In Town for a Funeral

It was hot and I couldn't sleep. When I crawled under the sheet on the couch an hour earlier, I had stripped down to nothing but my boxers. But now I couldn't find a comfortable position. I lay on my back, the sheet pulled down to my waist with one leg bent at the knee protruding from the sheet. I was nearly naked, but I was still uncomfortably warm.

It was about the minimum amount of my body I could cover with the sheet and still be decent. Not that being decent mattered all that much. I was the only person sleeping in the living room of the big old Charleston antebellum mansion. Everyone else in the family had been assigned a bedroom, or at least a share of a bedroom. Actually, I was probably better off than the others. They may have had a bed, but it was likely ten degrees hotter upstairs.

It was late July of 2010 and the whole extended family was in town because my great grandmother, who owned this old Georgian pile, had recently passed away at the age of 102. I had only met the old gal once, and that was when I was less than a year old, so I had to take peoples' word about her.

I was here principally because my mother had insisted that we attend the funeral. When I objected to joining her on the trip, my mother had reminded me, "Andrew, your great grandmother was very rich, and the trustees of her estate are going to have a lot of discretion in deciding how to sprinkle the money around the family. It's important for us to show up and make a good impression." My mother and I lived in California, while most of the rest of the family still lived in South Carolina. I guess we were what you call "estranged" from our family. But now there was money at stake—or so my mother thought.

As I lay there battling the demons of humid heat and insomnia, my mind did just what the mind of any twenty-year-old male would do in such circumstances. It turned to sex.

Meeting Flo

I had met my cousin Flo that afternoon for the first time. First cousin, second cousin, third cousin twice removed? I didn't have a clue. What I was sure of though was that she was drop dead gorgeous. Flo was probably ten years older than me. With the three-inch heels she wore she nearly matched my six-foot height. Her face had

classic beauty—high cheekbones, a light, smooth complexion, a pair of big, round brown eyes, and small pouty lips. You could just lose yourself in those eyes. She had long, thick, strawberry blonde hair that hung with a soft curl to the top of her breasts.

And her breasts. Oh such breasts! They were full and round, covering much of her chest. It was all I could do to pull my eyes away from those gorgeous breasts and look her in the eye as she shook hands with me. It's one of the hardest things men have to do sometimes—looking a beautiful woman in the eye when your every fiber wants to stare at her tits.

Below those gorgeous breasts her body tapered to a narrow waist perched atop full hips. She wore a floor-length skirt that covered her long legs. It draped so that you didn't have to use your imagination to see the shape of the globes of her ass. I couldn't see her legs, of course, but my imagination filled them in as long and tapered.

When she shook my hand, hers was warm and soft, and as she withdrew it, her fingers lingered ever so lightly on my palm, the faintest caress, or so I thought. Then she was gone, dragged off to meet other shirttail relatives she probably didn't know.

At dinner she and I had been seated at opposite ends of a large table, so conversation was out of the question, but I was sure at one point in the evening that we made eye contact, and she smiled this very soft and still very warm smile that said . . . Well, I don't know what it said, but in my twenty-year-old mind I was sure it was good.

As I lay there in the heat, my raunchy imagination conjured up Flo standing before me slowly stripping her clothes off as I sat before her in an overstuffed chair.

In my fantasy I was fully dressed including coat and tie. Flo wore the same long dress I had seen her in when we had met and a sheer white blouse that buttoned nearly to the bottom of her throat. I could easily see the white lace bra that encased her beautiful breasts through the diaphanous blouse. Her long hair was coiled atop her head, a change from our actual meeting.

As I watched, she released her hair and shook it out so that it fell on her shoulders and almost down to her breasts. She pushed her hair out of her face and back over her shoulders. Then looking at me with a soft smile she released a button and then a second button on the blouse, disclosing just the barest hint of cleavage. Then another button. Now I could see the top of her lacy white bra and the swell of her breasts. My cock began to stir beneath the lightweight, gray wool slacks I wore.

Pushing an errant lock of her blonde hair out of her face, she cocked her head and smiled again as she toyed with the next button on her blouse as though asking, "Shall I?"

