Aunt Edna's Needs Ch. 09

I woke, chilly, and rolled over and kissed her awake.

She was smiling as her eyes fluttered open.

"I love you," I said, and kissed her.

She kissed back, hard, wrapping her arms around my neck, holding me to the kiss.

"Thank you," she said.

I chuckled and asked, "for what?"

"For all of this, honey," she said, "for taking a boring church secretary and turning her into a, well, I'm not sure what I am anymore."

I laughed and kissed her, quickly, and then rolled away before she could catch me.

"For reminding you that you're a beautiful woman, full of love and energy, and deserving all the pleasure I can give you?" I asked, helping her to her feet.

"No, David," she said, very serious now, "for giving me the ability to do this and not feel guilty," and she spread her arms and did a slow turn.

"God, you're beautiful," I said, "but we need to get moving before I freeze."

She giggled and touched her nipples with her fingers, finding them hard little buttons in the chill air.

"Well, I suppose you're right," she said.

"Annddd," I said, chuckling, "we need to shower before dinner. We both smell like piss."

She laughed then, a big belly laugh, the sound echoing across the valley.

She turned and, I thought, rather deliberately posed as she bent over at the waist and started gathering the picnic gear.

"Great ass," I called, gathering up clothes.

She giggled and wiggled it.

We packed, then pulled on clothes, and then headed for the cottage.

We showered, laughing and washing each other, making a game of it.

Clean and dry, I did her hair and makeup again before selecting what she would wear to dinner.

What a difference a few days had made. When I laid out the two items that would be her outfit for the night she didn't hesitate. The top was more a bib than a blouse, a bright yellow panel that ran from a wide collar with two buttons in the back down to a strap of material at the bottom with a second strap that would tie under her arms. I did the two buttons and the straps and stepped back to look.

It was a great look for her. Seen from the front, she was very modest, covered completely from neck to waist. From the back, she was completely bare except for the collar and the two narrow straps tied with bows, one between her shoulder blades and one right where the line of hair down her spine started to spread.

I handed her the skirt, a wrap-around thing, quite modest, falling to mid-calf. When she turned it flared and it was obvious there was nothing underneath.

"You are absolutely GORGEOUS," I said, my hands on her shoulders, not wanting to mess up her hair or makeup.

I took her to a roadhouse on the edge of town, a place we had noticed that proclaimed LIVE MUSIC EVERY NIGHT on the billboard in front.

When we got out of the car I caught her hands in mine and said, "Now listen. If someone asks you to dance, and I imagine they will, you say 'yes.' You dance and flirt and enjoy yourself. If his hands start roaming you don't do anything stupid like yell at him or jerk away." I smiled at her, "enjoy yourself" I repeated, "but just remember who's taking you home, to quote the old song," I added.

"David," she said, the question clear in her eyes.

"Edna," I said, not releasing her hands, "I brought you here to show you off. I want you to enjoy yourself. Do the things you didn't when you were younger, but it's me you're going home with and me who'll have you naked."

She giggled and said, "I'll try."

I laughed and said, "the first time you're asked you'll go and you'll enjoy it you slut you."

She giggled and replied in what would become a traditional exchange between us.

"What you made me," she said.

I took her hand and led her into the place.

We had arrived fairly early, it was about 7:00, and so the place had empty tables.

Dinner was bar food. I ordered a "slopper" which turned out to be a half-pound hamburger covered in green chili and served with French fries and a pickle spear. Edna had something called "Randy's Special" which turned out to be a double cheeseburger with the fixin's.

We shared a pitcher of beer.

The place had been slowly filling and a little before 8:00 the band started tuning up. The guitar player had a Les Paul and a Marshall stack and when he ran a few riffs tuning up I thought he was pretty good.

They started up something slow that I didn't recognize, but it was slow and had a beat and I stood and offered her my hand.

I liked that we were the first on the floor and that as we danced I could see the men, especially, looking.

The band went immediately into Blake Shelton's "Cotton Pickin' Time," a very fast song indeed, and I led her into what I thought was a passable jive. When I spun her away and the skirt flared I liked very much that I heard a few whistles from the crowd.

