Long time coming SeXStoRY

Long Time Coming. A work of fiction. This happened about fifty years ago, but I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was f******n at the time, of course in those days, things were totally different. Sex was not so in your face as it is today. I lived at home with my mother, my father having died five years earlier. My mother gave birth to me when she was forty six, let’s call her Mary, she had a s****r Elizabeth, who was a few years younger than her, so that made her fifty eight to my mother’s sixty. They were as different as chalk and cheese. They were always falling out as Aunt Betty, as I called her, liked a drink and my mother was teetotal. This particular time was when they were talking to one another. Aunt Betty had come to visit for the day and I was on my school holidays. They were talking about this and that, I don’t suppose I was taking too much notice of their conversation, but I recall hearing Betty saying that Len, that was her husband, hadn’t touched her for years. What prompted me to take notice, was when my mother said, ‘careful what you say Betty, I think he’s listening.’ The conversation changed and I guessed that it was something appertaining to sex. I waited for a bit, then as if bored, said, ‘I think I’ll go upstairs and read.’ Closing the door from the living room, I sat down on the bottom tread of the stairs and listened. After a few seconds, I heard my mother say, ‘you should be more careful what you say in front of David, he’s only f******n.’ Betty dismissed this and repeated what she had said about her husband not touching her down there for years. ‘I would have thought you were past that sort of thing at your age Betty.’ Said my mother. Betty sighed, ‘really Mary, I think you’re getting old before your time, don’t you miss that wonderful feeling when you come?’ ‘I most certainly do not, I think it’s disgusting that you still want to bother with all that mucky stuff, so can we please drop the subject?’ This was a revelation, my aunt was still interested in sex, but my mother wasn’t. My mother spoke, ‘do me a favour, give David a call and ask what he wants for his dinner.’ As quickly and as quietly as possible, I made my way upstairs and just as I got inside my room, I heard Betty call up the stairs. I told her I was coming down. After we had eaten, I did the washing up and made a pot of tea. I studied my aunt and mother. Mum was plumper than aunt Betty, who could be described as skinny. Their hair was different to. Mum’s darker, with just a smattering of grey. Aunt Betty’s was almost white. I thought a great deal about what I had heard. Not knowing much about sex, I assumed that what aunt Betty wanted was to be touched down there, thinking she wanted her vagina to be fingered. I reasoned that if that’s what she wanted, then I would be willing to do it for her, all she had to do was ask. Weeks passed and there was no sign of her asking me. Then quite by chance, I met her when I was coming home from a friends. ‘Hello David, how are you?’ ‘Hello aunt Betty, I’m fine, how are you?’ Then she winked, ‘all the better for seeing you.’ Was this the sign I was waiting for? We were nearer to her house than mine, so I asked if I could come with her and have a cup of tea, this she agreed to. I sat in the front room while she made the tea. We sat drinking the tea and it was then that I noticed the way she was sitting. Her knees were parted. I had noticed that older women had a tendency to sit like this, but I imagined that this was her way of trying to tell me that she wanted my help. Betty produced a small bottle of whiskey from her apron pocket. I think most of the women I knew wore aprons, though none as far as I knew, had bottles of whisky in the pockets. Tipping a fair bit into her tea, she winked at me and said, ‘best not mention this to your mum, you know what she’s like about me having a drink.’ I promised that I would not say anything to her. Several more measures from the bottle and I could tell she was slightly tipsy. Also her posture was becoming very unladylike and a couple of times she spread her legs wide apart. It was then that I saw her underwear on one side had slipped into the crease between her legs. I could see her pubic hair. It was dark, I always imagined it would be the same colour as the hair on her head. I was sure she noticed me looking, but she did not say anything. I was convinced that this the signal and that she was waiting for me to take the initiative. I thought of how best to proceed. Should I just ask her? I formed the words in my head. ‘Aunt Betty, would you like me to finger your vagina?’ I decided against that. Nothing sounded right, I knew that women liked romance, but could not think of a romantic way of phrasing this. Action. That’s what was needed, actions speak louder than words. As I deliberated on what to do, aunt Betty stood up. She walked over to the fireplace and leaned on the mantelpiece. I saw that her feet were spaced quite far apart. Aunt Betty was showing me what I had to do. I stood up and walked over to where she was. I stood behind her and placed my hand in her shoulder. ‘Are you alright aunt Betty?’ ‘Yes, I just feel a bit, you know, unusual.’ That was the signal, it was as plain as the nose on my face. I dropped my left arm down until it was level with the hem of her dress. My heart was pounding in my chest as I slid my hand up her dress. It wasn’t until I clamped my hand onto her mound and felt the material of her knickers and the pubic hair that she reacted. It was as if in that instant she sobered up. