No Flying Tonight Ch. 13-14

She continued to talk, trying to explain what she thought had caused the change in his uncle's behaviour and looking for sources other than his experiences at Dunkirk.

"Maybe it's was me; perhaps my body didn't attract him anymore. I know my body isn't what it used to be. He used to love my breasts; he would play with them and suck the nipples for ages before we made love. I know they've become droopy, but what could he expect? It's just a matter of time. I know my bottom is larger than when I was a girl. Perhaps he couldn't bear making love to an old woman."

Jack looked at her. It was true that her tits were not pert like Jane's and her bottom was on the large side, but she wasn't that old and her face was attractive.

He stroked her hair again and she moved her head against his cock which, by now, was iron hard. He was sure she must have felt it. She moved her head again, rubbing slowly and almost deliberately down and then back along the length of his manhood. She lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes. She was no longer crying, although her eyes were still red and he could still see the marks of tears on her cheek. She smiled and said,

"Well, it would appear somebody finds me attractive - even if it is my nephew."

"You are attractive. It felt really good taking you out tonight. In fact I would have wanted to take you out even if you hadn't been my auntie."

"I won't believe you until you repeat it in the cold light of day. And now I'm going to bed."

He wanted to reply, to keep flirting with her, but knew her decision was final.

"Good night...... Susan."

She laughed. "Good night, Jack."

The next day was unseasonably warm, even for late August, with the temperature in the high seventies. His aunt spent the morning in town, changing her library books and doing some shopping, while he sat in the garden, read the Manchester Guardian and tried to do the cross-word. It was obvious he needed some practice.

After lunch his aunt disappeared into the garden. He looked at his watch and decided, having been defeated by the crossword, he would drown his sorrows at the pub. Most of his contemporaries were in the forces but, it was just possible, someone he knew would be home on leave.

The pub was quiet with three men, all over sixty, in the snug and five, mostly middle-aged men, in the bar. He knew two of the men in the bar by sight, one of them was the father of a school friend and the other, a local football referee. As he approached the bar the landlady appeared. Her husband had been a member of an army reserve unit and had been called up early in the war. She was in her early thirties and according to local gossip, well-known for playing away.

"Why, if it isn't Jack Lindsay returned from the war. What can I tempt you with, Jack?" Somehow or other she usually managed to inject a sexual connotation into the simplest of remarks.

He looked at her; the blouse she was wearing just about covered her tits and her skirt was so tight he wondered how she managed to pick up a bottle of stout from the bottom shelf. He compared her with Sophie and then his aunt. Blonde, buxom and short she was nothing like Sophie; she did, however, have something in common with his aunt – her tits – well, his aunt's tits as he envisioned them.

"I'll have a pint please, Sally - and one for yourself."

"Thank you Jack, I'll have a port and lemon."

Four pints later it was closing time and the landlady was starting to look appealing.

"Come on gentlemen, let's be having you."

She can have me anytime she likes, he thought.

Reluctantly he left the pub and walked home, travelling slowly and carefully along the footpath, through the churchyard and back onto the footpath to his home. When he arrived home the house was quiet with his aunt nowhere to be seen, either in the house or in the garden. He wasn't worried as she often went next door or disappeared into the shed.

Still looking for her he walked down to the shed. Half potting shed and half greenhouse, it stood at the bottom of the garden and, along with three, eight foot high, leylandii hedges, surrounded and protected from the elements a small vegetable garden. When he was a child he had used the shed as a keep and the hedging as the walls of a castle, with the only entry a small gap between the shed and the hedge running along the rear border of the garden.

He went into the shed. It was empty. He was just about to go back to the house when he looked into garden. His aunt was there, apparently asleep, on an American style lounger working on her sun tan and with the exception of a small towel draped across her mound, completely naked. He knew he should look away, but he found it impossible. She was asleep; allowing him to examine her at leisure. He looked at her tits, but as she was lying down and they were drooping over her rib-cage, it was difficult to tell how big or even how firm they were. He would only be able to tell if he could see her standing. He had the same problem with the rest of her body, only this time it was the towel which was covering what Jane used to describe as her 'good bits'. He noticed she was tanned a dark brown and as her tits were also tanned, although not as dark as the rest of her body, this was obviously not the first time she had sunbathed naked.

