My mother's youngest sister Rema, was coming home for a three week holiday after spending ten years living abroad. I was very excited – we had always been close, she was only seven years older and had always been like a big sister to me. The memory of the hug she gave me at the airport the night she departed had remained fresh in my head all that time. She had hugged me tight for several seconds, holding her firm yet soft young body so close to my developing wiry frame that my thighs fitted between hers, enabling me to feel her lady bump pressing against my upper thigh and also her round B cup breasts pressing into my chest.
Back then, the now popular, 'decent' chest to chest with ass pushed out and away, kind of hug, followed by a mwah, mwah, was not yet in vogue. In those days people hugged like they meant it and to hell with the ensuing close contact. In later days I'd often wondered if that close hug, with her privates unmindful of the pressure against me, had been a deliberate parting gift. I held on to that possibility with the hope it was some kind of promise of better things to come, sometime in the future.
At that time she was twenty-two and I'd been crushing on her boyishly, for years. With the warm, close, parting embrace refusing to leave my memory, the boyish crush grew, along with me, and soon she was my biggest and most constant fantasy. I lived for the times when she would call home and I'd hear the soft, joyful voice on the phone. The fantasy soon became actively sexual and over the years I'd jerked off on countless occasions to a mental picture and sometimes, the latest photograph of her. I made up all kinds of scenarios in my head that led to us having sex.
Now a twenty-five year old, five foot ten, slim but muscular, young man – laughing at myself for feeling excited and thinking foolishly that Rema had been sharing similar thoughts about me over the years – I sat with family members in a viewing area overlooking the runway.
When she stepped off the plane and began making her way across the tarmac pulling her red carry-on bag on wheels behind her, I immediately recognized the beautiful, shapely, light skinned, Dougla (half black, half East Indian) woman gracefully stepping closer into view, her unmistakable, though now, slightly more fleshy, five foot eight body, hugged by a close fitting, knee length, tube-like blue dress that had no sleeves or shoulder straps, starting just across the beginning rise of what looked like firm, C-cup breasts. With her shoulder length, wavy, black hair blowing wildly in the wind sweeping over the tarmac, she raised one shapely arm and waved in our direction, knowing that we would be there, eyes fastened on her. She moved the same hand to delicately flip the errant hair.
Her long stay away from the tropics had lightened her complexion even more, and she now looked like a white woman with distant black blood. I imagined pounding between those shapely pale thighs and watching them redden. My cock instantly responded to the sight and thought, and grew increasingly frisky when we came down to the arrivals area and I waited to see her exit immigration, my mind off on a fantasy flight.
Of the six person group come to welcome Rema home, I was the last one she hugged, and in my head I wondered if she had saved the best for last, for she seemed to hug me in a tighter embrace and for a longer time than she'd done any of the others. Her softness and the close contact, along with her heady perfume caused my already puffed up member to lurch against her soft lower belly, and I thought, the only way she could have missed the demanding hardness was if she was in some kind of daze from the excitement of being at home after the long absence. In the hired minivan that took us home, I was disappointed that she was not sitting next to me. I would have loved to have that sexy, sweet smelling body next to mine – touching.
The day following her return an old boyfriend came by in the evening to pick her up. She left with him but returned in a taxi less than two hours later and it was obvious that the reunion didn't go well. I didn't gather much detail from Rema and my mother's whispers, but I did hear Rema say in an annoyed voice.
"What the hell kind of woman does he think I am ... and it's not like we'd ever been intimate before I left ... him talking about being in a hurry to make up for lost time ... can you believe that?" she exclaimed, and then they both started laughing.
The next day, a Saturday afternoon, she asked me to accompany her over to the next village to search for an old school friend she'd been told lived there. She opted to take the twenty or twenty-five minute stroll through the vaguely remembered streets, instead of calling a taxi, saying she wanted to enjoy as much of the natural feel of home as she could, for the three weeks she'd be here. All along the way she attracted admiring male glances, whistles and whispered words of flattery that she paid no heed to, keeping a pleasant but uninviting face straight ahead. I was proud that she was by my side, but a little annoyed at the guys for seemingly not thinking that she could be my lady, or maybe thinking that, but never the less, infatuated enough to disrespect me by making passes at her in my presence.
