The Garden in France

Tom had been surprised when the offer came but not disappointed. A conversation with his slightly drunk, sixty year-old Aunt, four months earlier, had slipped from his mind by the following morning and yet, here was this invitation in his inbox.

Dear Tom,

I hope you're well and that you recall our conversation at the party for Nan and Grandad. When you offered to come over to France and help me redesign the garden I was so pleased. As I said, I will pay for your flights and your time and you can stay here with me; there's plenty of room since the kids moved out.

I have the summer break beginning the week after next so I hope you could start soon after that.

Let me know,

Lots of love,

Sue xx

His Mum's older sister had been in France teaching English for thirty years. Her husband, Philippe, had died from cancer almost twenty years ago, when Tom was six years old. He didn't remember the Frenchman from Alsace but he did remember the terrible upset in the family when it happened, with his Mum and his Nan crying a lot.

Sue had decided to stay in France; both of her children were very young; Marc was Tom's age and Charlotte was a year younger; but they were at the local school that Sue taught at and she was fully immersed in the French language and culture, so she thought she could cope with being a single parent in a foreign country. In fact she did more than cope; she flourished. She brought the kids up to be fine young people; Marc had become a teacher too and Charlie had just got her Masters degree in languages and had moved to Strasbourg, some thirty miles away, to work at the European Parliament. The 'French family' would visit the U.K two three times a year, usually for family parties, so Tom had always been great friends with his cousins. Marc, like Tom, had a love of football and beer while Charlie had always been great fun and had grown into a gorgeous young woman; tall with long curly hair and great legs.

Tom rang his Mum and told her about the invitation;

"It'll be fine, Mum," he said, "I don't start the new job until August so I'm free for the next month. I get full board, good money and two weeks in the sun; it's perfect."

"Well, I can't believe she asked you, frankly," Carol replied, "surely Marc can do it?"

"Marc is going on a summer camp with his school and anyway; I offered," Tom replied.

"Well don't let her take advantage of your good nature, love; she'll have you doing all of her DIY before you know it," his Mum said, "when are you going to go?"

"A week's time," Tom said, "I'll book a flight tomorrow."

And that was that; discussion over; Tom was going to France to help his Aunt.

A week later Tom emerged from the French side of the Arrivals part of Basel Airport, (he'd been careful not to turn the wrong way and end up in the Swiss side,) and spotted Sue straight away. She was waving at him; a huge smile on her face. He walked towards her, pulling his small suitcase, noting that she had lost some weight since he'd last seen her, at Easter. She was a few inches shorter than his six foot tall, with short, blonde hair. Her trimmer figure emphasised her great tits, as did the tight-fitting top she was wearing. She flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek;

"Oh, Tom; it's so good to see you," she said. She stood back and looked him up and down;

"Are you still working out?" she said, squeezing his upper arm.

"Yes, every day, if I can," he said, "although I expect that the work in the garden will be my workout for the next fortnight." Sue grinned at him;

"You're probably right," she said; "come on, the car's this way." She walked ahead of him, her tight jeans and wedge sandals giving her a great looking arse which she was obviously proud of.

The drive to the house was full of chatter; her catching up with the family news; him asking about his cousins.

"Marc is away for three weeks on this camp that the school runs for underprivileged kids," Sue said, "but we might see Charlie if she can tear herself away from her new job."

"How's that going?" Tom asked,

"Really well," Sue replied, "she's enjoying the challenge of being one of the pool of interpreters during the debates and committees; the next step is to get noticed by one of the MEP's and get taken on a trip abroad; that's where the prestige roles are."

"And the better money, I suppose?" Tom asked.

"Oh, yes," Sue said; "if she was to become the regular interpreter for a Minister, she could double her money; plus, the trips are all on expenses." Tom nodded, understanding more about how things worked. He was proud of his cousin; she had worked really hard at her studies and was now starting to see the rewards for it.

When they got to the three-storey house, Sue took him up to Marc's old room on the top floor. Tom had been here a few times before, especially when he was younger, and he remembered the great view over the village to the Vosges mountains. Sue undid the wooden shutters, allowing the warm sunlight to flood the room.

"You've got your own bathroom next door so you should be fine up here," Sue said.

