Aunt Ann's Pony Life Ch. 01

"It's important, Davey," she said, propped up on an elbow and smiling at me.

"Okay, I get it," I said, smiling up at her, "but what exactly is it that we're talking about?"

She blushed prettily, as she does.

"I can't really tell you without seeming to be crazy," she said, leaning down to kiss me lightly, "but I'll take you this weekend."

I tried to grab her but she knew me too well and slipped away heading for the bathroom.

Damn but I do love watching her move. The woman has a truly world-class ass.

I lay back, hands behind my head, just thinking. It was a big step for both of us. To actually move in, to be living together, too, well, to commit.

Preface

Aunt Ann is my dad's brother's wife. Well, ex-wife. As I learned over the years it turns out that Uncle Don was one of those abusive men. Not a coward as so many are. God, I had seen him once take on three guys in a bar fight and win even with a cracked rib. But he was a hitter with his wife and eventually she sent him away. Did the changed lock and court order and the whole thing.

She had called my mom, in tears, and mom being mom and only marginally sober had said "come on over."

Ann lived with us for almost three years, from the time I was 18 through 20. I was, well, kind of socially backward. Being raised by an alcoholic will do that to you. When I was home, alone on weekends, well, she was there.

Living together in that small house, two bedrooms, and one bath, and my bedroom taken over by Ann relegating me to the converted garage, and my bunk bed, we tended to be kind of casual about clothes and all. And, well, I was just 18 when she came to live with us.

The night my life changed we were sitting on the couch, me in my shorts and her in that cotton nighty she tended to wear around the house. She's an over-the-top Elvis Presley fan and we were watching a movie, "King Creole" if it matters. I was sort of snuggled against her, her arm around me and my head sort of resting on her shoulder.

And her breast was right there.

I was, I guess you'd say I was nuzzling against her. God, her breast was so warm and soft. Honestly, I pretty much forgot there was even a movie on.

She was casual as she reached under her nightgown top and just pulled that tit out.

I froze.

"Is this what you want Davey?" she asked and when I dared to look up and meet her eyes she was smiling.

"It's okay honey," she said, using her hand to brush her nipple against my lips.

I was frozen.

"Take it, honey," she said, pushing her nipple, hard now, against my lips.

I took her nipple into my lips and sort of kissed at first.

"More baby," she sort of whispered, pushing until I opened my mouth a little and accepted the areola and some breast tissue.

Then it seemed natural to start working her nipple and areola against the roof of my mouth with my tongue.

For the first time in my life, I heard that soft little moan/hum that I later learned to understand was the sign that she was getting aroused.

I have absolutely no idea how long we sat like that. It seemed like an hour but it was probably more like 5 minutes.

"Enough honey," she said and used her finger to break the latch I had formed.

"Here," she said, lifting out the other breast.

It took a minute or two to work out positions but we wound up with my head almost in her lap, her arm supporting it, and latched onto that other boob. My eyes were closed and I was, well, I guess "content" is the word.

When she touched my erection, so hard it was throbbing, I came at the first touch causing her to giggle.

I started to pull off of her breast but she held me to it.

"Don't feel bad Davey," she said softly, "you just paid an old woman a wonderful compliment."

I was 18 and, as they say, young, dumb, and full of cum. I've heard that age called being "a large hormone with tennis shoes" and, honestly, that probably fit me at that age.

In about 15 minutes, with some kissing and touching and exploring, learning about her body as well as her breasts I was hard and ready again. She was gentle with me, guiding me, leading me, and telling me what she needed.

As I entered her she was relaxed, hot, and wet but very very, well, what I've come to think of since as "loose."

I looked down at her and she smiled and suddenly squeezed with her vaginal muscles, literally pulling me deeper.

Her smile when my eyes got big showed me the beautiful 18-year-old she had once been.

I still wasn't sure what to do and she talked me through it.

"Pull out a little honey, and then back in," she said softly, her hands light on my back and that smile just lighting her face.

As I did what she said I understood. God, she felt good, surrounding me like that.

I lasted a bit longer that second time and the pure physical pleasure of cumming inside of a woman, inside of her, is the single event that I still compare every other experience too. Most, I'm afraid, are found wanting.

Soft again and laying by her side I got my first lessons in real man-woman kissing. We shared a pillow, our lips so close that the tiniest movement became a kiss. And then we explored. Before that first wonderful night was over I had her five times and on the fifth, she finally achieved her orgasm.