Back at the table, we sat. She was a little breathless and a lot flushed. We sat through a song and when the band eased into a very passable version of "Unchained Melody," the frontman doing a passable Bill Medley homage, I liked very much that a younger man, older than me, younger than Edna, I guessed him in his 40s, very politely asked her to dance.

She flashed me a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look before she turned her face up, smiled, and said, "of course."

As they stepped off I looked around and spotted a pair of women at a table. It struck me that they might be a pair of lesbians but I didn't get that vibe. More likely, it seemed to me, that they were old friends having a Girl's Night Out.

Anyway, I got up and walked to the table and offered my hand to the short fat one, assuming she didn't get asked as much.

They watched me approach and when I offered my hand she looked startled, looked at her friend, giggled, and stood.

She was a real butterball. A little over five feet tall and probably a little over 200 pounds, she was also cute as a button with a round face, cap of grey hair, and bright dark eyes. Like some short fat women, she also had immense boobs. If I had noticed them earlier my decision would have been easier. I AM a boob man after all.

I walked my little dumpling, Linda if it matters, back to her table after the dance, was introduced to Marie, her friend, and was not surprised to find the table empty when I went back to it.

I looked and found Edna, in the arms of a very young man this time. I imagined he was using a fake ID to get served in this place.

The evening went like that. She danced with a dozen different men and I danced with Linda a few more times.

"I always like to dance with the second prettiest girl in the room," I told Linda as we stepped off into a passable box step to something I didn't recognize.

"Only second?" she asked, giggling but leaning back far enough to meet my eyes.

"I brought the prettiest," I said and she smiled at that.

"How's your memory?" she asked.

"Pretty good," I said.

So she rattled off a ten-digit number.

I laughed and repeated it back to her.

"If you're coming to Denver and interested, well, call me," she said.

I pulled her close then, my hand exploring her back freely. The phrase, from high school I think, "Russian hands and Roman fingers" flashed through my mind as I found the rolls bulging out from where her tight bra cut into her softness.

Edna was at the table when I walked back this time and I could smell her from five paces away.

"Take me to bed, honey," she said, "please. God, I want you so much right now."

I smiled and offered my hand. When she stood I couldn't help but notice that the top back strap was untied and I wondered which of her dance partners had pulled the bow loose.

She was silent on the ride back to the cottage so I didn't try to make conversation or anything.

In the room, her fingers were trembling as she started on my buttons. I was afraid she'd tear one off so I captured her hands in mine and said, "I'll take care of it."

I got my shirt off and then reached around her to pull the remaining ties of her top.

"And who," I asked, chuckling, "pulled on your bow?"

She was blushing furiously.

"Tell me you're not mad," she said.

"Nope. I told you to have fun," I said, "and you clearly didn't forget who was taking you home.'

She giggled and said, "it was Tim, that very young boy. I slapped his face, but not too hard."

I smiled.

"I told you," I said, "you'd be a hit, and you were."

I had undone the skirt and now she stood in only her heels, and she looked very good that way.

I took her into my arms and said, "are you ready for your next lesson?"

She giggled and said, "there's more?"

"Ohhhhhhhhh yeah," I said.

"You know I am," she said.

So I kicked off my shoes and socks, held her hand, and lead her into the bathroom where we peed and brushed our teeth.

Back in bed, we kissed, well, more like we necked like a couple of teenagers. We kissed and touched and whispered "I love you" to each other. I played with that wonderful body hair, enjoying licking her armpit and her nipple and that thick hair on her forearms.

"So," she said, "how long are you going to make me wait for my lesson."

"You do trust me, don't you?" I asked.

By way of answer, she laid back, spread her legs, and said, "have your way with me."

I laughed softly and said, "right idea, wrong position, but hold that thought."

I rolled out of bed and went to my little carry-on and got the tube of Vaseline I had brought for just this, well, this "lesson."

I kissed her and then gently rolled her onto her belly.

"Woof woof," she said experimentally.

"Not quite," I said. I used my hands to adjust her body the way I wanted her. I got her knees apart and moved them forward so her ass was up, and then I pushed down, being gentle but, well demanding, so her breasts were firmly on the sheets, her back arched sharply.