"Thanks, Aunty," Tom said.

"Let's make it Sue from now on," she replied; "Aunty just makes me feel old." Tom smiled back at her;

"Okay," he said; "anyway, you're not old. Besides, you look great." Sue blushed slightly and kissed him one the cheek.

"Thank you for noticing," she said.

That first evening was warm enough to sit outside to eat and Tom enjoyed the chicken salad and the cheese, washed down with some nice local Riesling. As the light faded, Tom looked at his watch and yawned.

"I'm sorry, Sue, but it's been a long day so I think I'll get to bed," he said, standing up.

"Alright, love," Sue said, "I'll chuck this lot in the dishwasher; don't set an alarm, just get up when you're ready." He leant down and kissed her on the cheek,

"Goodnight," he said, "see you in the morning."

"G'night, love," she said, smiling up at him.

By the time he'd washed and brushed his teeth it was ten o'clock. He undressed and put on a pair of boxer shorts before going over to the window to close the shutters. He leaned out and looked down, remembering that the window was above the decking where they'd been sitting. Sue was still outside, sitting with her feet up on a stool; the single candle flickering next to her. In the gathering gloom he could see her moving but wasn't sure what the movement was. As his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, he could see her right arm jerking backwards and forwards; but he couldn't see her hand; her arm ended at the top of her jeans. It took him a moment to work out what was happening and, when he did, he was transfixed. His Aunt was playing with herself.

Tom watched, fascinated by her arm-movement. She must have undone the jeans because her arm had plenty of room to move and he began to wonder about what she might be wearing underneath. Was it boy-shorts? Was it normal knickers? Was it a thong? Or; was she wearing anything at all? He slipped his hand inside his shorts and felt his growing erection. He stroked his cock, slowly; still staring at his Aunt below. His cock grew thicker in his hand and was soon at it's full size. He pushed his shorts down and stood naked at the window, wanking. He could just hear quiet moans, a sound which made him hornier still. Sue seemed to be bringing herself to climax and he quite clearly heard her say;

"Oh, fuck," as she squirmed in her seat and her hand sped up it's efforts. His cock was now rock hard and he could feel himself close to cumming. He held back a few more seconds and then gripped his foreskin with the fingers of his left hand while pumping hard on his throbbing cock.

His orgasm was long and very strong; the best wank he'd had in ages. As his jerks subsided he heard;

"Fuck, fuck," from the garden below and watched as Sue withdrew her hand from her jeans and then licked each finger carefully, smacking her lips like she'd been eating fried chicken. Tom ejaculated into a tissue, noting that there was a lot of cum, before using another tissue to wipe his cock. He then pulled up his shorts, went to the bathroom and flushed the tissues before returning to his room. When he looked out of the window, Sue and the candle had gone.

Tom woke up next morning with the sun streaming through the open shutters which he'd forgotten to shut; the room was so bright that he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to sleep through to eight o'clock. He finished his morning bathroom routine and was on his way back to the bedroom when Sue shouted up to him;

"Tom? Coffee?"

"Great," he called down, "I'll be down in a sec."

"Don't rush," Sue called back. Tom went into the bedroom and picked out a pair of black underpants from his case. He dropped his boxers and was just stepping into the underwear when a voice said;

"Oh, sorry." Tom lost his balance and fell onto the bed, naked. He just caught sight of Sue and a cup disappearing backwards out of the door. He scrambled into his pants as Sue said;

"I'm so sorry, Tom; I should have knocked. I'll leave it out here."

"Don't worry, Sue; come in." Tom said, grabbing yesterday's t-shirt and pulling it over his head as she came back into the room. She put the cup on the chest of drawers and turned to her nephew, who had the t-shirt around his neck and was still struggling to get his arms into it. He looked up to see her staring at his torso and groin. His briefs were struggling to contain a growing erection and he realised that the shape of his cock was plainly obvious.

Tom finally got the t-shirt on, which was long enough to cover his erection as he sat on the side of the bed.

"Sorry, love," Sue said, "I should have knocked; are you okay?"

"I'm fine; don't worry; I should've closed the door," Tom smiled, trying to diffuse the situation. "Thanks for the coffee; I'll be right down."