I nodded my head and licked my lips in response. As she released the button, Flo leaned forward so I could see most of her breasts, albeit still encased in the lacy white bra. Her large areolas and prominent nipples showed through the thin material of the brassiere.

She released the last button holding the blouse together and pushed it to the sides of her breasts. Then she used her fingertips to pinch each nipple through the thin material of the bra. There was the sound of an erotic gasp, and she threw her head back and around, her long hair flying as she reacted.

As I spun out this fantasy, I could feel my cock growing and seeking to escape from the prison of my boxers. I reached beneath the sheet and stroked it lightly through the fabric. It jumped in response, rapidly approaching full erection. No, I thought. I can't masturbate here. What if someone comes down the stairs and catches me? I pulled my hand away, unable to resist a parting soft stroke of the underside of the head, which had somehow escaped from the confines of my boxers. My cock jumped in response, but my fear pulled my hand fully away. Okay, okay. I wasn't going to stroke myself to a climax, but that sure as hell wasn't going to stop me from pursuing my fantasy of watching cousin Flo strip for my benefit.

Returning to my fantasy, I watched Flo, standing tall and straight, turn away from me. As she turned her hands that had been tormenting her nipples dropped to her sides. Then she reached back and caressed her ass through the thin, soft material of the floor-length skirt she had worn earlier in the day—the one that perfectly draped the firm globes of her ass. I had noticed earlier that Flo wasn't one of these women with boyish hips. She had a full round ass; not fat and flabby mind you. Just something you could get a firm grip on when you needed it. As she fondled herself, she leaned forward pushing her ass out towards me. So fucking erotic!

But it was just for the moment. She straightened up and used her hands to pull the tails of her blouse from the skirt. Flo arched her back as she shucked the blouse off her shoulders and arms and let it fall to the floor, exposing the skin of her exquisitely toned and tanned back and broad shoulders. Then, still facing away from me, she raised both hands to the catch on her bra. She toyed with it for a moment, as if undecided. Then she looked back over her shoulder at me with a smile and raised eyebrows, as if to ask, "Shall I?"

When I nodded my assent, she released the catch, but instead of letting her bra fall immediately, she reached around with her hands and cupped her tits and the bra cups encasing them. The straps fell off her shoulders catching on her elbows. She turned at the waist toward me so that I could see a hand holding one side of the bra in place and cupping the breast it held. There was a mischievous trace of a smile as Flo dropped her hand and let the bra cup fall away on the side turned toward me. I could see the side profile of her breast with her engorged nipple standing stiffly away from the areola. I so wanted to suck on it and tease it with my tongue.

My now fully erect cock jumped of its own volition at the details of my fantasy, and notwithstanding my best intentions my hand drifted down below my waist and began to slowly stroke the head of my engorged cock. A drop of precum emerged from my prick and I swirled it around the end of my hard-on. The sheet had dropped off my knee to the side so that I was now lying naked on the couch but for the boxers from which my cock protruded. As I returned to the details of my fantasy, I still didn't want to let myself cum, but I just didn't have the will power to keep my hand from slowly stroking my cock.

Flo turned away from me again and once more dropped both hands to her sides, letting her bra fall to the floor. Now she was naked from the waist up. Her hands reached behind her to briefly fondle the globes of her ass again and then returned to her tits. I couldn't see exactly what she was doing because she still had her back to me. But based on the movements of her elbows, I was sure she was massaging her breasts and occasionally pinching her nipples. I could tell when she twisted her nipples because she would shake her head, her long hair flying to the side and back as she let out a quiet gasp.

By now I had pushed my boxers off and let my fully erect cock completely escape to the tender mercies of my right hand. I was still entertaining the fiction that I wasn't going to masturbate in my grandmother's living room, not that anyone watching me would have believed that.

After a few minutes of masturbating her tits, my fantasy Flo upped the ante. She reached back with both hands and released a catch at the back of her skirt and a zipper below it. She pulled her hands away and shook her hips and her head, her long hair flying from side to side. The skirt fell abruptly to the floor, revealing a pair of long, sexy legs that more than matched my imagination of earlier in the day. She stepped carefully out of the pool of cloth her skirt had become, hooked it with the toe of one of her tall, spiky pumps, and flicked it towards the rest of her discarded clothes. Finally she turned towards me, now wearing nothing other than a black thong, her tall heels, and a smile.