That thick line of hair along her gluteal sulcus was on display in that position and I realized how perfectly it framed the nice round globes of her ass. I began kissing it along that line of thick hair before moving over the roundness.

When I used my hands, palms flat on her cheeks, and spread them, I was kind of surprised by what I saw. I had washed it in the shower but this was the first time I had truly looked.

The tiny opening had a little skin tag right at the bottom and there was a circle of perfectly smooth skin around it. Then there was a circle of very thick, very coarse hair, different from the rest of her silky body hair. Outside of that circle was her normal body hair, silky, laying smooth against her skin.

I bent and began licking and she took a deep breath and whispered, hoarsely, "David."

I stopped what I was doing long enough to say, "I'm not a rapist. You can say 'no' if you want."

She said, well, she sort of moaned, "I'm ready for whatever you want."

I smiled to myself and went back to making love to her ass. I wanted her first time to be good.

I used my fingertips to very gently open her tiny portal and then probed with my tongue, enjoying the way her body tensed and that soft humming sound she made.

That wonderful hair was wet with my saliva when I got the tube of Vaseline out, put a healthy dollop on the end of my middle finger, and for the first time penetrated her anally. That first tentative probe was only to my first knuckle and I just held it there. She drew in a sharp breath.

I held my finger there while I kissed some more until I felt her relax.

A second load of the Vaseline and I probed deeper, this time she stayed relaxed.

By the fourth time, I was using my fingertip to work the lubricant around, stretching her gently.

I took her anally then, very careful, very gentle, and when I was fully inside of her I asked if she was okay.

"Oh God," she said, "who knew there could be such a DELICIOUSLY full feeling."

So I kept going, an easy rhythm, taking it slow and easy, but also feeling her responding now.

Her hips were rocking now, and her breath catching, her womanscent was strong. I had my hands on her hips, encouraging the way she was moving.

When she came I felt her squeeze around me. She tried to lift herself but I had all the leverage and laid my palm flat between her shoulder blades, pressing down so she couldn't.

I kept my rhythm going and felt her cum again, this time there was a sudden hard pressure against the head of my dick where I was deep inside of her.

A third and fourth wave of orgasm followed, with her crying out now, that sound best written as "unghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I held still, letting her finish that time, my hands playing in the hair of her ass.

My hands moved to her hips, holding her there, not allowing her to change her position. When I felt her start to relax I squeezed, making her groan a little.

"Now squeeze, baby," I said.

I felt the powerful sphincter muscles squeeze, almost painfully.

"Now push," I said.

"DAVID!" she cried.

"PUSH!" I said, and slapped her ass hard enough to make her yelp.

"JESUS!" she yelled and I felt her body tense.

There was the hard muscle of her rectal vault pressing on me, trying to push me out.

"SQUEEZE!" I said.

She grunted and bore down, squeezing me almost painfully now.

I thrust, pushing her forward on the mattress.

I felt her cum again, and my own control failed.

When I came my fingers dug into her hips hard enough to make her cry out and I imagined I was leaving matched little circular bruises.

And she screamed into the pillow, a long soundless vowel, "aaaaahhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE."

And she shoved me out. A hard muscular contraction just pushed me out, followed by her turd. Not a big dump, a small, ladylike turd. And suddenly she came again, pushing and screaming.

She pushed me out so suddenly that the second pump of my ejaculation left a line of semen up her back and the third spattered against the body hair of her ass.

I was fascinated by what I was seeing. Her asshole was bulging and I could see dark red muscle where she was opening up.

With one final scream, she squirted.

No, let me start that sentence again, it doesn't really capture what happened.

With one final scream, she sprayed. Her thin, milky discharge sprayed up my chest to my face. I tasted her release, salty and oily with just a hint of an undertaste of urine.

And she prolapsed anally. Hard red muscle pushed out in a domed projection a couple of inches diameter and three or four inches long.

At the same time, she had forced her cervix and uterus out, the hard contraction of her muscles approximating the final push of childbirth.

