Aunt Fran

When Dauntless Doug, single-handed, brought the Japs to their knees and waded ashore in Tokyo Bay, the war was over.

Now it was spring 1946. I was discharged from the Army Air Corps and a member in good standing of the 52-20 club, a program that paid vets twenty dollars a week for a year if they couldn't find employment. There were jobs around in our small town of four thousand people but I had the brilliant ideas about writing a novel before I settled down to the old grind.

I got into the habit of walking the five blocks up town to a nice little bar where I inbibed in a few beers, chatted with the lady behind the bar, then came home. I usually went up to the little den I had fixed up in the room behind my bed room. Here I had my books, an old easy chair and a desk to hold my one luxury, a Smith Corona, portable typewriter.

Usually arriving home frustrated, mildly inebriated, and horny, I dropped my pants and settled myself in that old reclining chair with the broad arms to exercize my Mr. Happy until he spurted. Then I went down to supper.

This afternoon, as happened at least twice a week, old Min Trout had stopped by to play Canasta with Aunt. I teased around with old Min for a few minutes, promising to smack her butt on her birthday, next month. Then I went up stairs to play pal to my perky pecker.

Below, I heard the murmur of voices from the women playing cards in the kitchen. Their voices wafted up through the register that looked down on them. I kicked off my shoes, crossed to my chair, shoved down my pants and shorts to free my stiff cock. It stood throbbing and bobbing toward my navel. I sat on the cool leather which caressed my warm ass cheeks. I lay back and hooked one leg over each arm to spread them wide.

Now, there was no hurry. I reached down and found an old copy of Sunshine and Health I had hidden among other magazines and found the full page picture of my favorite naked lady, a thin older woman with a fabulously hairy bush. It amazed me that that little woman could sprout so much foliage down there. My staff throbbed to full attention. Both hands moved to my crotch. The fingers of my left hand cupped and caressed my balls. I shivered and cradled then gently. Sometimes, if I was patient, I could come just from gently manipulating my hairy balls and never stroke the shaft at all.

I was so wrapped up in what I was doing I tuned out what was going on below. While I heard Min's loud voice, I was too involved in my own fantasy and feeling too good manipulating my testicals to listen to what she was saying. I was having a few imaginative thoughts of my own about old Min that had nothing to with the card game going on below.

I fantasised about all the curly hair, probably gray, she hid between those scrawny thighs. I imaginged plain, long drawers down to her knees and pale ass cheeks that had never seen the sun. Old Min Trout was old when I first saw her seventeen years ago. Though her face was lined with wrinkles and she appeared to be skinny as a rail beneath her long, baggy skirts that only disclosed thin ankles hidden beneath cotton stockings. Now, in my mind, there were no clothes, no thin ankles, no wrinkles. I concentrated on a full thatch of crinkly hair I could only imagine. I pictured my hand between old Min's legs and ticking her dripping pussy, perhaps the middle finger pluming her ancient depths.

My excitement grew as I stroked my veined cock rising magestically agains my belly . I was lost in my world of hand fuck, making believe Min was eager to service a young man like me. My hand slid up and down my joint, moving the foreskin up and over the swollen, purplish-red crown,then quickly retracting it. Jerking off is aptly named. Jerking off is the most fun any man or boy can create by himself. I was in my own time zone, my own world of fisting. Finally, I could postpone the crisis no longer. I speeded my stroke. My hand became a blur. I felt it start somewhere behind my clenched ass hole. My legs stiffened, my butt, without volition, rose from the sweaty leather seat and my body arched, straining and suspended, between shoulders and legs on the chair arms. My throbbing cock pointed skyward.

My eyes closed tight for the last few strokes as I imagined old Min begging for more. I squeezed my bursting cock in both hands and pounded my top fist against the lower one. God! It was so good I could barely stand it. My labored breathing rasped faster.

My scrotum tightened. My balls tightened and rose until they almost disappeared up into my body. I tensed, strained, froze.

The first spurt landed high on my chest. The second hit just above my navel. I spurted slick, white stuff until a glistening pool formed on around the top of my encircling fist.

I counted the throbs under my breath. ONE. . . TWO . . . THREE. . . FOUR . . .FIVE. I had reached SIX when I heard a startled gasp. Aunt stood in the doorway, a cupped hand at her open mouth, eyes watching my throbing seven inches spurt my life force from the slit in the purplish head.

My legs slipped from the chair arms. I tried to cover my diminishing erection with my hands.

