It was Auntie Katie who really taught me about other women, or rather about just how much pleasure two women can share. Oh I had had a crush on another girl before, felt the joy of her lips pressed to mine as our tongues fenced, sampled the pleasures of her fingers exploring between my thighs and the intense delights of her tongue on my clit. Those, however, had been flippant dalliances, whereas Auntie Katie took her sexual pleasures very seriously. First she's not really my aunt but she's been my Mum's best friend since forever, so I was pretty startled when she seduced me: I mean she's so old. Sorry, so much older than I am, like as old as my Mum! Then there's the obvious issue, I mean did she and Mum ever... Do she and Mum still! Auntie Katie is, always was and always will be strictly lezzie and she and Mum were really close at Uni: loads of stuff I really shouldn't think about, though that doesn't stop me from wondering, about her and my Mum and...
Auntie Katie's skinny, wiry and makes her living giving health and fitness classes at the local spa so she's fit as hell and strong as an ox. She's got even smaller tits than me and mine are tiny but she has broad hips and thighs like tree trunks. She's not pretty, she has crows feet, her nose is too big and her jaw too prominent and if it weren't for a bottle in the bathroom cabinet she'd be streaked with grey. Despite these she's still handsome in a sly, stern yet sexy kind of a way, I mean for someone her age she's really not that bad looking and not an ounce of fat anywhere; because of the spa she really looks after herself. From the neck down she shaves everything, some of the leotards she wears are real skimpy and some of the stuff she demonstrates in her more advanced yoga classes, well her students get to check out every last little bit of her and pubes poking out from under the seams would not be a good look. How do I know all this? Because most days she wanders around her little cottage stark naked until it's time to don her leotard and set off for work.
Auntie Katie's aura had struck me before I went to stay with her, she always came across as super confident, totally self assured, stern, all seeing, completely in control, forceful and maybe even a little cruel: trust me, you should see her sneer. Even so I adored her, you always knew where you were with Auntie Katie, her praise was scant but when it happened you knew it was genuine, that you really had achieved something and then she made you realise you too could be really special.
How to explain Auntie Katie? Let me give you an example. If you had fantasies about being compelled to have sex, not that I ever I do - well not that often - but if I did. She would be the one watching closely, embarrassing me, making me shudder and squirm. So, when the tall, dark man in his sharp grey woollen suit, crisp white linen shirt, neatly knotted red silk tie and black shiny leather shoes had finished stripping me and told me to bend over as he unzipped his fly, when I just knew he was about to ravish me from behind, taking me like the animal he'd transformed me into; she was the shadow in the background who ordered, "and put your hands behind you and spread your cheeks wide so we can see just how wet you really are." So, on top of everything else, I was also going to have to exhibit my little pink puckered anus to him and to her too and I knew she was going to be the one to take a good long look, maybe even tut or tusk at me. Then, when he'd shafted me vigorously, grunted with satisfaction as he pumped his thick sticky come deep inside of me and stood back to watch if his seed was going to ooze out and dribble down my leg; she was the one who would order me to kneel and suck his cock clean of all the mess that I had just created. She was the one who would take delightfully degrading and introduce sticky, yucky and icky into the mix. Auntie Katie throws off an aura of gentle yet persistent smouldering perversion.
Anyway, this is supposed to be a narrative so let's go back to a beginning. That Summer a woman who worked in the juice bar at the spa was going to take maternity leave and Mum suggested I offer to fill in for her over the long Uni vacation. If I stayed with Auntie Katie she'd just charge me food and a token so I could get on with some serious saving. Sounded like an excellent plan to me and the work was easy, even if the clients did include a lot of arrogant arseholes and pretentious prats who really fancied themselves. There were no tips, no one carried cash, but the pay at the spa took that into account so that was OK. I mostly worked both afternoons and evenings too, to pile those savings up; Aunty Katie gave classes on and off throughout the day so we didn't often see that much of one another.