She was sexily dressed in an off the shoulder gypsy style, white, cotton blouse, ruffled across her obviously bra-less bosom and stopping short just above her sunken navel. Below the blouse was a white and gold, above the knees skirt that hugged her plump ass and full hips but billowed out from thereon. She had to be constantly holding it down against the heavy breeze, cocking her head to the side and laughing sweetly into my face every time she came near to being indecently exposed.
"Gotta be careful, I don't even have on tights under this, only panties," she said laughingly, after a particularly heavy wind had her struggling to keep the skirt down.
Those words danced around in my head and travelled all over my already excited body, causing my crotch to puff up as I tried to imagine what kind of panties were under there.
"Hope they're not G-string – just in case," I said teasingly, but really only wanting to hear what was under there.
"Nah, but not very far from that either ... and sheer," she said, chuckling and seemingly tickled by the thought.
We spent two hours at the friend's home, chatting and sipping Bailey's liqueur, which was all the young woman had. We left just before the time that I knew it would begin to get dark, because we noticed that a downpour of rain was threatening. We had been walking only about three minutes when it suddenly started to drizzle lightly. A minute later it quickly became more consistent and we quickened our steps. I knew that the neighborhood had no shops that we could run into for shelter, but I knew of a short cut across a little play field that would take us quickly into our neighborhood. As the drizzle became heavier and now with coarser drops I led her into the field and we trotted across it, she holding her dress and laughing.
We soon exited onto a houseless, narrow, access dirt street. I took her hand and led her along that until we came to an alleyway through which we hurried. This led us directly into our neighborhood onto a sparsely housed, but proper street. It was now raining, this was no longer a drizzle. Although home was just about a five minute, brisk walk away, I knew we could not reach there without becoming thoroughly drenched – a flash of lightning and heavy thunder confirmed that. Two house lots away was an old, abandoned government office. I threw my arm around her and we made it to the open gate just as a heavy downpour struck. I knew that the building often housed derelicts and other unsavory characters, so I led her into the little, door-less guard hut near the gate. In any case the building was about fifty yards deep into the compound, it didn't make sense heading there.
We both breathed a heavy sigh of relief and laughed as we settled on the musky-smelling wooden floor. Our relief was short lived because the roof of the hut was leaking in places, especially in the corner into which Rema had stepped. There was an old desk between us and the tight but dry corner I was huddled in. In front of us, a couple of feet away, water simply poured through large gaps in the zinc roof. I told Rema to come around into my corner. She walked around the desk, briefly attracting rain drops to her body, and joined me. She stood in front of me, her fluffy ass barely touching my jeans front.
Water was bouncing off the floor onto her sandaled feet and I told her to slip behind me and let me take the wet. But she pointed out that the water was hitting bare legs and barely covered feet, but if I got in front it would soak my jeans legs and sneakers which would be very uncomfortable. She also added that she liked the feel of the water hitting her feet, as it was something she hadn't experienced in a while. A sudden heavy wind lashed rain into the hut and Rema stepped back, her body pressing into mine, her fluffy ass plumb on my half erect dick. I used the opportunity to raise my hands onto her upper arms close to her shoulders. The rain was still blowing in so she remained huddled against me and my cock excited by the sudden, unexpected treat, rose to greet it. There was nothing I could do to hold it back.
"You alright?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied, chuckling.
As a way of small talk we exchanged a few comments about the rain and the hut and then suddenly lapsed into silence, my cock lurching shamelessly against her plump derriere. The wind eased up, stopping the sprinkles from blowing in, but she remained pressed against me, sharing the growing silence. Another heavy wind and sprinkles sent her pressing harder against me. As her body sunk into mine I used the opportunity to drop my hands from her shoulders to her waist, my fingers on bare flesh above the broad belt. A few seconds later I let my fingertips barely travel about an inch or so under the belt. She gave a slight shudder – It could have been my fingers, it could have been the wind
"It's becoming cold," I said, wrapping her tighter with my elbows pulled in, onto her soft sides.