Sue nodded and turned to the door;

"I got fresh croissants from the bakery," she said as she headed down the stairs.

Tom sipped his coffee, reflecting on what had just happened. Was it deliberate? Had she tried to catch him naked? As he pulled on his shorts and trainers he thought back to recent family celebrations; he had never felt like Sue was flirting with him or watching him; their relationship was a completely normal one for an aunt and nephew; so what was that? He put on a fresh t-shirt, drained his cup and went downstairs.

Sue was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book. She looked up and smiled at him as he came into the room.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

"Great, thanks," he said, sitting down opposite her. Breakfast was delicious; lots of fruit and croissants, yogurt and berries. Tom took his coffee and sat on the front steps, looking out at the garden. A few minutes later Sue joined him;

"Right," he said; "what's the plan?" Sue began to talk through what she wanted; a fence replacing; a new herb garden planted; an overgrown corner stripped out and a small tree planting; a brick wall repointing and a water feature installing. As she pointed out the various spots where the work was to be done he made pictures in his mind, assessing what would be needed and how long each job would take. They had discussed the weather before he left England; she told him that working in the sun between midday and four in the afternoon was impossible but he said that jobs could be scheduled, some bits could be done in the shade of the house during those hours and that he would work round it. Now he was here he could see that there would not be much shade and that just about every spot Sue pointed to would be exposed to the heat. Now it was his turn;

"Did you get me insured for your car?" he asked.

"Yes; for the full two weeks," she replied. He nodded;

"Good," he said. "You drive me to the wood merchants and the garden-supply place this morning and I'll drive back, to get used to the car and the directions. From tomorrow, I'll take the car to get what I need each morning, on my own. That way you won't be tempted to lift anything or help me to get stuff in and out of the car. After that, I won't need the car for the rest of the day. I don't want you helping with any manual stuff; this is what I do. Once I've dug out the herb garden and put the raised beds in, you can do the planting but that will probably be three days away yet. How does that sound?"

Sue was silent for a moment before saying;

"When did you get so grown up?" He smiled at her;

"When Mum divorced Dad and I became the man of the house, I guess. You only see me at the Chinese or at Mum's house and I'm off duty then; but this is what I do for a living, and I'm bloody good at it. So; do we have a deal?" he said. Sue stood up and took their cups.

"We do," she said, going back inside.

The first two days passed quickly; Tom finished replacing the wooden fence on the first day and then painted it in wood preserver on the second. He enjoyed the work but had to concede defeat to the sun when it became stifling, even in the shade. Sue kept him supplied with plenty of water and the odd mug of tea whilst also feeding him with wonderful baguettes filled with ham, local cheese and tomatoes. Other than that, she did as requested and kept out of his way.

Day Two, while he was painting, was particularly warm so he took off his shirt and covered himself in sun cream, adding his battered old sun hat, which his Granddad had given him. At one point, during the afternoon, he glanced to his left and spotted Sue watching him from the kitchen window, a coffee cup to her lips. He smiled to himself; it wasn't uncommon to have female customers watching him; in fact he'd had several sexual propositions which he'd happily taken up; enjoying an afternoon fucking a forty-something woman with great tits was never a problem for him, despite his work ethic. However, this was his Mum's older sister...

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Sue asked. It was 5pm and Tom had finished the second coat on the fence. He mulled over in his mind; 'Start the next job or down tools and go out?'

"Sounds good," he replied, "can we get in anywhere this late?" Sue smiled at him,

"My friend, Francine, has a restaurant in the mountains; she always keeps a few tables for walk-ins. Besides, it's a Tuesday night so it won't be busy."

Tom nodded;

"Okay," he said, "give me an hour to clear up here and take a shower; how's that?"

"Perfect!" Sue grinned at him and walked back into the house. He cleaned the brushes and paint-pot and put them away then walked along the fence, inspecting his work. It looked good and, as it was the fence facing the road, he knew it was important that Sue was happy with it. He went back indoors and climbed the stairs to the first-floor landing. As he passed the bathroom on that floor he heard Sue humming to herself in the shower. He stopped for a moment, imagining her soaping herself, and wondering what her body looked like. By the time he reached the second floor and his bathroom, he had a raging hard-on. He stripped quickly in the bathroom and stepped into the shower. He poured some thick body-wash onto his hands and began to stroke his cock, enjoying the feel of the cold, thick liquid on his shaft and balls. He stroked slowly at first but soon sped up as he realised that he was so turned on that he was going to cum fairly quickly.