My fantasy was stunning and my cock was an iron bar. I had given up the pretense that I wasn't going to cum. But I wanted to take my time about it and continue to spin out my fantasy. I slowly stroked my cock, using the ample precum as a lube each time I slid my hand up and over the head.

In my fantasy Flo stood before me, her legs spread apart and her hands on her hips. She was wearing only her spiky heels and a simple black thong barely covering her cleanly-shaven sex. I turned now to my own role in the fantasy. Up until now I had imagined myself sitting in an armchair, fully dressed with my legs crossed, passively watching Flo strip before me. As I watched her hook a finger of each hand into the straps of her thong, I uncrossed my legs and reached down with one hand to softly stroke my rigid prick through the fabric of my clothes. I realized that a few drops of precum had soaked through the lightweight material of my slacks leaving a small dark stain in the fabric.

That seemed to get Flo's attention. She pulled one hand away from her thong and raised her forefinger to her lips and then sucked it as she cocked her head to one side, staring at the lump I was stroking in my trousers and the obvious stain at its head. I moved to release my belt. Seeing my movement, she oh-so-slowly withdrew her finger from her mouth, savoring it as though it were a cock being withdrawn. Her fingers returned to the strap on her thong and she stood twisting her hips as her fingers pulled the thong down and away from her hips. Watching her was erotic as hell.

By now, in my fantasy, I had my cock fully withdrawn from my clothing and I was stroking it as I watched Flo's thong fall to her knees and then to the floor. She hooked it with the toe of one shoe and kicked it away. Now she stood before me, her legs spread apart so I could see the gleam on her wet pussy lips. One hand rested on a hip, and the other had returned a forefinger to her mouth. She sucked the finger seductively as she watched me stroke the rigid cock protruding from my pants.

Then reality intervened. I heard a door creak upstairs, and within moments I sensed that someone was walking down the broad staircase to the living room. My fantasy Flo disappeared, and my fantasy and my real masturbation came to an abrupt halt. I reached down and pulled the sheet back up so it was now covering all of my body, and I retrieved my boxers from the floor and tucked them between my hip and the couch. No time to put them back on now. I could feel my erection fading like a rapidly deflating balloon.

Who was coming down the stairs? Had I been seen? No, it was too dark for anyone to see me. I was still scared. All sorts of terrible things could happen to me if I was caught masturbating by one of my conservative relatives. I can tell you, there was no thrill of the exhibitionist in this—just fear of getting caught.

Now I could hear someone moving across the room. There was a soft thump followed by a woman's voice exclaiming, "Shit!" Then there was silence for a moment. Someone had painfully kicked something unseen and now she had stopped moving completely for fear of doing it again.

Then there was a light, like the light provided by a cell phone in flashlight mode. The light was shining away from me so I couldn't see who was holding it. She moved on through the living room and disappeared into the kitchen on the far side, apparently unaware of my presence.

A light came on in the kitchen and I heard the telltale sounds of someone mixing herself a drink. Ice clattered into a glass followed by the sound of a cork cap being pulled from a liquor bottle. Perhaps my Great Grandmother's favored brand of gin? Then the opening fizz of a bottle of carbonated mixer. Tonic perhaps? Hmmm. Gin and tonic at 2:00 a.m. Apparently I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. I wished I had thought of having a gin and tonic—my Great Grandmother's drink of choice, so I had been told.

The light in the kitchen dimmed a bit, as though my visitor had left a bank of lights on but turned down a rheostat. She wanted to give herself enough light to get back across the living room. Now I saw her come walking more confidently out of the kitchen, backlit by the light left on in the kitchen.

Who was it? A woman, with long hair that hung down around her shoulders. She wore a short white nightgown that stopped well above her knees. It must have been very thin material, because even the limited light from the kitchen shown through, silhouetting her body beneath it—long trim legs, broad, but not excessive hips, a narrow waist, and broad shoulders. I remained frozen beneath my sheet, not wanting to disclose my presence. By this time my dick, now safely hidden beneath the sheet, had shrunken to a harmless shadow of its formerly rampant self, but my boxers remained tucked between my hip and the couch. I could feel a pool of pre-cum forced out by the retraction of my hard-on accumulating on my stomach and groin.