It was a loud whisper, but Aunt spat it out, "Filthy boy!" She turned and left.

Moments later I heard her footsteps descending the stairs.

My heart thundered in my chest. I fought for breath. To my shattering climax was added the shock of being discovered. Aunt would call it self abuse. I cleaned up the mess on my hand and on my belly and pulled up my pants. I sat a while trying to collect my wits.. I had no Idea what Aunt would say when I went downstairs. To my knowledge, she had not seen me naked since I had entered puberty. I had spied on her once when I was nine or ten when she was about to climb into the bathtub. I knew she had a thick patch of light brown hair down there and what, at the time, I thought were tremendously large buttocks and thick, pale white thighs. She would have beaten me to within an inch of my life had she known I had seen her. Aunt was a terrible prude when it came to nudity.

Though I was now an adult, a veteran home from the war, I dreaded going downstairs to face her.

Aunt was busily, too busily, placing food on the table. She wiped at her eyes and did not speak.

"You should not have walked in on me," I said. "I am entitled to my privacy."

"I never realized. . ." Her voice choked. "I didn't think my boy would do such a nasty thing in this house."

"Most people do it."

"The terrible things you learned in the army. They took my innoceent boy and. . ." She set the mashed potatoes on the table and threw up her hands in an effort to say what she could not say.

"It's not something I learned in the army."

"You're like a different person." Her shoulders sagged. "I never thought you would turn out like this."

"I damn sure never learned anything about sex in this house, at least not from you."

"Your supper is getting cold." Aunt sat at the table and I pulled out the chair oposite her. We did not say grace. We never did.

"It happened. It's over," I said.

"I'll never go near that room again, I promise." Aunt's voice quivered.

"Good."

We ate in silence.

Later I quietly dried while she washed the dishes amid a deafening stillness.

As she passed me, leaving the kitchen, I gave her a smack on her fat butt as I occasionally did to tease her because I knew she did not care for the familiarity. She stopped dead in her tracks, for a moment as though she were going to say something, but she moved on, through the living room and went up the steps to her room though it was barely eight o'clock.

*** There remained a coolness between us. The next few days I kept my pecker in my pants. But there came a day when nature gave me a hard-on that would not go away. I came home from the bar with a few beers under my belt. Went directly to my room and did the dirty deed with dispatch although the image of old Min's hairy crotch filled my fantasy as I throbbed out a self-induced ecstasy.

Downstairs, Aunt and Old Min semed busier gossiping than playing Canasta. Min's raspy voice and Aunt's softer one drifted up through the venilator.

"Now don't be getting yourself in a dither," cautioned Min "He was just doing what comes natural.

"He was doing nasty things to himself," breathed Aunt.

"You caught the boy doodling his dick." hooted Min. "That's all."

"Abusing himself," corrected Aunt. "I never called it what you just said. I said he was was doing nasty things with his member." said Aunt.

"Jack was pulling, his pud," giggled Min. "That's what he was doing."

"It ain't natural," said Aunt. "Not to mention being a dirty, filthy act against nature."

"The boy was just playing a few scales on his meat flute," giggled Min. "Men get them hard feelings and they got to do what comes natural."

"Nasty is what it was," said Aunt.

" Sheeit," cackled Min, "I reckon we've all tickled ours a time or two."

"Well I'm sure I never. . ."

"Of course you never, Hon," soothed Min as she licked her lips.

"I can't help getting upset. Seeing him practically naked, and doing that to himself."

"Jack was a doing what comes natural. A man has got that thang a danging tween his legs, sometimes it gets upity and rambunctious. He's got to take a hand to it ."

"So nasty," said Aunt.

"Now don't be too hard on the boy," cautioned Min, trying to soothe Aunt's feelings. "Jack was just being Jack."

"His thing was so big and angry looking," said Aunt.

"Never found one to look that way," said Min. "I always took a hard one as a compliment."

"Nasty as it was," confessed Aunt, "I swear I couldn't look away. Like I was hypnotized. Does that make me a sinner?"

"Whooee" exhaled Min. "I'd a give anything to have seen what you seen."

"Monsterous is what it was," said Aunt. "Course I never saw but one other and that was my husband's . He was not a big man over all but down there he was too big for me. I hated what he done to me."

"Poor you," sympathized Min. "Now me, I enjoyed every solid inch of old Harm's dong, and he fed it to me on a nightly basis."

"You're talking filthy," accused Aunt."

"Talking truth," said Min.

"You're telling me he put it to you every night," Aunt asked in awe. "How on earth could you stand it?"

