Her house is big and quaint, and I wandered round it looking at the antique and period furniture while we were supposed to he carrying my luggage in. The old parlor was fixed up as a study, with shelf after shelf of books, a table dominated by a big, new IBM electric, and filing cabinets where she kept carbons and correspondence and research notes. She was halfway through a new Gothic right now, and Lee and I both sensed that she'd really like to be working. So he drank a quick cup of tea and made his excuses. I waved good-bye and hoped I might see him again. If he was Aunt Susan's regular, I supposed I would.
She fixed sandwiches but I didn't feel like eating. My tummy was still upset, and my lunch consisted of a couple more Midols while we sat talking on the shady front porch.
'You've grown up while I wasn't looking,' Aunt Sue complained gently. She sat lazily on the swing and I could almost see the curve of her left tit where her baggy shirt threatened momentarily to cling to her body. It was the first time I'd even guessed she had a figure.
Aunt Susan talked exuberantly and fluidly, like someone making up for lost time. I asked her about Lee; she seemed to enjoy speaking on that subject, and I gave her her head.
They'd met at the university library, while she was researching a historical. One of her characters was Robert Burns, a specialty of Lee's. He guided her to some useful books and references, and they'd been friends ever since. Very good friends, if the sparkle in her eyes when she mentioned his name had any significance.
'That's great, Aunt Sue,' I congratulated, 'but I want to tell you now – if having me around is cramping your style any – I mean, I'm a big girl I know the score. So [missing text].'
She didn't understand. I could see it as soon as I started to talk. 'You and Lee,' I went on. 'If he's been living with you, you don't have to move him out on my account. It's cool with me.'
'Living with me?' Aunt Susan said in a very strained voice. She was red as a lobster.
'You and he are lovers, aren't you?' I asked, venturing all.
'Lovers?' She was absolutely aghast. She stood up and began to pace the porch. I felt about two feet tall and I didn't like the taste of my foot, stuck in my mouth.
She turned suddenly. 'What makes you think that Lee and I – we're just friends. I enjoy talking to him, I think he enjoys talking to me – that's all, Pam, that's all!'
How could I have made such a boo-boo? How could I have remotely considered the idea that Aunt Sue and Lee Kinloch were shacking up? They were friendly, sure, and if I'd been in her shoes, I'd have damn well been shacking with him. But Aunt Sue was somebody else, not me. She was a dowdy, frowsy woman a breath and a half away from being an old maid. Unattractive, to say the least. Why would a right-on guy like Lee even want to ball it up with her? He probably got off socializing with her as a breather between bed-wrestling with frisky young coeds at the university.
'I'm sorry, Aunt Sue,' I tried to apologize, but the words seemed so inadequate. 'I'd better go up and unpack,' I said, making for the door. 'Guess you have to get back to the typewriter, and I've kept you long enough.'
When I came down from my room, after putting all my clothes away, her study door was closed and I could hear the machine gun rattle of her a typewriter. I thought about popping in, but decided against it. She was entitled to some peace from me. So I went outside to walk around the property.
I left the house far behind and stood atop the ridge, straining my eyes to see anything. There wasn't anything to see, except for the trees and the fields stretching away in the distance. It was quiet and lonely up here, and the summer sun bathed the ridgecrest in warm, glimmering rays. I soaked it up with my body, turning this way and that to rinse myself on both sides, and then I smoothed a place in the high grass so I could stretch out.
Such a nice day, too warm and sunny for clothes. I sat up and removed my blouse and bra, smiling as my bared nipples sprang up immediately, and then I lay down once more. I closed my eyes against the sun's rays and lay in the fragrant grass, shifting my shoulders to let that good warm feeling touch me everywhere from head to waist. My hips moved, too, and the menstrual cramps that had been bothering me most of the day didn't seem so bad any more. The sunshine was direct and soothing, and I could hear crickets chirping in the field and birds singing off in the distance.