One morning I had a call from Auntie Katie, turned out some Muppet in admin had double booked so would I kindly speed in and demonstrate for Ruth as she gave her class. I knew it was urgent because auntie told me to take her car, which normally sat on the drive, whilst usually we both cycled everywhere. I was to grab a work leotard from her closet and report to Ruth's class, pronto. That would have been fine except I was now in a rush and her stupid work leotards weren't in her stupid closet. The only leotards in her drawers were fancy ones. As I hastily rooted through her vibrant gym wear, her fluorescent dance wear and her rather grey underwear, to my amazement, I came across a wand vibrator. Right then I had to hurry but a real live wand was something I was definitely going back to investigate. I mean I'd used vibrators, I had one hidden in my case amongst my socks but, whilst I'd heard about how awesome a wand was, I'd never actually had the opportunity to try one out. But not right then, right then I had to find a work leotard: kerplunk, the penny dropped, Auntie Katie had meant the closet in the spare bedroom, I was not even supposed to be in her room let alone rooting through all her stuff like that.
Opportunity would have been a fine thing. First, it was the weekend and we did see a little more of one another so no possibility of wand time then. After that Auntie Katie worked some really funny shifts so it was a whole five days before I was certain she would be out for long enough for me to dare to borrow her wand and test drive it. Five days of imagining just how wonderful that wand would feel as it projected me - no blasted me - head long through orgasm after orgasm. Five days of increasingly stiff nipples, damp panties, hugging myself and secret thigh squeezing. So when my chance came I became so excited that I was actually dripping and my nipples were tight, crimson and achingly firm. Even so I was careful not to leave any little tell tale signs of my crime, to such an extent that I even photographed auntie's drawer so I could be sure of getting everything back exactly the way I found it. I mean. Well I didn't dare ask and... Well come on! It's not something you'd normally share. Well she might... But then again, like me, you really might be too embarrassed to... So, anyway, sharing her wand was going to stay my guilty secret.
By the time I was back in my own room I was literally shaking; partly with guilt, partly with anticipation but mostly due to some very wet thighs. My nipples were little red rocks, my clit was on fire, my furry muff was throbbing and melting and my knees were jelly. I plugged it in and the roar made me jump out of my skin, it was so loud I almost dropped the thing. When you are trying to be secretive wands are just so noisy. There again, with that roar, this was going to be super intense. I took deep breaths and calmed myself, I spread my lips with one hand and shoved the head up against my clit with the other; bang! I came practically instantly, I fell over but despite that I kept the roaring fiend jammed tightly between my legs pressed firmly over my clit. It was wonderful, fabulous, marvellous, amazing, the very best ever, beyond words; beyond imagining. I came again and again, rolling about, stretching and flexing, arching my back, moaning and wailing until, without warning, my clit flipped and the intensity was suddenly unbearable. It sort of hurt but not pain-hurt, the sensation was just so impossibly all concentrated in one spot, it made my legs quiver and it was kind of making me desperate to pee as well so I snatched the damned thing away. Besides I was exhausted, I lay on the carpet half panting, half sobbing, utterly blissed out and, for once, totally satiated. That was so good, so very excellent, the biggest and best ever and it was so going to happen again; and it was so going to happen again very soon. So good!
As I carefully restored the wand to its hiding place I mulled over the experience. Next time I'd have to be more organised. First, the wand needed an extension cord, the cable was way too short. Secondly, I needed to be on my bed, or maybe sitting in a chair... Yes sitting in a narrow arm chair. Sitting in a narrow arm chair with my legs draped over the arms so I was spread wide. Sitting in that narrow arm chair which my aunt had in the spare bedroom, its low arms were perfectly spaced for me to hook my legs over them. Thirdly, I should try it on my nipples first, I had intended doing that but what with all my nervous excitement and then the shock of discovering how loud the damn thing was, I had completely forgotten about titivating my little titties.
