window. Rolling onto my stomach, I peered down from my bed. From my second-story window, I had a clear view of the driveway below. I watched as Michael brought his car to a stop and switched off the headlights.
The porch light, directly beneath my bedroom window, illuminated the interior of the car through the windshield, giving me an unobstructed view of Michael and Auntie sitting close together on the bench seat.
I watched absently as they smiled at each other and chatted. I couldn't help but notice that Auntie's dress was raised rather high on her legs, well above mid-thigh. Not that I minded; despite her age, Auntie's legs were gorgeous.
I watched enthralled as she turned her body toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing her dress to rise even higher. Michael returned her embrace and they began to kiss.
I almost gasped aloud as their kiss grew more and more passionate. With the porch light streaming through the windshield, I could clearly see their lips parted and moving sensually together.
While I had often seen similar love scenes passionately portrayed on television and movie screens, I had rarely been a live witness to the sensuality of two lovers kissing so intimately and I was instantly overwhelmed by the alluring sexuality of their intimacy. As I stared in fascinated wonder, my cock sprang to erection so quickly that it was almost painful.
As they continued to kiss, slowly and sensually, Auntie traced her fingertips gently over Michael's cheek as their mouths crushed together passionately. I felt a warm flush of excitement rush to my cheeks, and my eyes widened even more to suddenly see Michael raise his hand to my Auntie's breast. He cupped her in his hand, his fingers moving gently against her.
Suddenly their lips parted and I could almost hear Auntie sigh with pleasure as she laid her head back onto the back of the car seat. Michael leaned forward and put his face into her neck. Auntie's eyes closed and her mouth opened, her fingers entwined in Michael's hair as he kissed her neck, his hand continued to move on her breast.
As I watched, Michael took his hand from her breast and lowered it to her thigh. He slid his hand slowly up her leg and under the hem of her dress. Auntie's body seemed to flinch and she pushed his head away from her. They talked again for a moment, their faces very close. With a frown, Auntie pushed his arm and his hand came from beneath her dress.
Michael leaned forward and they began to kiss once more, seemingly forcing himself on her as she continued to protest. His hand slid up beneath her dress once more. This time, when Auntie pulled away from him, I could see the anger on her face. They seemed to argue and I watched as Auntie pulled her dress down and slid away from him. They talked a little more, sitting apart, with Auntie's arms folded defensively over her chest.
After a moment, she turned toward him once more and he leaned toward her. They kissed once more, briefly. The interior of Michael's car was suddenly brightly lit as she opened the passenger door and slid out of the vehicle. She leaned in and they spoke again briefly. I heard her laugh lightly and then she closed the door.
The headlights switched on, illuminating my room, and I crouched down lest either of them see me. Auntie waved as Michael backed the car from the driveway. He made a very light toot of his horn and then sped away.
A moment later, I heard the key in the latch as Auntie unlocked the front door. She switched on the living room light, its glow brightening the gap beneath my bedroom door.
I lay on my bed, my cheeks still flushing warmly from the display of intimacy I had witnessed. In my mind, I kept seeing Michael's hand on her breast, his fingers moving against her, and I couldn't help but wonder what it must have felt like to touch her breast like that. My erection ached and, even though the intimate show had ended, it did not seem at all inclined to recede.
I touched myself, stroking my cock lightly with just my fingertips, teasing myself as I imagined how smooth and warm Auntie's legs must have felt to Michael with his hand up beneath her dress.
I heard a soft sound and stopped, listening intently. There it was again--a faint noise, almost like a baby's cry or a whimper. I heard it again, and I suddenly realized it had to be Auntie making those sounds. Was she crying?
Concerned, I pushed the blankets aside and slipped out of bed. I tiptoed to my bedroom door, pressing my ear against the narrow gap between the door and the frame. At first, I heard nothing. Then, a soft rhythmic rustling sound reached my ears. I listened closely trying to determine what Auntie might be doing to create the steady rustling sound.
I heard the soft cry once more. With my ear against the door, the sound was unmistakably my Auntie's voice, and it sounded distinctly as if she might be in some form of distress.
As quietly as possible, I turned the door handle and cracked my bedroom door open. I cautiously peered out onto the darkened second-floor landing. Just beyond the newel post, I could glimpse part of the living room below. As I opened the door wider, the soft, rhythmic rustling sound grew louder and more distinct. Auntie's voice sounded again, and I could have sworn she sighed or moaned something unintelligible.
