Aunt Jane Ch. 01

With summer approaching and nothing compelling on my schedule, I had expressed frustration to both my parents over not being able to enroll in an appropriate computer science class at the local community college. Mom had mentioned this to Aunt Jane during a telephone conversation, and Aunt Jane had quickly suggested that I enroll in the course at the junior college near her and Uncle Dick's home in San Diego. She volunteered to keep me well fed during the eight-week course.

When Mom repeated Aunt Jane's suggestion, it took little reflection on my part to decide. A summer of one course and the rest of the day on the beach was pretty much a "no brainer." My enrollment was arranged over the next couple of days, and I began packing. My wardrobe needed to consist of little more than shorts and t-shirts, though I gave in to Mom's hectoring that I include some "nice things" for special occasions.

I had visited Uncle Dick and Aunt Jane's place a couple of times before, but as a child. The memory of the salt air that wafted in their open windows and patio doors was still clear in my mind. The patio of their townhouse literally opened onto the white sand of a long and beautiful beach in San Diego. The trip would be another first for me – a ten-hour ride on Amtrak.

After kissing or hugging everyone in the family goodbye, I rode with my dad to the train station. We were quick, as always, with our farewell, and I boarded the train with plenty of excitement. I had brought along a couple of paperbacks for entertainment, but the rapidly changing scenery held my attention for almost the entire trip.

The train pulled into the San Diego station shortly after 9:00 p.m. I stepped down from the train and breathed deeply, taking in the contrast of the great San Diego atmosphere and the diesel fumes generated by the engine. In less than ten seconds I spotted Uncle Dick ambling toward me in the distance. Like my dad, his brother, Uncle Dick is well over six feet, but he is of much heavier frame. He is a highly skilled machinist and works in the aero/space industry.

Uncle Dick extended his hand and gave me his trademark bone-crushing handshake. I grinned, and he grabbed my single duffle bag, tossing it over his shoulder as though it was weightless. We strode together to the parking lot, found his big SUV, and began the twenty-minute drive home. He warned me in advance that Aunt Jane had been baking up a storm in preparation for my arrival.

No sooner had we pulled up in front of their townhouse, than Aunt Jane literally bounded out the door to greet me. I hadn't seen her in several years, but my childhood perception of her as very pretty remained unchanged upon seeing her. She hugged me tightly and kissed my cheek. My failure to notice or remember her very large breasts is probably attributed to my age when last seeing her, but it was impossible to miss now. Though of very trim figure, Aunt Jane's bosom was magnificently endowed.

Grabbing me by the upper arm, Aunt Jane led me into the house, while Uncle Dick grabbed my bag and followed. She quickly directed me to a chair in the kitchen and slid a large slice of freshly baked chocolate cake in front of me, along with a tall glass of milk. I grinned and reached for my fork. Uncle Dick joined me, and in an interval of a very few minutes, we managed to do damage to nearly half of a very large cake. Aunt Jane just sat across from us with her chin in her palms, beaming from ear to ear.

When the cake was eaten, Aunt Jane dragged me upstairs and proceeded to help me unpack my things. Their townhouse is of modern design, with two bedrooms – both upstairs, each with its own bath. Both bedrooms open onto a rooftop deck that affords incredible views of the beach and the Pacific. I was thrilled at the prospect of sleeping here with the ocean air wafting through the screened windows. After turning back my bed, Aunt Jane gave me a quick peck on the cheek and told me she would knock on my door at 6:00 for breakfast.

A regular routine was established beginning early the next morning. Uncle Dick actually awakened me with a loud rap on my door and the announcement, "Daylight in the swamp, time for breakfast!" I stretched and took a deep breath, then bounced up and into the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. When I opened the door to my room I inhaled the aroma of eggs and bacon, and I bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen. I no sooner took a seat at the table, than Aunt Jane slipped a full plate in front of me. Uncle Dick was hidden behind the morning paper and drinking one of several cups of coffee. He left quickly for a shift that begins at 7:00, and I followed shortly thereafter to complete my enrollment and take my first class.

Class ended by 11:00, and I enjoyed the 20-minute walk from the campus back to the townhouse on the beach. After a quick lunch, I changed to swim trunks and headed for the beach. I made friends with several guys and girls on the beach, with whom I played volleyball, drank sodas, and told stories. There was no shortage of cute girls in scanty swimsuits, but there were plenty of guys as well. They invited me to a beach barbeque that evening, but I politely declined and took a rain check for a later time.

On the third night following my arrival, I went to my room shortly after 9:00 p.m. I had smuggled along a Penthouse magazine from Uncle Dick's vast collection of Playboy and Penthouse editions. After reading a few of the "letters" and scanning a couple of the pictorial layouts, my cock was rising toward full erection. I turned on my side, facing the wall, and while I continued to enjoy one of the photo layouts, I began stroking my cock. I must have been pretty intent on what I was doing, as I didn't hear the door open behind me.

I did feel the knee pressed into the bed behind my back, and I experienced one of those moments that last only seconds, but during which a hundred thoughts flash through your mind. Was it Uncle Dick? Aunt Jane? What on earth could I do? I couldn't bring myself to turn and see, but the uncertainty was quickly dispelled. A well-manicured hand with flame-red nail polish slipped beneath my own hand, and Aunt Jane closed her fingers around my cock. Her lips moved close to my ear and whispered, "Let me help you."

She began stroking my shaft, her index finger and thumb tightly encircling the head of my cock with each upward stroke of her hand. As her hand moved down my shaft, her nails would lightly stroke my balls. My cock had lost some of its erection when I felt her knee behind me, but she quickly restored it. Her hand moved skillfully up and down my cock, and though it embarrassed me, I was soon unable to lie still. My hips began to thrust in counterpoint to the movement of her hand. She sensed my increasing arousal and began to whisper into my ear. "Yes, baby, cum for Aunt Jane! You have such a nice big cock. Make it cum for me!"

Encouragement I didn't need, but it didn't hurt. My hip movements became faster, more urgent, and her strokes became more rapid and squeezed tighter. The orgasm overwhelmed me suddenly. My body tightened into a tense continuum from toes to chin, and the cum burst from my cock. Aunt Jane squeezed as it exploded from the tip, shooting a good foot and a half outward and onto the floor beside my bed. "Oh, yes, baby, shoot it for me! Let it go!" My hips thrust erratically two or three times, each time sending another burst of cum flying. I went limp, lying there and feeling flushed from head to toe. Aunt Jane kissed my cheek softly and reached across me to the box of Kleenex on the bedside table. She pulled three or four from the box, tucked them into my hand, kissed my cheek again and whispered, "Goodnight."

I listened to her pad barefoot across the floor, turning off the light as she closed the door. I lay there for more than an hour, staring at the ceiling and wondering how I could walk downstairs to breakfast the next morning.

To Be Continued...