I knew She was Right Behind Me

Just after I graduated from high school, I developed the toughest, most unbreakable crush on my aunt. She was a flight attendant (stewardess, back then), and she was straight from central casting: glamorous, petite, friendly, confident, and just as sexy as anything I ever saw on the pages of the Playboys that my uncle inexplicably kept around. I always thought, "Save your money, because if I could just see HER nude in real life, I'd never want to see another centerfold." That crush lasted for many years. You'll understand why as this story unfolds.

I remember when I first met her, after my uncle divorced his first wife, a wonderful (and also quite beautiful) English lady. He brought Jonnie (naming girls with cool-sounding boy's names was kind of a thing for awhile) around to meet the family after they were married, and I felt things for her that I didn't really feel for any other female until I was off to college two years later. And the things I felt were almost unbearable. I loved her romantically, I thought of her carnally. I trailed around after her like the lovesick pup I was.

She had to know, and she treated me like a cherished favorite, bestowing small gifts that she got while flying all around the world on her major international airline...and thinking of her adoring nephew while she visited all those exotic places. She constantly made treats for me (her beautiful hands cooked delicious dinners and desserts), poured out smiles like a warm shower over my head, and was free with affectionate contact: kisses on my cheek, holding my hand, tousling my hair, a pat on the back as I would reluctantly be hounded out of the room (when I just wanted to stay wherever she was). Every instance of touch felt like an electric thrill, and it actually started making me feel other things, extremely private things. My body responded in a way that drove me to an obsession for masturbation. Once on a visit to my aunt and uncle's house, I brought myself to orgasm in a small shed behind their house, and yes: she was the image in my mind as I pictured my unattainable fantasy.

My dad had a boat, and when they would come into town during the summer, I just couldn't wait to see her smiling and having a great time in her bikini, jiggling in all the right places as the boat skipped over the lake. She was tanned, toned and athletic without being mannish or in any sense detracting from her breathtaking femininity. One day out on the lake, my uncle had a then-new Polaroid Instamatic camera, and the family were running through a ton of pictures of all of us having fun. Jonnie was play-posing and being silly, twisting and climbing around the seats and hamming it up. My uncle didn't see it (he and my dad had been drinking since lunch, and probably didn't perceive exactly WHAT the camera was capturing), but I didn't miss it when she turned her gorgeous body juuuust a bit too fast and far...and The Best Thing In The World Happened 2.86 feet from the tip of my quivering young cock: one cup turned UP, the other turned DOWN, and there were the those dreamed-of breasts I'd never seen, and they were my Auntie Jonnie's.

Amazing. At eighteen years of age, I had just peaked, as far as I was concerned. No matter what happened for the rest of my life, THAT was about the tippy-toppiest thing I could ever imagine. Just beautiful, and it passed so quickly that I almost moaned out loud that I couldn't preserve the momen...

WAIT A SECOND! Holy SHIT! My uncle was snapping a pic at that moment, and MAYBE, if God loves me, MAYBE he got it. And that picture, emerging RIGHT NOW from the bottom of the camera, is pure gold jacking material. I gotta try to get it. I needed a distraction that would put me next to the camera with everybody else looking somewhere else.

With a half-second to think, my move was to push my sister off the boat. I swear I did.

Grounded for a week; totally worth it. Because it worked. While they circled around to pick her up (totally safe in her ski vest), I grabbed the picture and put it down the front of my trunks (I almost came from the very thought of where it was resting). Nobody remembered the picture even existed after they got over the shock, checking to see if my sister was alright (I knew she would be), and started yelling at me.

All of that was to tell the good part, which begins here.

So, I'm confined to my bedroom and the hallway bathroom for a week. Well, who cares? That's where I most WANTED to be: alone with my treasure, and lemme tell ya...that picture was GREAT. Not blurry, perfectly centered, and glowing white titties contrasted perfectly against the tanned torso. Hips cocked out to the side like a Vegas showgirl, tiny triangle of a bikini line like a wedge of cherry pie, smiling with her blonde hair whipping around like Norma Jean. So dam' HOT.

So, I'm on restriction while the rest of the family goes about their Summer o' Fun. Well, good riddance: I needed the alone time. I watched them head out the next morning from the front window to wherever the hell they were going...and I got ready to make solo-love to the object of my affection, as soon as they're out of the driveway.