I leaned out from the doorway to get a better view of the living room. At first, I could only see Auntie's feet, still in her black high heels. The toes of her shoes were pointed downward, as if she were kneeling on the sofa. As I moved closer, the soft rhythmic sounds became louder, and I noticed her feet shifting slightly, almost in time with the rhythm.
More curious than ever, I hesitantly stepped out of my bedroom, tiptoeing softly to the stairway banister before peeking over. At first, it wasn't immediately clear what was happening below. Auntie was, as I had guessed, kneeling on the sofa. More precisely, she was straddling the arm of the sofa with her legs. As I watched, she arched her back and rocked her hips, forward and back, in a steady rhythm, creating the soft rustling sound that had so piqued my curiosity.
I almost gasped aloud in stunned surprise as comprehension swept over me. Auntie was masturbating by grinding herself against the arm of the sofa.
While I had never in my life witnessed a woman masturbating, the lustful urgency in her pelvic thrusts left absolutely no room for misinterpretation. With the hem of her dress raised provocatively, the full length of her legs was exposed as she straddled the arm of the sofa.
As she slowly writhed against the arm of the sofa, she sighed softly and, as I watched transfixed, she began to move her hands over her body. She cupped each of her breasts and then slid her hands down over her hips and along her thighs. As her hands moved up, along her thighs, she hooked her fingers under the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her hips to reveal she wore a tiny pair of bright red bikini panties.
I couldn't help but stare in complete admiration as she once again began to thrust her hips rhythmically against the arm of the sofa. I felt my cock begin to stir in my briefs, struggling within the tight confines.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from her as she thrust her hips urgently against the arm of the sofa. I had known Auntie all my life but, in all my life, I had never seen her so intimately revealed, and it took my breath away to see the muscles in her shapely thighs and buttocks flexing provocatively with each tilt of her pelvis.
She moaned softly, rocking her head and shoulders from side to side, her shoulder-length hair flipping back and forth over her face as she moved.
With a soft cry, she lowered her upper torso onto the arm of the sofa; her hands gripped the soft chenille fabric so tightly that I could clearly see the whiteness in her knuckles. She began moving her hips very rapidly as more soft moans emanated from her parted lips. She turned her head to the side and laid her cheek against the back of the sofa, her hair falling carelessly over her face.
I reached down and began to stroke the now very urgent bulge in my briefs as I watched Auntie masturbate. Her hips suddenly began moving vigorously and her breathing accelerated dramatically. She reached down and grasped her little bikini panties, yanking them down to completely bare her buttocks, grasping both of her cheeks, gripping the soft flesh tightly and spreading her cheeks wide as she continued to thrust her hips.
She moaned softly as her entire body began to writhe with such a forceful intensity that it astonished me.
"Oh, God!" she gasped aloud, her voice thick and husky with desire as her pelvis moved rapidly. I sensed she was on the brink of orgasm and stroked myself rapidly as well.
Suddenly, her face tightened and her brows arched as if she were in great pain, her cheekbones reddened noticeably, and she took several very shallow breaths in quick succession. Just as suddenly, she ceased all movement and held herself completely still, her eyes tightly closed and her mouth opened wide as if in a silent scream. A low sound emanated from deep in her throat and her body seemed to tremble.
"Yes!" she gasped, "Oh, God, yes!" Her hips moved to the rhythm her body needed as her orgasm began to sweep her away. At the precise moment she surrendered to the pleasure of her orgasm, she opened her eyes, and to my complete astonishment, her eyes met mine.
We locked eyes for a long, poignant moment. She opened her mouth as if to speak but only shook her head silently, as if denying my presence. Her face was a mix of surprise and disbelief. Her eyelids fluttered, and she gasped softly, her mouth widening further. Then, her eyes squeezed shut, and she exhaled sharply, a low whine escaping from deep in her throat.
Her body shuddered violently and, incredibly, her hips began to move once more against the arm of the sofa. She moaned softly, a low keening sound from deep in her throat, and pressed her hips into the arm of the sofa with a slow, graceful rhythm. She sighed softly with each forward thrust of her pelvis and I realized with a start of surprise that she was having an orgasm.