Being on the rag isn't my favorite time of the month. I feel bloated and run-down, and mostly I feel like shit. Sometimes I get so horny I want to jump out of my skin – the urges become intense and my skin crawls with lust. But masturbating is so messy, and guys don't want to get involved with you when you're dripping a little, and as the sun bathed me, I felt an ache in my bones. There was a horny coming on.
My legs were pressed tight and they worked a gentle squeezing pressure on my cunt that made the tampon inside me feel like a poky little cock. I lifted my knees, bringing the heels back nearly to the cheeks of my ass, and I humped upward against that juicy feeling.
During menstruation my cunt feels almost raw, and of course it's always wet inside. The slightest increase of pressure or stimulation makes me pant and hardens my nipples, and right now I could feel my teats growing stiffer than the sun and a gentle breeze had already gotten them.
I could have gotten off easily, by rubbing my hands over the crotch of my jeans, but it seemed too easy. One good stroke and I'd have burst into flames. Just one. On the other hand, I could make it last longer by keeping on the way I was going.
I gritted my teeth and made my thighs rub together with more vigor, frictioning them the way a Boy Scout fucks around with his twigs in the big forest. The smooth columns of flesh, each encased in a sleeve of denim, came together, scraping, rustling, and I felt myself growing ever warmer. I ground my butt into the grass as I heaved in a restrained bout of self-seduction.
Oh, why did it have to be self-seduction? Why couldn't I have someone like Lilly here with me, using her naughty hands and mouth on every part of my body while I did the same to her? Or, even better, what about Lee Kinloch? He was a great-looking guy, best I'd seen since leaving home this morning, and he dripped with sexy charm, not at all matching my image of a stuffy college professor. And if Aunt Susan was only using him as a conversational partner, maybe I could snag him for discussions of more basic subjects. He'd be my first older man, really, barring a few seniors I'd fucked when I was in tenth grade, and they didn't count.
Hey, Pam! Whispered my brain. Remember – this was supposed to be a vacation. You were going to make important decisions about your life. Take it easy, decide whether you were or weren't just wasting your time screwing around with guys.
But – this might be the best way to find out. I mean, if I got it on with Lee Kinloch, and it turned out to be just another screw, then I could really be more certain that Lilly was right about me and her. That made sense.
I began to open and close my legs, bringing them together with a soft thud that vibrated thrillingly upon my pussy, where it nestled inside the tight crotch of my pants. I was wearing panties, of course, thick cotton ones that I could throw away if I leaked, and they were big and bulky inside my snug-fitting jeans. As I got hotter, my cunt seemed to swell up magnificently, threatening to split all my seams, and that little menstrual device didn't seem little at all now. My pussy-lips were molded round its intruding bulk, massaging it, stroking it with soft, fluttering ripples, and it felt like a cock that had been put in me soft and was hardening with each second of additional penetration. That was nice.
I pulled my knees up and made them rub on my bare tits, while one arm locked behind them, keeping them up and in place. With the stiff, extended fingers of my other hand I began to make little footstep-like patters across my butt, just a tippy-tip-tip touching action that was only meant to amuse me.
It must have gotten out of hand, to coin a phrase.
I was thinking about Lee Kinloch and the prospects of getting him into my pants when a warm, throbbing burst of sensation fluttered in my pussy and I felt sunny and bright inside. My legs twitched where I held them up, and then they sagged, and I lay stretching on the grass once more, letting the sun warm my bare tits while I purred in a kind of contentment. It wasn't the best, but it would do for now. I'd taken the edge off my horniness.
Aunt Susan was on a good writing streak, it seemed, because she was still barricaded in her office at eight o'clock that evening. I fried up a couple of cheeseburgers, mixed a salad, and carried supper into the study. She looked up with a startled smile and stopped work long enough to polish off a snacky meal. We talked in circles the while, me afraid to say much lest it blow her cool again. Aunt Susan was just as old-maidish as she looked. How could I ever have thought she knew the score?
