Uncle Guy was a sweet man loved by all, though truth be told I always found him just a touch insincere and superficial. When he died though there was a huge turnout for his funeral in beautiful Cork where my mother's family are from. All the locals paid their respects and the family too were there in force, my cousins alone must have numbered 40. The last years of his life had been difficult for him, bad lungs giving way to cancer and so I suppose there was some relief his suffering was at an end. I'd travelled over from London to join with my sister and mother who'd been there for a few days already in the big rambling farmhouse that was the family home.
His wife, my aunt Janet, was not suited to the life of a nurse and so as ever there was a fair bit of bitching behind her back about the lack of support she'd given him, forever jetting off to sunnier climes as was her wont. Some of us further knew of an affair she'd been conducting all the while so relations were sometimes tense within the family. My mother in particular was unforgiving of her sister-in-law's betrayal of her brother. Maybe there was a touch of guilt then in Janet's genuine grief and the distress she seemed to be in, leaning heavily on her children throughout the day's events. It has to be said she was also looking good in black, a veil only adding to her allure. In truth maybe it was as much my memory of her as her good looks were fading rather fast at this stage in her 70s. I always had rather liked Janet and had admired her many talents, extremely bright she rode to hounds fearlessly had done enormous amounts of charity work, travelling all around the world and had even published successful romance novels. I suspect she felt constricted by the lesser light that was Guy. I think she sensed this understanding and sympathy in me and am pretty sure she can't have failed to notice my appreciation of her beauty through the years either as I could never tear my eyes off her. When half the family shunned her we often found ourselves giggling together in a corner not caring a jot. For decades now a touch of her hand was enough to make me weak at the knees and happily she was a tactile woman. The sensation was as strong as ever when we first hugged and I kissed her soft cheeks - with her I would never air kiss. Perhaps now there was an added fragility as it was my turn to be leant on. Saying how glad she was to see me and how happy she was that I was there, she would not let go of my hand even as she spoke to others. Squeezing each other's hands I would often take both her hands in mine or put my arm around her shoulders. I didn't care that it probably looked odd, she needed me. The wake was stretching on and she was clearly tired and certainly not wanting to tuck in to the whiskey that by now was flowing freely. Her 4 children were doing their duty as they saw it mingling and talking to everyone that had made the effort to come.
"Jack please get me out of here!" She whispered to me, her lips brushing my ear.
I didn't need asking twice as I escorted my aunt through the throng into the kitchen where she'd got some local girls in to do the catering. From there I could discreetly take he up the back stairs to her room where she could rest. She sat down on the bed and having not let go of my hand I sat down with her. Now she began to let it all out sobbing on my shoulder as I held her tight. She was bemoaning what a terrible wife she'd been and so trying to argue with her I was saying how lucky Guy had been to have her. How beautiful she was, how clever, how full of life. She wasn't having any of it but I could sing her praises all day long so carried on in that vein. Even with the affair that she admitted to she still stuck by my uncle and had cared for him in her own way. Divorce was never an option for her. Essentially I was arguing that she was an incredibly sexy saint who was far too good for my uncle who couldn't appreciate her like she deserved. I had her face in my hands, wiping away her tears. Likewise she held my face in her hands, thanking me for my kindness. We kissed. It was on the lips but it wasn't yet sensual, it was just an emotional response that came naturally to us both. Having had that first oh so natural kiss though we were now looking deeply into one another's eyes, our faces still in each other's hands. Our minds racing. Slowly we kissed again. Still super gently. I stroked her still luscious black hair as our kiss lingered and was now something more, something very different. Even as her tears still flowed so our kiss became sensual and our bodies came closer together. Our eyes were locked together in perfect communication. As we smiled at how natural this felt to each of us. Never mind that I was her 45yr old nephew and she was well into her 70s and we were at her husband's funeral.
"Oh Jack!" she breathed before kissing me again that little bit more urgently.
I was still comforting her but now in a way that not every one would understand. To us though we were just in the moment as we lay back on the bed now in one another's arms. No hurry, we just kissed and held one another tight. My hands wondered freely over her body. Her body that I'd long dreamed of. Now I was on top of her our arms spread wide and my legs either side of hers. She could feel my erection pressed up against her but I didn't go any further. We rolled as our kissing became more and more passionate, her previously immaculately coiffed hair coming loose in a way that set my heart racing. Now she was straddling me before she finally sat up to take a breath. We'd reached a point where decisions had to be made and since I was reluctant to press home any unnatural advantage I may have had with her very particular situation, it came down to her. She leant down to kiss me once more and with her hand on my chest said she needed to sleep now. Kissing me again she also said that she needed that and she that needs me still if I could stay on a while?
"Of course!" I said as kneeling next to her I lovingly kissed her good night like I'd never kissed an aunt before.
My fingers made my way up her stockinged thighs since her skirt had ridden right up and with touching her flesh I dragged myself away - leaning down with one last stroke of her hair and one last kiss.
I went back down to the wake where things were getting rowdy; one or two of my cousins were singing and family and friends were busy setting the world to rights. I was in a daze. Janet's eldest daughter Mary thanked me for looking after her and I told her that she'd gone to bed - without elaborating further! Naturally my mother told me how she thought Janet had been milking it and that I was falling for it as usual. I went to bed early, wanting to be alone with my thoughts, not to mention gain some relief...
After a somewhat restless night I was down relatively early to breakfast. Most of the family were still abed, no doubt hungover but I was delighted to see Janet down, again looking smoking hot in black. Mary and and her boy Nigel were the only other ones up. A peck on the cheek from my aunt and a quick hold of my hand were enough to electrify me once again as I settled down next to her. She also gave my thigh a squeeze under the table as her leg nestled up to mine. Having been in what looked like quite an intense conversation with Mary and Nigel she promptly switched her entire attention to me, once more entreating me to stay longer. I'd made no particular plans so was very happy to agree. Nigel seemed annoyed but Janet was elated, kissing me on the lips. Soon everyone else drifted down packed and ready to go including my mother and sister who were rather surprised to hear that I was staying on. After lunch it was just Janet her 3 daughters, Nigel and me. I hung back a little as the children fussed over their mother and Nigel tried to get down to some family business. Every time though Janet would draw me in asking what I thought and often giving me the casting vote in things. Nigel had arranged for the solicitor to come the next day but Janet said no, instead she wanted me to take her sailing. What could anyone say? It was settled.