"Sometimes I stood, sometimes I got on my knees, sometimes I just laid oback and spread my legs," cackled Min. "Then again, sometimes I just bent over and let him do me from the rear."

"That's terrible," gasped Aunt.

It sounded like Min was licking her lips. "Harm knew how to make my old pussy purr, that's for sure."

"Good God. The nasty things you blurt out."

"Ain't nobody to hear but us horny old bitches," said Min.

"I am not," said Aunt, "a bitch, or as you say horny."

"Then stop acting like one and admit that seeing that boy get his rocks off gave you more than a little twitch in your twat."

"Did not." I thought I detected a slight giggle before Aunt choked it off.

Min grunted. "You said it was all covered with veins that seemed to be throbbing?"

"And that thick stuff spurted out like I couldn't believe."

"Really popped a load," said Min. She cleared her throat. "Well come on. Are we playing cards or not?"

"So go on and deal," said Aunt, "You're holding the deck."

I heard the cards hitting the table as Min dealt rapidly. "So young Jack has got a big one, has he?" giggled Min. "I'd rock naked on my front porch to see that.

I lay back in my chair and slowly stroked my erection. It seemed old Min was as interested in what I carried between my legs as I was about what she hid between hers. I imagined her with her skirts thrown up over her back and her scrawny bare ass pressed against my pubes as I rammed seven inches of solid cock up her hair ringed hole. I came in no time.

*** Occasionally, I sat in for a few hands of Canasta with Aunt and Old Min Trout. This afternoon, I was pretty sure Min was cheatting.

I closed my hand over the old womans bony fingers. "I'm begining to smell something fishy."

"Hope it ain't me," cackled Min. I washed it along with the rest of me, Saturday night."

"Mrs. Trout," gasped Aunt, "You shouldn't talk like that in front of the boy."

"Now Jack's no boy. He a growed man that fought his share in a man's war and I reckon he knows a when an old woman's joshing him." She leaned over and clasped those talon-like fingers on my knee. "Ain't that right, Jack?"

"Just the same..." said Aunt, "it's not fit talk."

"I'm twenty-one," I said.

"And I reckon you been further around the world," said Min., "than us old folks has been around the bed looking for the piss pot."

"Such language," gasped Aunt.

"Heard worse," I said. "I've heard thiings you've never dreamed of."

"I'd doubt that," said Min.

"Well, don't be spouting them around here," said Aunt. "Min. Now hurry up and deal."

***

Another day I came home early and slipped upstairs. I heard the women talking in the kitchen. I took off my shoes and went in to my little den and went to the gratting where I heard the Min and Aunt in serious conversation.

"Speaking of boners," said Min casually, as she shuffled the Canasta Deck, "you had anymore sightings of Jack's working out the big one?"

"Good Lord!" sighed Aunt. "Once was enought for these tired old eyes."

Min snorted. "Har! Reckon if I saw it once I'd be hankering for another viewing."

"Since Jack come home, I been having nasty thoughts and nasty feelings down there," said Aunt. "I feel so ashamed of myself."

"I reckon you got a thrill or two coming in your life. From my way of thinking, you ain't had many.

Aunt shuddered. "I can't get the sight of him out of my mind. Especially since I told you about it. Sometimes" she confessed, "when that boy teases me by smacking my backside, I get moist down there. In all my born born I never had those feelings so strong."

"Aw Hon, you got to know that's your old pussy weeping for attention."

Min let her hand drop to Aunt's thigh. "Sheeit, Hon, such feelings is normal in a woman. Everbody gits 'em or ought to."

"They happen, sometimes, when we're doing our nasty talking like we are now."

"It's not nasty," insisted Min, "We're doing some straight from the shoulder, honest talk. I got to admit I wouldn't mind having a real, honest -o-god-boner put to me one just more time."

"Good Lord! How you talk," gasped Aunt. "And at your age."

"Age has got nothing to do with it," declared Min. "If I was to get a glimpse of his thang, I'd go after it gums and tongue."

"That's a terrible thing to say!"

"Meant every word. I got to tell you it's been some time since a man had me on my back." Min winked at Aunt. "Now you already admitted that thinking about Jack's thang has give you the weeps down below. I reckon I'd be wanting some if I was to get a glimpse of it."

"..Why. . .Why. . . I raised that boy. He's like a son to me. That would be just terrible."

"A good solid boning would do both us old gals a world of good."

"Disgusting," breathed Aunt."

