Auntie Kath

In 1968 we lived in Corby, where my parents owned a fish and chip shop. Back then, at 18, I wasn't a complete novice with girls but I was still a virgin - the Swinging Sixties never reached the wastes of Northamptonshire.

Every year in July the family would make a pilgrimage 'back home' to Wales to see my mum's sister, Auntie Kath, and her family. I'd managed to duck out of it for a few years, but that year my mum guilt-tripped me into it so, sulkily, I slouched into the car, stuck in the back seat between my 14-year old sister Charlene and our 7-year old brother Billy. I was supposedly meant to act as the grown-up, there to stop them squabbling all the way. To be fair Char just buried her face in teen magazines most of the way but I'd never been on a long trip with Billy before and he was an insufferable pain, constantly wriggling about, poking me in the ribs and yammering away. When he started in on "Are we nearly there yet?" after just half an hour I started clipping his ear until mum gave me The Look and a slit throat gesture in the rear-view mirror.

Suffice to say, we emerged from the car in Llewellyn Drive, Tredegar, after several hours all feeling hot, tired, crumpled, irritable and, in my case, sticky from the orange squash I swear Billy the little bastard had managed to deliberately spill over me. Standing at her front door to greet us was Auntie Kath; it had been five years since I saw her but she didn't seem to have changed a bit: 54 years old, at five feet nine just an inch shorter than me and as thin as a rake except for a surprisingly ample bust (dad used to describe her as a broomstick with two balloons tied to it), neatly permed black-grey hair, a rather rodent-like face with small dark eyes and a long pointed nose and, despite the summer heat, dressed in a grey cardigan I think she was probably born in.

She scuttled down the garden path with a big hug for mum, a much briefer and less enthusiastic one for dad, a pat on the head for Billy and pecks on the cheek for me and Char. She looked me up and down appraisingly and chirped "Oh my Kevin, haven't you grown? And such a good-looking lad too - obviously take after your mam. How long is it now?" Being a typical teenager I tried to smother my smirk at the unintended double entendre but mum caught it and gave me another Look.

Auntie bustled us inside and called "Dor, get the kettle on." My cousin Doreen, looking as if she was hiding an over-inflated beach ball under her dress, emerged from the parlour, as Auntie Kath liked to call it, and swayed in the direction of the kitchen. On entering the suffocating atmosphere of the parlour we encountered Uncle Edgar, looking like a skeleton covered in grey crepe paper, swathed in a blanket and with a two-bar electric heater going full blast next to him. He was 12 years older than Auntie but could have been taken for 80 or more due to numerous ailments, some of them related to his 40 years working down and around coal mines.

We made polite conversation for a while, then Auntie cleared her throat significantly. It seemed we had a slight problem with sleeping arrangements. Uncle Edgar had a special bed in the former dining room with various tubes attached to it, Auntie had surrendered her double bedroom to mum and dad, and one of the beds in the twin room had been claimed by Doreen who, six months pregnant, had just left her cheating husband. That left one single divan and a fold-down sofa bed between four of us.

Last time I'd come I'd had to share a single bad with my then-nine-year-old sister, with dad in the same room while mum and Auntie shared the double, Billy was in a cot and Uncle Edgar, before his health so deteriorated, had the sofa. This time, after a bit of discussion Char agreed, churlishly and with several threats to Billy, to share a single with him in the same room as Doreen. That left the sofa bed and, with dad at six-foot-four and 24 stone there was no way he'd fit on it with me, so he got the double bed with mum. Just as it seemed as if I'd be sleeping on the floor Auntie Kath piped up "Kevin could share the sofa bed with me, you wouldn't mind that would you love?"

While Char tried not to piss herself laughing at my red face, dad, mum and I exchanged astonished glances. Seemingly oblivious, Auntie carried on "I'll arrange it so there are sheets between us, and if Kev doesn't have a pair of jim-jams I can loan him a pair of Edgar's." Given that the alternative was a hard floor, and quickly reassuring my aunt that I had brought my own pyjamas, I quickly agreed before mum suggested I sleep in the car or something.

I sat nervously through the evening, casting quick glimpses at Auntie Kath and long scowls at Charlene then, come bedtime, I changed in the bathroom, keeping my underpants on under the pyjamas in case of any unfortunate slips through the open crotch area. I padded barefoot back to the parlour to find Auntie Kath just finishing making up the bed sofa, wearing a calf-length baby blue flannelette nightie. She explained to me that I'd have two sheets and a blanket over me, and I'd lie on an extra sheet covering her and separating us. With that she turned off the light, I got in and prepared for what I expected to be an uncomfortable night.

The room was still warm from the heat of the day and Uncle Edgar's heater, and I was soon stifling. I threw off the blanket but still felt too hot and sticky to sleep. Around 1am I went to the loo and, on returning, peeled off my damp pyjamas and slid back under the sheets.

What happened after that started out as a genuine mishap. It took me a few moments to realise I could feel a different kind of heat - that of my aunt's body, lying inches away with her back to me. I'd accidentally slipped under all the sheets, including the one meant to physically separate us. I started to move out of the bed then a wicked idea entered my randy teenage brain. Breathing deeply to feign sleep, I snuggled close to Auntie, spooning my body up to hers. In seconds I felt her jerk awake, then she hissed my name, trying to wake me.