The woman walked carefully across the living room, retracing her path of a few minutes earlier. I held rigidly still, not wanting to betray my presence. When she was only a few feet from me, she stopped. She looked around, still apparently not seeing me. She took a sip of her gin and tonic, standing as though considering a decision. Whoever she was, she had great legs.

After another sip of the drink, she turned away from me and walked a couple of steps to an armchair facing me. She set the drink on the table next to the armchair as she sat down in the chair. Now she was sitting maybe ten feet away, facing me directly. There was enough light coming from the kitchen so that I could see her cross her long slender legs.

I was still petrified that I would be discovered sleeping naked on the couch, so I retained my frozen position.

She reached over to the table, picked up her drink and took another sip. When she put it down she picked up another object and set it in her lap. Suddenly there was light coming from her lap that illuminated her face and chest. An e-reader! She was going to sit in the armchair reading something while she consumed her gin. Now I really was trapped! The light spread faintly throughout the room and I was confident that if she looked carefully, she could see my reclining form on the couch.

But wait! The person illuminated by the light of the e-reader wasn't simply some random member of my extended family. It was Flo. The light illuminated her long, strawberry blonde hair, her beautiful eyes, and most important of all, her gorgeous tits, barely concealed by the thin nightgown and now unconstrained by any form of bra.

My god, she was even more beautiful than she had been earlier in the day. I could see right through the thin fabric of her nightgown to her dark areolas and nipples. I remained frozen under my sheet, but unlike earlier in the day, I felt free to stare at Flo's beautiful tits. I lay petrified for at least five minutes watching Flo read and staring at her tits, so poorly concealed beneath the nightgown.

Even though I remained terrified of being caught, I could feel my prick slowly returning to life. Not fully erect, mind you, but more like a soft log lying on my stomach. I wanted to stroke it, but I was still afraid of being caught.

Then I noticed something. She had uncrossed and re-crossed her long legs several times over a five-minute period. Each time the hem of her nightgown crept higher. By now the nightgown appeared to be nearly up to her hips. The e-reader was not casting light in that direction, so I was unable to see if her sex was exposed as she tossed her legs around. I was sure it was, but oh for just a bit more light from the kitchen!

As I watched Flo read, my cock slowly recovered until it was as erect as it had been during my earlier fantasizing about her. It was raising a tent in the sheet that so poorly covered me.

Fortunately Flo seemed oblivious to me—focused intently on her e-reader. She reached over, picked up her glass and took another sip. The gin was half gone now. She set the glass back on the table. Instead of returning to her lap, the hand strayed to her thinly covered breast. She dragged the back of her hand softly across an erect nipple.

The hand returned to her lap, but it was obvious she had other plans for it. Flo picked her head up and looked carefully around the room as if to convince herself she was alone. Did she see me? Apparently not. She returned her eyes to her e-reader and squirmed her hips in the chair. Now she put both feet on the floor, her knees comfortably apart. The nightgown remained bunched at her hips. After taking another cautious look around the room she slowly raised her hand again. This time it did not go to the glass. It went to her breasts. She cupped a breast and began to slowly massage it through her nightgown while her eyes went back to her reading material.

What the fuck? Flo was masturbating her tits, I thought. I wonder what she is reading? Porn? Fuck! How hot is this? My cock was like an iron bar now. Oh, how I wanted to reach down and stroke it. How could she not see it holding the sheet up like the center pole in a circus tent?

Now the e-reader was lying in her lap and both of Flo's hands were massaging her tits. Occasionally she had to put a hand down to turn a page on the e-reader. When she did I could see the protruding nipple of her breast pushing her nightgown up in a little tent, a miniature version of what my cock was doing, except her nipples pretty much held still. My cock was regularly twitching on its own, which made the sheet jump. To make matters worse, I could feel the sheet slowly sliding towards the floor. It tugged a bit further every time my cock twitched. If this kept up I would soon be lying naked on the couch with a huge erection standing straight out from my balls. How could she not see me?