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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Growing up it seemed to be quite common that our parents friends were called Auntie and Uncle, even though completely unrelated. Maybe it was a respect thing given we’d often be treated like one of the family and taken in if ever our parents were busy. It seemed that there was never a shortage of kitchens we could get fed and watered at or nurses to tend our wounds when the bike stunt to end all bike stunts went slightly awry. I was no exception and one in particular would come to leave a lasting impression on me. Auntie Jacqui was my Mum’s best friend. Her partner in crime, not that my Mum was the criminal sort. She was ever-present in our lives on account of her being divorced and her kids living with her ex-husband. It was very uncommon and her relationship with her kids was sporadic and often strained or non-existent. I never asked and never heard any stories as to why this was the case but it meant that she lived down the road with her parents on the very rare occasion she wasn’t at ours drinking tea with Mum and helping out.
Over time she became such an integral part in our family that it didn’t seem strange that she would “tag along” on the usually family days out and even holiday’s. Mum and Dad weren’t close. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that I was convinced I was the result of immaculate conception so it was good for Mum to have a friend around.
Auntie Jacqui was always the flirtier one being single and loved the attention she got when we were out. She usually dressed to impress and didn’t shy away from shorter skirts and tighter tops that showed off her boobs. Not massive, but a good handful. Probably a C or D cup and very proudly placed on her chest. I’d heard her say many times that she thought they were her best feature. Even at 40 she was in great shape and in today’s parlance she’d definitely qualify as a MILF. She was always getting bought drinks and was never short of company if we went to the pub or other event. As I got older (and bolder) I started to really fantasize about her, and looking back it was probably as a result of her that I developed a real “Mrs Robinson” fixation. My mind revelled in imagining her in all manner of situations and me catching her.
As the years went on we seemed to grow closer. She recognised I wasn’t the little boy that would she had to wipe away the tears as she cleaned up a graze or cut and our interactions grew less maternal and more matey. Mum was the one that had to lay down the law, Auntie Jacqui was the one that agreed with my venting that it wasn’t fair and helped me put a positive spin on it. She was the “cool Auntie” that let you take your first glug of alcohol or turned a blind-eye to the stash of magazines under the bed. The older I got the bolder I got, and the more she seemed to respond in kind. Banter became flanter and the witty retorts and one-liners got cheekier and naughtier. It was often remarked by Mum that we were almost verbally jousting, seeing who would draw the line before it got out of hand. As the hormone riddled teenager, it was Auntie Jacqui that always knew when to stop. She'd wink at me a lot, was very tactile with touching my arm or shoulder. And would always insist on a hug and a kiss when we met and said goodbye, even more so as I got older.
It was on one of these family trips that things between Auntie Jacqui and I changed forever. As usual, we'd all been to see my Granny one Mother's Day. She lived a couple of hours away and it was one of the regular trips we made each year, usually with Mum, Dad and my brother. This time, however, my brother had got his first job in a pub and with it being Mother's Day he wasn't allowed the day off and had to work at least one of the shifts. As we would be away all day, he stayed home alone. I was envious knowing that last time that happened he got a couple of mates over and got pissed. Again, his kid brother was missing the fun.
The day was the usual schedule and we arrived late morning. This time it was going to be a little more boring as my brother and I would usually be sent to the park as Mum, Granny and Auntie Jacqui stayed to cook the Sunday roast. Dad had already been dropped off at the pub and would wander back just in time for his food. Another reason why Auntie Jacqui was always there.
After lunch I was to be banished from the house so the grown ups could have a nap. Dad had already disappeared to the pub and wouldn’t want his son cramping his style. Auntie Jacqui saw my face and took pity on me.
“I know,” she said. “It’s a lovely day out so why don’t I forego my afternoon nap and "babysit" you?”
Aside from the word “babysit” I was keen to hear what she had in mind.
“It’s been ages since we’ve been to the river so let’s go and walk some of those roast potatoes off and you can tell me all about your girlfriends?” It was game on then with the verbal jousting was it? But with Granny there I bottled it and just shrugged. “Or maybe you prefer me to push you in the swings?”
“Really? Is that what you meant when you were talking to Mum about swinging?” They both went crimson. They hadn’t, or at least not that I had heard, but they clearly weren’t expecting me to take up the flanter challenge in front of Granny.
Granny guffawed, almost losing control of her dentures.
“Be off with the pair of you, we’ll have none of that nonsense spoken about in this house.”
We grabbed our coats, put our shoes on at the door, and set off for our walk by the river as my mind started to imagine the possible opportunities that being alone with Auntie Jacqui by a secluded river with only sheep to catch whatever clinch we might find ourselves in. Could this be the chance to take things to the next level?
The walk was fun. Auntie Jacqui was great company, and really easy to talk to. She didn't get coy when we spoke about girls I fancied and the anxieties around chatting them up. She gave me great insights into what teen girls wanted in a boy and said numerous times that if she were a girl at school then she'd find it difficult to turn me down. There were the usual touching of arms or asking me to help her over stiles or cattle grids. I so wanted it to be her coming on to me but maybe it was just Auntie Jacqui being Auntie Jacqui. I was desperate to act in my desires. Should I just grab her and kiss her? Maybe I could trip over and as she was helping me up I could pull her down to me? But I wasn't sure if I'd read the signals right didn't want to mess up what we had by getting it wrong and making it awkward between us. Surely she had to know that I would want her. The Mrs Robinson complex was surely a thing she knew of? I wanted her to make the move, or at least make it more obvious she'd welcome my advances. Flanter, no matter how flirty, could just be that.