I gave a particularly loud snort and, after a moment or so, felt Auntie Kath relax. A minute or so later it felt as if she was actually snuggling into me, presumably enjoying the feel of a body next to hers in bed for the first time in years and thinking what harm could it do with her nice, polite nephew. It didn't take long before I developed a stonking great hard-on. With as little movement as I could manage I pushed off my pants and carefully eased my hips forwards until my straining cock was pressed firmly into the cleft of her bum. She gasped, whispered my name again and actually reached back and shook my shoulder. I just carried on sleep-breathing and, giving up, she moved her lower half away from me. I followed her and again pushed into her through her nightgown.

Auntie was now on the very edge of the sofa bed with nowhere to go. Seeming to give up she gave a deep sigh and seemed to be returning to sleep. Barely believing I was getting away with it, I decided to see how much further I could go. With a grown I 'accidentally' flopped my arm over her, letting it come to rest with my hand flattened against one of her boobs. She seemed to go stiff for a moment, but she neither said anything nor tried to wake me. Thinking I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb I started to gently squeeze her tit. Sensing no resistance, and pretty much giving up any pretence of sleep, I rubbed my thumb across an erect nipple.

Auntie Kath started wriggling, and for a moment I thought she was escaping from the bed, then I felt a bare thigh against mine and realised, with a tremor of shock, that she had actually pulled her nightie up to her waist. Still neither of us acknowledging what was happening, I took the plunge, dropped my hand down and slipped it under the hem of the nightie. Auntie Kath's breathing quickened as my hand settled on the flesh of her breast and I continued my nipple massage. Now there was no question that her arse was pushing back against my cock. With my free hand I gently tugged at the elastic of the big knickers she was wearing, but it was an awkward position for me. Moving quickly now, Auntie took over, sliding her pants down and off, placing my stonker in direct contact with the flesh of her bum.

Auntie Kath shuffled onto her belly, detaching my hand from her tit, and in the light of a streetlamp through the curtains I could see she had pulled her knees under her, raising her backside off the sofa, the nightie pooling under her armpits. I'd seen enough porn magazines to know what she was offering and, still not quite believing this wasn't a particularly vivid dream, I knelt behind her with my hands on her hips. She reached back and guided me into position and, for the first time in my life, I thrust my cock into a woman. She hissed back at me "Good and hard love." I slammed into her with all my strength and she pushed back at me, giving a little yelp with each stroke. I lasted less than a minute before I exploded into her but I still kept pushing until she buried her face in her pillow, screamed into it and collapsed under me, like a balloon deflating.

I must have fallen into a deep sleep after that, because the next thing I remember was being woken by an alarm clock to find Auntie Kath and I locked naked in each other's arms, our bodies glued together by sweat, our legs intertwined and her hand resting around my sticky cock. Seeing I was awake she took my face in her hands, kissed me on the lips and whispered "Time to get up lover".

When I rose about a half hour later she and I were still the only ones up. As I wandered into the kitchen in just jeans and T-shirt to make myself a cup of tea Auntie called to me from her pantry: "Come here a moment Kev."

I entered the small side room to be met by her stony face. "Shut the door Kevin, What happened last night was nice...lovely...but it mustn't, can't, ever happen again. I mean it. Do you understand?"

I don't know what made me do it, maybe just teenage bravado, but in response I stepped the two paces towards her, pulled her head to mine and kissed her hard on the mouth. She stiffened in resistance for a moment then muttered "Oh fuck", slipped an arm around my neck and committed to the kiss, her tongue sliding between my lips and her chest pushing into mine.

I felt her other hand alight on the zip of my jeans and...well, to cut a long story short it did happen again, right there in the pantry, up against a set of cupboards. One of the doors was a bit loose and rattled in time to our thrusts. We'd only just finished and tidied ourselves up when Doreen wandered into the kitchen and, through a yawn, complained "What's all the banging about?" This time it was Auntie Kath whose face turned scarlet, and I had to leave the room to avoid sniggering.

Needless to say, neither Auntie Kath nor I got a lot of sleep on the sofa bed that night. We fucked several times and she gave me a gorgeous suck. She had a remarkable and underfed sex drive and I wish I had half the stamina now I possessed back then.

We got one further opportunities to cement our relationship on that trip. My family went on a day trip to a nearby beauty spot and Doreen was at work. We shared the double bed and I got my first ever taste of pussy. I also discovered she had a sensitive bum, both to my dick and my mouth. I was pretty unsure about that at first, but I found it an incredible turn-on as I licked at her, the puckered rosebud of her arse clamping around my tongue. We fell asleep and were only awoken by the slamming of the car doors when the family returned!

After that trip I only saw Auntie Kath once more. Mum and dad had a huge argument with her (not over me thank god) and we never visited as a family again. But in 1970 Uncle Edgar died and I went as the Williams representative to the funeral. For three days Auntie and I had the run of her home and sucked and fucked freely. Even then I still called her Auntie rather than by her first name. After that I returned to my fiancée (a 35-year old barmaid, which scandalised mum and made dad envious) and Auntie sold her house and moved into a retirement home. Since then I've always had a taste for older women (although now I'm nearly 70 there are a lot fewer than there used to be!) and I've been lucky in love over the years; but whenever I need to conjure up a vision to help me self-pleasure it's still those wonderful experiences with Auntie Kath that fuel my fire.