When I touched that hard dome at her asshole, and I had no hope at all of resisting the urge to touch, she screamed again, her body sort of twitched, and everything went back inside.

"Oh, Jesus," she moaned and collapsed.

"Oh, Jesus," she sort of whisper/moaned again as my weight came down on her.

"Oh JESUS," she said again, her voice clearing now.

Another wave hit her and she sort of moaned.

"Are you okay," I asked, truly concerned. I had never seen anything like that before.

She didn't answer, just sort of laid there, panting, gasping for breath, making little "hunh" sounds with each pant.

"Are you okay?" I repeated, leaning back to take the pressure off of her.

"Y-y-y," GASP, "yes."

"Stay still," I said, and reached down and picked up the turd laying on the bed, warm and firm, and rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom where I dropped it into the toilet and flushed.

Then I went back to the bed, chuckling at the wet line where she had sprayed, crawled back up so my knees were between hers, laid my palms on her cheeks, and began licking her clean.

It is a very special intimacy after anal sex, that I enjoy very much. The smell was earthy but not unpleasant, and there was no taste. But there was a noise as he sort of squealed, "DAVID!?"

I took my time. The way she had lost control left her messier than any woman I'd ever done this with, but that just made it more special. She was moaning, saying things like, "oh God," and "oh Jesus," and a simple "DAVEY!"

But her voice was changing as I kept cleaning her. It changed from "Oh God," as a sort of plea to stop into, "ohhhhh God," as an encouragement.

I took my time, carefully cleaning that thick circle of hair and, of course, the tiny rosebud of her anus, probing gently with my tongue, drawing a soft hum from her.

Finally, satisfied that she was clean enough, I crawled up next to her and began stroking her hair.

"Oh Jesus," she sort of moaned, "I'm sorry, baby," and I laughed and brushed a few stray hairs away from her face.

"For what?" I asked.

Her eyes got big and she said, "Davey, I," and she stopped, looking for the word, "I pooped," she finished.

"And?" I asked.

"And?" she asked back.

I grinned and said, "How many times do have to tell you, good sex, and what we just did was far beyond just GOOD sex, is often messy but never dirty."

"But," she started and I silenced her with a fingertip to her lips.

"No buts," I said, "no apologies necessary. Hell," and I chuckled, "I take it as a compliment that I got you going like that."

When she didn't say anything I rolled onto my back and laced my hands behind my head.

"The traditional way," I started, trying my best to sound pedantic, "to clean your partner after anal sex is with your mouth and tongue."

I paused for dramatic effect.

"But since this is your first time I'll accept a washcloth," I finished.

She rolled up onto her side, propped her chin on her palm, and flashed that predatory grin she could manage sometimes.

She kissed me, her tongue probing, deliberately tracing the inside of my lips.

She flashed the grin again and squirmed around, got her leg across me, and settled into the classic 69 position with her on top. As she took me into her mouth, her tongue licking and her mouth sucking, she settled her pussy, dripping her love nectar a big, onto my mouth.

I sucked gently and wasn't surprised when I felt a tension in her body and then the hard pressure of her cervix against my lips.

I was surprised to feel myself getting hard again as I sucked on her core.

Once again, time just stopped. I have no idea how long that mutual oral sex lasted. She was flowing and I could feel her thick nectar running down my cheeks, and she was taking me along like I didn't think possible just a few minutes after I had ejaculated.

She was cumming in waves, not the hard orgasm and squirting, but almost gentle waves, flowing, the pleasure gentle rather than immediate, and I drank her pleasure like it was the best southern sweet tea in the world.

When I came it was an odd combination of pleasure and pain. I swear I could feel my prostate cramp as my body was satisfied as it had never been before.

She released me then, carefully licking my pubic hair for a few more minutes, cleaning me I suppose, but mostly sharing this moment of intimacy. By then I was beyond really thinking much.

She moved around again, snuggling against me, our lips touching, the faintly earthy smell telling me I had been plenty messy myself.

We kissed, tiny little kisses and she said, very softly, "thank you, David."

I brushed my hand along her hips and said, "Thank you, Edna."

We were both exhausted.

I'm not sure which of us drifted off first.