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ ‘Oh shit.’ I thought. This was not the reaction I expected. ‘Sorry aunt Betty, I thought you, I mean I…’ I was unable to think of anything to justify what I had just done. ‘Sit down David,’ she ordered. I complied. ‘What on earth would make you do a thing like that?’ My mind was in turmoil, what if she told my mother. ‘I’m sorry aunt Betty.’ ‘I’m not asking for an apology, I want to know what possessed you to touch me like that?’ Then I remembered what she had told my mother about uncle Len not touching her for years. I explained that I thought that as he hadn’t touched her like that down there, then she might want me to help her by doing it. It was some time before she spoke. ‘I suppose you realise that what you just did, was the same as if you’d touched your mother down there?’ My mouth dropped open. I imagined my mother’s reaction if I had tried to touch her like that. I just shook my head. ‘When you say you wanted to help me, are you saying you wanted to masturbate me?’ This was the first time it was said what I wanted to do to her. ‘Yes, I thought that’s what you wanted.’ There was a slight smile on her face, as if my ignorance was causing her some amusement. ‘David, why would I want you to do something I can already do for myself?’ Wow, this was not what I expected. I thought she was going to subject me to a telling off, or threatening to tell my mother. Now she was practically admitting that she masturbated. Betty continued, ‘because you chose to eavesdrop on a very private conversation between your mother and I, you obviously failed to understand that I was referring to your uncles reluctance to have intercourse with me. That is what I meant.’ Then without thinking, I said, ‘well, I can do that if you want.’ Betty shook her head. ‘David, I think you know that can never happen, I think the best thing would be to forget this ever happened. In case you’re worried, I give you my word that I won’t say anything to your mother, or to your uncle Len. Now get yourself off home and I’ll see you the next time I visit.’ As I walked home, I reflected on what I had done, and how lucky I was that aunt Betty was so understanding. My relationship with my aunt appeared to be like it used to. My mother and Betty fell out many times over the next two years. Then the unimaginable happened. Uncle Len died. Apparently he had been ill for some time. Naturally, mum and Betty made up. We attended the funeral and after the service, we all went back to Betty’s for the food and drink. Mum asked me to make sure Betty didn’t drink any whisky. It was strange, but she never even looked at the bottle on the sideboard. After everyone had gone, mum and I tidied up and she washed and I dried and put the dishes and glasses away. It was then that Betty went to the sideboard and poured a glass of whisky, she also poured two glasses of lemonade. Handing us the lemonade, she held her glass up and said. ‘A toast to Len, a good father, a hard worker, but a lousy husband.’ Mum and I hesitated. ‘Come on, a toast has been given, it’s disrespectful not to finish a toast to the dear departed.’ Mum and I raised our glasses and said, ‘to Len.’ Betty downed the whisky in one. Mum stiffened when Betty walked towards the sideboard, but instead of picking up the whisky bottle, she poured a glass of tonic water. I felt slightly relieved as I didn’t want them falling out, not today of all days. ‘Thank you Mary, I don’t think I could have got through today without you.’ Then added, ‘and of course my favourite nephew David. Even at sixteen I still blushed. When mum was certain that Betty wouldn’t start drinking, she said, ‘perhaps it’s time for us to go now.’ Betty nodded her head, then said, ‘can I ask a favour?’ Mum nodded. ‘What is it?’ ‘Would you let David stay, just to keep me company?’ Mum looked at me, ‘it’s up to David.’ I saw no reason why I shouldn’t, so I said, ‘of course aunt Betty, I don’t mind.’ ‘There’s no bed in the spare room, so you’ll have to sl**p on the settee, I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets.’ After mum had gone, Betty made us some drinking chocolate and we sat talking. Then she asked, ‘do you remember that time you touched me up?’ I had almost forgotten my indiscretion. Strange to bring it up now after almost two years. ‘Yes.’ I thought it best not to elaborate my answer.’ Then she took my empty cup off me and stood up. ‘Time for bed.’ I bid her a goodnight and she left me to sort my sl**ping arrangements with the settee. Not having any pyjamas, I stripped down to my pants and vest. I had just settled down on the settee, when the door opened. Betty’s head appeared around the door. ‘David, would you come into my room for a minute?’ ‘I don’t have any trousers on aunt Betty,’ I answered. ‘That’s alright, wrap a blanket around yourself, it’s quite important.’ I did as she asked and followed her to her room. When I walked in, she had already got into bed. Patting the area next to her, she said, ‘I need to speak to you.’ I sat down, ‘what about?’ ‘Would you mind if we talked about that time?’ I was lost, ‘what time aunt Betty?’ ‘When you felt me up.’ ‘Oh, that, I thought you said it was best forgotten about.’ ‘Can I ask, did you mean it, about wanting to help me?’ ‘I know it was a crass and stupid thing I did aunt betty, don’t forget I was only f******n.’ ‘Can I tell you something David, I’ve never stopped thinking about that day. I was angry at first. You know if I’d have let you and someone found out, well, I could have got into a lot of trouble.’ ‘It’s alright aunt Betty, I understand.’ Then she slipped out of bed and walked over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantelpiece. I just stayed sat on the bed. ‘David, can you come over here and talk to me? you know, like you did on that day.’ My heart began pounding in my chest. What did she want me to do? I climbed off the bed and walked over to her. ‘Put your hand on my shoulder and say what you said that day.’ I tried to remember what I had said to her. ‘Are you okay aunt Betty?’ ‘Yes, I just feel a bit, you know, unusual.’ I felt her tremble. ‘Do it.’ Was she asking me to touch her again? ‘Do it David.’ Her voice much lower this time. I lowered my hand to the hem of her nightdress. I had a terrible sense of déjà vu. All the time, she kept repeating, ‘do it.’ As my hand moved slowly up her nightdress, I was waiting for a rebuke. Swallowing hard, I placed my hand over her mound, half expecting to feel the material of her underwear. Instead I felt hair. Betty groaned and she bent at the knees slightly. My fingers felt moisture and started to slide into the oily wetness of her vagina. ‘Urghhh.’ A groan escaped her lips. ‘Please David, I need this so much.’ I was surprised how wet she was. I worked two fingers inside her. ‘No, not this, I need you inside me.’ I had not contemplated this. Then I realised that I had an erection. I removed my hand as she led me to the bed. Climbing onto it, Betty hitched her nightdress up around her waist. The light from the bedside lamp illuminating her belly and the dark hair below it. Laying down, she beckoned me to her. I dropped the blanket and my hardness pushed out the front of my underpants. I climbed onto the bottom of the bed. Betty raised her knees up and spread her legs apart. My head was spinning. I always imagined I would lose my virginity to someone nearer my age, not to a sixty year old woman. ‘Slide your pants down David,’ her voice had an almost hoarse quality to it. As I did, I watched her face, there was a trace of moisture in her eyes. ‘Oh David, it’s beautiful, don’t be afraid, move on top of me.’ I shuffle forward on my knees until she reached for me and pulled me on top of her. Her hand reached down between our two body’s and took hold of my throbbing member. I was worried that I was not going to be big enough. Like most boys my age, I measured myself and my almost six inches made me feel a little inadequate. Pulling back my foreskin, she said, ‘don’t push it in too quickly, you’re much bigger than your uncle Len was and it will take me a while to get used to your size.’ I felt so much better hearing this from her. The wetness against the end of my penis. ‘Push forward David.’ I eased myself forward and it began to slip into her vagina. Then the head just sort of popped in on its own. We both let out a little gasp. Bit by bit I eased it into her until our bodies were pressed together. ‘You need to pull back until it’s almost out, then push it back in, just keep doing that.’ Under her instruction, I managed to build up a rhythm. Then she asked, ‘what are we doing David?’ ‘Having sex.’ I answered. ‘No, what’s the rude word?’ Surely she didn’t mean the ‘F’ word. ‘Say it David, what are you doing to me?’ ‘I’m fucking you aunt Betty,’ half expecting a reprimand. ‘And where are you fucking me?’ ‘In your bed.’ I’m not sure why I gave such an inane response. I heard an almost imperceptible sigh of irritation. ‘Say it David, it makes it better.’ Taking a deep breath, I said, ‘I’m fucking you in your cunt.’ Betty gave out a groan and I felt her vagina clamp around my penis. ‘Oh yes David, fuck my cunt, let me feel your prick fucking my cunt, urghhh.’ Placing her hands on her knees, she pulled her leg back until they were almost against her chest. ‘Now you can fuck me harder David, urghhh, fuck my cunt harder, urghhhhhhh.’ Again her vagina tightened around my penis. We were both sweating, her nightdress clinging to her body. I could feel the sweat running down my back and starting to trickle down between the cheeks of my backside. Again and again she grunted as she came. I felt the tingle that signalled the onset of my climax. ‘I’m nearly there aunt Betty,’ I warned her. ‘Oh yes, fuck your come into Betty’s cunt, urghhh.’ When it started, it was nothing like when I masturbated, it was like fireworks going off behind my eyes. I seemed to come forever, but I knew it was only a few seconds. As she brought her legs down, I slid out of her. I flopped down beside her on the bed. We were both breathless. Then she rolled onto her side and looked me in the eyes. ‘That was wonderful David, I’ve thought about that everyday, it was even more wonderful than I imagined it would be.’ ‘Thank you so much aunt Betty, I can’t think of words to describe it.’ Smiling, she said, ‘I know, pity though.’ ‘What?’ I answered. ‘It was such a long time coming.’ I visited my aunt many times, until sadly she passed away. Mum commented when we visited the chapel of rest, that she seemed to look younger. ‘I think it was because she gave up drinking.’ I said. Mum shook her head. ‘No David, I think it was the times you stayed at her house.’ Then she gave me a little wink. ‘Perhaps you might help make me look younger.’ But that’s another story.