"Put a little color in your bottom cheeks," declared Min.

Aunt was speechless.

"If it was up to me," declared the old woman, "I'd be giving that boy all the nooky he could handle."

Aunt shook her head. "I'm seventy-two years old. I haven't had relations with a man in nearly twenty years and glad of it."

"About time you got something stiff rammed up your cooze," said Min. "Clean out your pipes. Stoke the fire before it goes out completely."

"Never had much fire," confessed Aunt. "Having a man on top of me never cut it."

"Bet Jack could give you a good poking," teased Min.

"You're getting me all upset," said Aunt. "You're making me feel strange in places that never felt much."

"Har!" said Min, "I've had a moist crack of my own since the subject of the boy's boner came up."

"Comes from unhealthy thinking." declared Aunt.

"Makes for some fine screwing," said Min. "Tones up the system, puts spring in your ass."

"That don't seen natural to me."

"Hon," said Min, "You got to tiddle your wink ever once in a while to keep it in trim."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Min squeezed Aunt's thigh a little harder. "What you got to do is scratch what itches. Rub where it does the most good."

"Are saying I should abuse myself?"

"I talking about tickling that place any way that feels good. You got to exercize yours like your boy exercizes his."

I couldn't," said Aunt."

*** When I got home, I went to the bathroon and washed up and unloaded some of the beer I had consumed earlier. I flushed the toilet and went downstairs.

"I didn't know you were home," said Aunt. "until I heard the toilet flush." She looked a little flushed, herself.

"Just came in."

"Been drinking beer?" asked Min.

I nodded. "You know how it is. Drink one pee two."

"Jack! That's no way to talk before company," said Aunt.

"Hell!" I'm not company," said Min. "I'm a neighbor that just dropped in. If Jack wants to say pee instead of piss I reckon he can spit it out in his own home."

Aunt shook her head at Min.

"I reckon the boy's got the hose for it, when he's got to go." Old Min nodded her head at Aunt. "You and me, we got to squat to drain ours."

"Such talk should not be going on in front of a young man," insisted Aunt.

"Lighting the load is something we all got to do," said Min. She stood and turned to go. "Well, I best git to gitten." She bent to pick up a heavy stack of magazines. "I thank you for the reading material."

"Jack," said Aunt. "Those are too heavy for Mrs. Trout. "Why don't you carry them up the hill for her. Wouldn't take you a minute."

"Be happy to."

"You needn't mind," said Min. "I can handle them."

I took the load from her. "Too heavy for a young lady like you," I said.

"Har, har," roared Min. "They don't come much older than me."

I smacked her small, solid backside that hid under her voluminous skirt. "Move on."

"Jack!" shouted Aunt. "You don't take such liberties with a lady."

"Only on my birthday," tittered Min. "Ain't got spanked on my birthday in many a year."

"When is it," I asked.

"Jack," warned Aunt.

"Oh c'mon," said Min. "Jack's just being Jack. No harm done."

"A boy should respect his elders," said Aunt. "Now stop it."

"Now he'd just funning," said Min. "Jack's just beingJack. He's a grown man."

"He'll always be a boy to me," defended Aunt. "And that's no way to talk in front of him."

"Jack's no boy," said Min. "Jack went off and fought a war to save your ass and mine."

"Just the same," continued Aunt as we went out the front door, "He shouldn't be going around smacking older ladies bottoms."

Min and I went down the steps and turned to go up the hill to the little yellow house on the other side of the street. "Your Aunt Fran gets all upset over nothing," said Min.

"She's prety much of a prude," I agreed.

"She don't understand that a young man likes cop a feel any time he can."

"I'm that obvious."

"What I'm saying is, it's human nature."

The birdlike, old woman set the pace and I took longer strides to keep up with her. "You didn't mind?"

"What's one more hand patting on this old butt. I reckon there's been several over the years."

"Do I have to wait for your birthday for another shot," I asked. "Do I get a smack for each year.

"Sheeeit!" roared Min, "if you was to give me smack for every year, my nether cheeks would be redder than a rosy red apple and tingling like all get out."

"It'd be rosier than that if was on your bare bottom."

"Har de har," cackled Min.

"It would make a lot more noise too," I added.

"You got a point. Min laughed. "But it ain't gonna happen and Ithese are two old cheeks you ain't about see."

I took the plunge. "I'd like a shot at them."

The old woman put her head back and cackled, right out in the middle of the street. She clutched my arm. "Good Gar, young man, You do come out with it, don't you?"