As he got close to orgasm he turned on the shower but kept his back to it. He put out his right hand, palm up, to catch a few drops of water. As soon as he put his hand back around his cock it lathered up; the sensation was so sensual that he came immediately, flooding his fist with thick, white, sticky cum, his knees buckling as the orgasm flooded through his body. When the sensation subsided he began to shower normally, washing away the grime of the day and enjoying the feeling of the hot water on his aching muscles. When he'd finished he dried himself and wrapped a towel around his waist to walk the few steps to his room. Once inside, he closed the door firmly behind him, finished drying himself and got dressed. He put on boxers, beige chinos and a loose, white short-sleeved shirt before stepping into blue canvas shoes. He sprayed on a small amount of cologne, styled his hair and checked himself in the mirror. Satisfied, he made his way downstairs.

In the kitchen, Sue was sitting on one of the high seats at the breakfast bar. She was looking at her phone and she was facing the door. She was wearing a white, cotton shift dress that buttoned from top to bottom. Several of the top buttons were undone, revealing a gorgeous, deep cleavage; but that was not what caught Tom's eye. The bottom of the dress was unbuttoned to near the top of her thigh. Her legs were crossed which meant that that the dress had fallen open across her thighs and, as he stood there, Sue very slowly uncrossed her legs, giving him a view of a V of white knickers. It was so obvious that it was a deliberate ploy to make sure he could look up her dress when he came through the door.

"There you are," she said, smiling as she caught him looking. She slid off the seat and stood up, right in front of him. She put her hands on his forearms, rubbing them up and down, slowly and looking at him carefully;

"You scrub up nicely," she said, leaning into his neck. "Mmm, and you smell good too." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and stepped back, saying;

"How about me?" She twirled around, letting the thin dress wave and opening the split to show her brown legs. Her strappy wedge sandals gave her legs a great definition; Tom whistled.

"You look great," he said, and meant it. She grinned at him and said,

"Why thank you, kind sir," and for a second their eyes locked and Tom wanted to kiss her red lips.

"Right," he said, snapping himself out of his reverie, "where are we going?" He picked up the car-keys from the table but she held his arm,

"I'll drive, love," she said, "you've been working all day." Tom pulled his arm away and grinned;

"Okay," he said, "you drive there and I'll drive back. That way, you can have a drink; I'll just have one glass of wine because I don't want to be working in that heat with a hangover; how's that?" Sue smiled at her nephew;

"Sounds perfect," she said and he handed her the keys.

The early evening drive was spectacular, taking them through vineyards and wineries to the lower slopes of the mountains. The winding road took them higher, up to the level where the winter snow-gates were until, around a corner, a restaurant appeared, it's lights twinkling.

"Francine," Sue said, embracing a woman who greeted them at the door, "how good to see you."

"Sue, you look so beautiful," Francine replied in perfect English, "I can't believe the change in you, my darling. Tell me; what's the secret?" Sue laughed,

"Merci, cherie; there is no secret, just lots of exercise and a boring diet," she said.

"And maybe plenty of exercise with a sexy young man, eh?" Francine said, looking over Sue's shoulder with a wicked twinkle in her eye.

"Francine!" Sue shouted, pretending to be offended; "This is my nephew, from England; Tom, this horrible woman used to be my friend, Francine." Tom stepped around Sue and kissed Francine on both cheeks;

"Francine, it is great to meet you," he said, holding her gaze the whole time. For a second she seemed taken aback, before the gentle ribbing returned;

"Sue, you cannot bring this gorgeous young man into my restaurant and tell me you are related! He must be your boy toy, surely?"

"It's toyboy, as well you know," Sue said,

"Ah, so he is your..." but Sue cut her off.

"No, he is not. Tom is my sister's boy and he's doing some work on my garden for a couple of weeks," Sue said, firmly. Francine grinned and winked at Tom;

"Ah, oui," she said, "so you trim her bushes, maybe?"