I got all set: towel, a dab of KY, and that picture, and we are off to the races. I'm lying on my bed (the headboard is toward the door), pants off, left hand gripping my best friend and leader (my rock-hard dick, that is), and the priceless portrait of the finest of female forms in my right. I'm moaning and saying "I love you, Jonnie", as I swirled pre-cum all over the throbbing pale purple head. I am really into it; it feels great, and she looks fantastic in the picture. I'm blissing out.

And then...I smelled her perfume. She always wore Shalimar, and to this day when I smell it, I get hard, just from the evocative power of her scent. So, in a flash, I know...I've been busted. Somehow, she didn't get in the car that I watched drive away six minutes ago. She's HERE, in this room, which is so small that if she's an inch inside my bedroom door, she is standing 2.86 feet from the top of my head. She can see my cock and what I'm doing with it; she can see the towel and guess what it's for. But the crowning, thundering, majestically soaring skyrocket of utterly devastating nuclear shame is...she can see that picture, and she heard me saying her name.

Why can't the Earth just crack open and swallow you whole when you need it? Because I was SO frozen, SO immobilized, that is the only thing that could've happened to snuff out my young life, and that is what I so fervently wished for at that moment.

But something ELSE happened: I heard the faintest click of what had to be a belt buckle. Followed by the stealthy, almost-unheard release of a pants button. And then, a tooth-by-tooth almost-silent slow-lowering zipper.

She was watching me. I knew she was there, she KNEW that I knew she was there. But without a word or even eye contact (I couldn't see her at all, but she could dam' well see ME, ALL of me), both of us came to an understanding that I was going to make love to myself while I looked at her picture, and she was going to make love to herself while she looked at me looking at her picture.

And so we did. We kept up the fiction that I didn't know she was watching, which made me crazy horny, even more than I was fifteen seconds ago. I could just barely hear her breathing, and she was trying to not move her feet. But I could hear her fingers go into her pants, and I could hear her pussy was getting very wet as I stroked my cock. She was so close we could have used her hand instead of mine.

There was no point in hiding anything about my feelings now, so I went back to calling her name; I described my fantasy of coming all over her body, and as I paused to let out a long moan and growl, I heard her catch her breath. And again. She was coming. She came watching me stroke my dick to her bare breasts, and knowing her nephew was completely love-drunk for his sexy auntie.

I lost it. I brought my hips off the bed and fired four long ropes of white hot semen up my chest, and I just kept stroking. At eighteen, I'd never been that turned on, and I knew I could come again, and it wouldn't take long. She was literally standing almost on top of me, looking right down the bridge of my nose, across my come-streaked chest, at her bare-breasted picture that I had practically committed assault and battery against my own sister to get (which I know she had figured out what that was all about now), at my throbbing, twitching, wet cock...and I was stroking it to another blinding ecstatic culmination of pleasure. It was the very hottest thing that I've ever experienced, and that was 36 years ago, and I've been a swinger for 16 of those.

I know it was hot for her, too. Because it wasn't the last time. We did the exact same thing the next night, after we made sure we wouldn't be caught. No words, same as before. But more overt this time. I could hear her come HARD and she made the tiniest ah-ah-ah-ahhhhh sound. She LIKED that I knew she was there, watching me, and it turned HER on to know that this turned ME on. We fed each other's Naughty Need, and no harm done.

The next year, we did it again, this time, in adjoining hotel rooms. I left the pass-through door between the rooms unlocked, and when I heard the handle turn, I quickly flipped over on the couch I had strategically placed end-on toward that door, and got down to cases with my favorite picture.

She's passed on now, but before she went down to cancer, she divided up all her things (my uncle went first), and sent them to various relatives across the world. I got a pair of boxes from her. One was full of mementos of her days as the glam-child hot stewardess, my uncle's coin collection, and a pistol I had always admired. The other was a box of family pictures with a simple note saying she always loved me and knew I would be a fine man for a lucky woman, with a post-script that said "I know you were always fond of family pictures" with a stylized hand-drawing of a heart that looked a lot like a pair of breasts, but not unless you were inclined to see it that way. It was like a coded message that only she and I had the key to decipher.

All of that was perfectly true. It happened, and I'm so glad it did.