On the lounger Susan was aware she was being watched and was aware who was watching her. When he had opened the door to the shed, Jack had made enough noise to awaken the dead. She had waited for him to appear and then, through slit eyes, had seen his face at the window. Although she would never have admitted it; after all it was one of the warmest days of the summer and she wanted to work on her tan, she had chosen to sunbathe naked in the hope her nephew would come to look for her.

In the shed Jack had started stroking his cock. It was as hard as it had ever been and starting to be covered in a sticky coating of pre-come. As he wanked, he could visualise his aunt impaled on his cock, her arms around him and urging him on. She couldn't see him wanking but could tell, from the expression on his face, what he was doing and she felt her juices start to flow. When he came she couldn't see his spunk streaking the geranium cuttings in their pots on the corner of the bench, but knew what had happened. Now she wanted him to leave. She was excited and needed her own relief.

Jack returned to the house and slept for the rest of the afternoon and by the time he awoke, his aunt was dressed and ready to serve tea.

"I thought you'd never wake up. Tea will be ready in a minute. It's not much, but it should keep the wolf from the door."

It wasn't much but, once again, it was more than the ration book would provide.

"Pour both of us a glass of sherry will you?"

He wasn't keen on sherry and certainly not after having consumed four pints at lunchtime but to humour her, he poured two glasses; a small one for him and a large one for her. She sat and drank it with him, without saying anything about the disparity in the size of their glasses. When she had finished her glass she lifted it and motioned to him.

"I'd like another one; but just a little one this time." He poured her another, smaller than the first but by no means a little one. She finished it as she made the gravy.

"Jack, tea's ready. Will you take the plates in for me?"

They sat down at the table and started their meal. She had made soup and cooked two chops and an assortment of vegetables. Better food than the mess, Jack thought, but nothing like the food in Canada.

Halfway through the soup she said to him,

"I know what I've forgotten. I managed to find a bottle of wine at Payne's. Will you open it for me?"

It was a red; only a 'vin ordinaire' and not a Medoc, but, nonetheless, enjoyable.

Jack drank sparingly as he was still slightly hung over. By the end of the meal his aunt had drunk three glasses to his one and was becoming tipsy. They shared the last glass and retreated to the living room, where they sat in silence until they finished their drinks.

She looked at Jack. Although he was her nephew and she was biased, he was handsome and, from what she had discovered last night, well built.....in all the right places.

"Jack, forgive me for yesterday I shouldn't have burdened you with my problems. I'm sure I will work it out."

She knew it wasn't true, but needed to convince herself. Jack knew it wasn't true and wanted to find some way of re-assuring her.

"Susan, whatever caused uncle to do what he did, I can assure you he was totally wrong if he thought you weren't attractive. You look wonderful. I just can't see why he didn't want you. Women do change as they get older, but that's to be expected."

As he said it had a sudden image of Sophie naked lying on her bed.

"From what I can tell you're still desirable."

He blushed when he said it; causing his aunt to laugh. She knew he was referring to the show he had been given that afternoon, but was too embarrassed to tell her what he'd seen.

"What makes you think I'm desirable? What evidence do you have that makes you think any of me is desirable?"

She was pushing him to admit to seeing her naked.

"As I told you my breasts have drooped and my bum is definitely larger than when I was at school. Who would be interested in me?"

Her last statement was a direct provocation and Jack felt he had to answer.

"Susan, I'm know you're wrong; although I agree, without evidence, it's merely a matter of conjecture."

He had transferred the onus to her and had left her knowing her next move would define the nature of their relationship. She looked at him and made her choice; a decision which, six drinks earlier, she would probably have rejected out of hand.

"Jack, I know that you saw me sunbathing in the nude this afternoon. Surely that is enough evidence."

He blushed again. So she knew but, apparently, didn't seem concerned.