But nothing seemed to happen on the walk. It was fun. We laughed and joked the whole way round. If I didn’t before then I’d fallen in love with her now. But before we knew it we were back at Grannies house and the walk was over. My chance today had gone and I don’t know if there would be another. We went inside and things were back to normal. Mum and Granny had been busy putting together some finger food after their nap for tea and once finished, we were heading off home. Dad driving, Mum in the front. Auntie Jacqui and I in the back.
It was already late and was soon dark on the winding country roads. It would be a good hour before any sense of civilisation and street lights would be few and far between. The inside of the car was dark with just a little illumination from the dashboard but that wasn’t able to get all the way into the back where it was very dark. Auntie Jacqui announced that seeing as though she'd missed her afternoon nap she would take it now. I pulled the blanket off the parcel shelf and set about putting it over her. She's shuffled about and made sure it was over us both and asked if it was okay if she used me as a pillow. Trying to act cool as I agreed, fireworks were erupting in my head. She snuggled into me, my arm around her and my hand resting on her side. I shuffled down and she was snuggled in closely.
She was so close. Our faces we just inches apart. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the rear-view mirror and realised that Dad would have a perfect shot of anything untoward.
We drove a little way further and under some streetlights as we passed through a little village. Auntie Jacqui groaned as the lights illuminated the car and nuzzled into me as she pulled the blanket further up to cover our faces. Normally I'd hate anything over my face but the extra privacy only added to the sense of tension as my mind raced between kissing her and not. It would take nothing for me to lean my head and kiss her. Should I? Shouldn't I? If anything was to happen I had to be bold. But maybe it was all just in my head, seeing her the way I wanted.
I chose to risk it, or at least test the water. I bowed my head slightly and placed my pursed lips on her forehead whilst pulling my arms a little tighter around her in a gentle squeeze. The kiss was lingering. Not the usual quick peck we'd often share, albeit on the lips. She always insisted that the "continental shit" of kissing cheeks or even the air by the cheeks was for strangers.
This was deliberate. Lasting long enough for it to be noticed that it wasn't just an irreverent platitude. My eyes we closed. If it had been on her lips it was long enough to know that this was to be an intimate kiss, a kiss shared between lovers, a kiss that was a prelude to something much more. Auntie Jacqui responded to my squeezing arms and shuffled as if to get closer to me. Her head moved, hardly noticeable had I not placed my lips on her forehead. And with that my kiss ended with a gentle sound. Auntie Jacqui moaned.
"Sweet dreams honey" I whispered, my words almost as much of a surprise to me as they clearly would have been to her. I hadn't noticed her hand resting on my other arm until she responded with a gentle squeeze.
"That's nice baby." Her words were soft, almost inaudible. Dreamy even. Had she even said them?
I kissed her head again. This time, As I pulled my lips off her forehead, she moved her head and little more and was looking up at me. I could see her eyes, glistening in what little light there was. She released her gentle crip on my arm and reached up to my face, gently caressing my cheek.
"My beautiful boy." Her eyes squinted as she smiled at me. "I've loved you forever baby," she continued. And with that she coaxed towards her with her hand as she lifted hers enough so that the next kiss was on the lips. A soft, gentle, lingering kiss. A kiss that started again as soon as it ended. A kiss like none we'd ever shared before.
On the second kiss my lips parted. Slightly. Involuntarily. She responded. Her lips mirroring mine. Another kiss. An almost silent kiss. And onto another, my lips further apart. Auntie Jacqui's lips still matching my own, her hand pulling my face towards her more forcefully, not wanting me to stop. My lips parted and our heads shifted their angle, her response was immediate and welcoming, almost asking me to control where this kiss was going. My tongue slipped out, just enough to touch my own lips and to my surprise and delight, was met by her own tongue. A momentary hesitation, mutual it seemed, before we both gave into the kiss. Deep, passionate, wet, hungry.
Simultaneously my arm wrapped around her was pulling her closer to me and in doing so my hand rested under her arm and I cupped her breast. My hand froze but the intimacy of the kiss meant I didn't need to stop. I squeezed, she moaned into my mouth. Another squeeze and another gentle moan. My thumb and finger stroked over her boob, tracing the round shape to where I thought her nipple would be. I pressed my digits into the clothed flesh and pinched, knowing that I would have to apply a little force to get through the jumper and bra. It worked and I could feel the stiff nipple through the clothing. Auntie Jacqui caught her breath as I squeezed before kissing in harder as I applied a steady pressure on her nipple.
"You okay back there?"
The words rang out like an alarm bell. What had they heard? Had we been caught?
I opened my eyes and saw Auntie Jacqui's wide-eyed stare, clearly sharing my thoughts. She moved away slightly, releasing just our kiss. Our embrace remaining, my hand on her breast, her hand on my face.
"What?" Auntie Jacqui sounded groggy. "Sorry, was I snoring."
"Yeah, that must have been what I heard," my Dad continued. "or your were in dreamland. Is he asleep too?" He enquired?
"Looks that way." Auntie Jacqui added winking at me. I remained motionless. "Are we nearly home?"
"Not really." replied my Dad. "Probably enough time for you to get back to that dream if you're lucky enough to catch it."
Auntie Jacqui shifted slightly and the blanket slipped down. My eyes flashed closed as I played my part in the subterfuge but I couldn't resist opening ever so slightly to see what was happening and saw my Mum was turned in her seat, looking straight at us. It was difficult to gauge her expression in the dim light but I was convinced they knew what had just happened.
"Okay, I'll keep the snoring to a minimum from now on." Auntie Jacqui shifted a little, adjusted the blanket back to covering us and came back to rest her head on me again. I shuffled and moaned, as if roused but not fully awake and positioned myself so I was facing straight on to Auntie Jacqui. Her eyes were open, staring into my face, trying to read my expression as we passed more streetlights. I smiled and winked. She smiled, nuzzled into me and closed her eyes before we both drifted off to sleep. |
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Xx