"I did; but you can't blame me for looking."

"Anything I can blame you for?"

She had seen him wanking.

"Don't worry Jack, I didn't mind. In fact it made me feel wanted, which is something I haven't felt for a long time."

She was forgiving him. He decided to take advantage of the situation.

"Well, I have to say it wasn't in the nude; more like half-nude."

She laughed. He was cheeky bugger, but it was true; her towel had been strategically placed.

"All right Jack, you don't have to spell it out to me. I know you want another chance to see your aged aunt in the altogether. Well, it must be your lucky day. You're going to get your chance to do a proper evaluation of all I have to offer; but that's all – no touching."

She stood up and, without looking at him, started to remove her blouse. It buttoned all the way up the front, but the mother-of-pearl buttons were small and combined with her trembling hands, progress was very slow. He watched; willing her on, his cock growing even harder. When she finally succeeded he waited for her to undo her brassiere but was disappointed when she reached down and undid the four buttons which held her skirt. The buttons undone, she slipped it down her legs and stepped out of it. For the first time since she had started her strip-tease she looked at him and paused; this was it she thought, I either do it, or we go back to being just aunt and nephew.

She reached behind her and undid the hooks and eyes which held her bra together. She shrugged her shoulders and let the straps slip off and as it did, she caught it with her arms; hiding most of her tits. He reached out and pulled her arms to the side, allowing her bra to fall and exposing her tits. She looked at him as if seeking his approval.

"They are beautiful. I couldn't tell how big they were the last time I saw them as they were flopping over you ribs, but they are truly beautiful."

His joking reference to her tits 'flopping over her ribs, started to put her at ease. Exposing her breasts hadn't really been traumatic, but if she was going to provide the evidence he had asked for and she had promised, it would require her to show him her most intimate parts. It had been easy that afternoon as she had had a towel over them and he had been a voyeur but, this time, there would be no towel and she was going to be an exhibitionist. Once again the drink gave her resolve; he had seen her naked that afternoon and exposing herself once more, shouldn't be a problem.

She reached down to her knickers. They weren't young girls knickers such as Jane often wore, silk and short, on the other hand, they weren't old ladies' bloomers, but looked similar to those Sophie had worn. Slowly, even provocatively, she removed them and stood facing him, her arms at her side, self-conscious, but meeting his gaze. For some, irrational reason he had imagined her bush would be grey and the night before, while wanking, had even imagined her standing, naked, with grey hairs peeping around her hand, in almost the same pose Jane had adopted when she stripped for him. This time he had remembered the name of the picture; it was Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus'.

He started a leisurely examination of her body. On closer examination he thought her tits were, at least, a cup size larger and appeared to droop more than his mother's and were, definitely, much larger and droopier than Sophie's. Once again he noticed her body was completely brown and wondered when, where and if she had sunbathed in the nude before she came to stay with his parents.

"Well, what do you think? What do you really think about my breasts?"

"For an old lady; not bad."

She frowned and put her arms over her tits. He understood immediately that there was a fine line between acceptable and unacceptable teasing and this wasn't the time to push the boundaries.

"I told you, they're wonderful. For someone your age, they don't sag very much."

She laughed at his faux pas and his fumbled attempt at a recovery.

"And just how much should they sag at my age... and, more to the point, how would you know?"

She knew he would have trouble articulating his reasons, but wanted to get her own back and poke a little fun at him.

Jack tried to find a non-incriminating answer but couldn't. The only option he could think of was to tell the truth, if only partially, and to embellish it with mild flattery.

"Susan, I've no preference. I have to admit I like breasts, whatever the size and however much they droop, and large nipples – and your nipples are magnificent."

She looked down and smiled, her nipples were erect and indicators of her excitement.

"Aren't my breasts magnificent, too?"

"Of course. I chose to mention the nipples because they are so inviting, so suckable, but it was no reflection on your breasts."

She blushed slightly. She had seen him masturbating at the sight of her body but she had not expected him to admit, so readily, to lusting after it. The thought of him wanting to suckle her was exciting and was making her cunt moist. Absentmindedly she reached for it and rested her hand on her mound - if he hadn't been here she would have played with herself.

"Jack, I'm sure you're just being nice to me; surely you would prefer them to be firmer; just like your girlfriends."

He knew she was probing, but he refused to be drawn.

"Susan, I've already told you that I have no preferences, or dislikes for that matter, when it comes to breasts. I love your breasts and, with your permission, I would like to touch them."

He looked at her and could see she was wavering and that her admonition to him 'not to touch' was more of an opening gambit than a line in the sand. Without waiting for her answer, he stood up and moved towards her, bent down, and took her left nipple in his mouth. Although it not as long as Jane's, the nipple was large, erect and suckable and an open invitation to his lips. She had wanted to stop him but, when she felt his lips tease the end of the nipple, she merely gasped and did nothing. He sucked and played with her nipples for almost half a minute before she finally signalled her acquiescence by putting her arms around him and stroking his hair.

"That's lovely, Jack. You don't know how much I've missed someone playing with my breasts. You can't believe how good it makes me feel."

He nipped her left nipple gently and she gasped once again, but didn't withdraw it. Emboldened, he stopped sucking and started to play with her nipples; at first using his mouth and then with his fingers; twisting and pulling them such that they stretched and stood proud from her tits. He loved doing this, he'd done it to both Jane and Sophie and they'd both liked it, Jane more and Sophie less, and now he was doing it to his aunt.

She liked it. She had always known, from the first time she had squeezed her nipples while playing with herself, that she was sexually excited by pain. She often abused her nipples and had done it more often since she and her, now dead, husband had stopped having sex; but the feeling her nephew was giving her was exquisite. She could feel her cunt starting to fill with her come, her 'juices' as she and her husband had called them, and clamped her thighs together, as if trying to stop them dripping on to her leg. She hadn't felt as good as this for ages.

"Jack, this is not fair - you can see me but I can't see you. You have to get undressed."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Come on; less talking and more doing"

It took him less than fifteen seconds to get undressed, leaving his clothes strewn around the room. It was her turn to appraise him. She looked, trying to take in all of him, but couldn't - she was totally mesmerized by his cock. It would appear, she thought, based on what his mother had told her in an unusual moment of candour, that he takes after his father, although I'll bet he's a bit bigger – and, if he isn't, my sister is a lucky woman. One thing is for sure, he's inherited his father's other characteristic - it bends like a banana.

Looking directly at his cock, she whispered,

"Beautiful, you have a beautiful body."

Reaching down she took it in her hands and, again whispering, added,

"and a beautiful cock."

She ran her fingers around the head and then brushed her palm along the underside; running it along the ridge. She grasped it around the base and started to masturbate him. He had stopped playing with her tits and was watching her hand move up and down his cock.

"That's it Susan, just like that, just stroke it."

"Jack, I was a married woman. You don't think this is the first time I've done this do you?"

He didn't know and hadn't thought about it but, based on her performance to date, she was either a quick learner or it wasn't the first time she had done it. Wanking him excited her and she started to breath more rapidly and her cunt started to become even wetter, but since he had stopped playing with her, she needed more than the stimulation afforded by wanking him. Her hand crept down to her cunt and, when it reached its goal, she parted the lips and inserted a single finger, to be followed in quick succession by another. He saw her do it and watched closely. He liked watching women masturbate and loved it when they came. They were all different but they were all exciting.

"Let's go upstairs."

She looked at him. She was starting to come and wanted to finish.

"It's going to be more comfortable."

Once again she was faced with a choice; if they went upstairs, she knew it would, almost certainly, mean they were going to make love - and an incestuous love at that.

She hesitated. She was a far more sexual person than anyone knew and had secretly harboured sexual fantasies which she had never communicated to a third party and certainly not her husband. He had been a considerate lover but conservative. Their sex life had been bland, lacking the thrill of something different; something illicit or risqué. Having sex with your nephew certainly met the illicit criterion but also posed risks of public condemnation. On the other hand it was risqué and for some reason appealing. She reached for her clothes.