We Shall Not See Their Likes Again

"Oh no, Aunt Mary. What do you mean? I have to see Granny, I have to speak to her".

But she was insistent that I couldn't go in and I was to leave straight away. For the first time in my life I saw tears in her eyes as she started to cry. Tough, hard, bullet-proof Aunt Mary was crying. "Just go Mikey, go".

It turned out that Nuala had let the matter of our affair slip to her old 'friend' Sister Agnes. She had told it in strict confidence, but the old bitch nun just couldn't keep it to herself. She just couldn't comprehend that Nuala and my grandmother and Aunt Mary could possibly be happy in their bodies at their age. The Lord and his mother in heaven couldn't possibly tolerate the pleasure and joy we were sharing, so the jealous cow hinted at it obscurely to Father Murphy the parish priest. He doggedly pursued her for more details until eventually he got it all out of her. The smarmy faggot priest in turn had called upon Granny and Mary unannounced, while I was busy across the street pleasuring Nuala. Hence the very sudden change of circumstances.

I only found this out later when Nuala told me. She was deeply ashamed of having revealed our secret and was incredibly apologetic. She too withdrew her affections. The priest had given them an awful hard time about it all and they were faced with weeks of rosaries and confessions. If I could've, I would have fucked up that priest so badly, but of course we were terrified of the clergy back then. I suppose I was lucky that it spread no further in our community and my parents didn't find out. Nevertheless it was a terrible shock for me and I was heartbroken.

My highschool leaving certificate results came out. I exceeded expectations and was to study medicine in Trinity College, the first in the family to go to university. My family was very proud of me. I didn't see Granny and Aunt Mary, but they sent me a card with a cheque which was very welcome. They continued to support me financially through my studies.

Granny died seven years later. I hadn't had any one-to-one contact with her or Aunt Mary from the evening I left their house. We had seen each other at group family events but avoided eye contact. I was still bitter and angry.

I had fucked my way through university. Medical students get a lot of opportunities. Women and men, old and young, giving and receiving, I didn't care. It was empty, meaningless and a lot of fun. I know this sounds boastful but it's true, I was a great lover. I could ride for Ireland. But none of it came anywhere near the pleasures of the summer of 1985.

15 years after Granny's passing away, Nuala has died and I'm living in Dublin, a hospital ENT surgeon, engaged to be married. I get a phonecall out of the blue: Aunt Mary is coming to my hospital for an orthopaedic appointment and could I meet her after work?

We sit in the hospital cafeteria and she tells me all about the aftermath for Granny: about how heartbroken her mother was, how it ruptured her friendship with Nuala, how she was racked with guilt and shame and spent her final years in devout penance and prayer, trying to atone for her sin. I held Mary's hand when she became upset and we both shed a tear. I invited her to stay in my house that evening as my fiance Christine was away.

As soon as she came through the door we embraced like the old lovers we were. Her aged body was much larger than it used to be, and softer. Her breasts were mushy beneath my chest, my hands barely met behind her back. Our kiss was wet and instantly deep. We didn't kiss much back in '85. She usually just barked instructions at me. But now her lips were plump and full. Her tongue was super wet and we explored each other with gusto. She had become more feminine and womanly. She lightly brushed my erection and smiled. "Some things don't change", she giggled.

Our passions rose. "Be careful", she whispered. "My injured hip..."

So I brought her to the bedroom and undressed her slowly and carefully, removing her outer garments and folding them neatly on the bedside chair as I knew she liked. The room was warm. I kissed her neck and caressed her torso with my fingertips. Her belly stood out more than before, and now it sagged down over her panty line. I touched her and squeezed her and she laughed; the firmness was still there. I stroked her feet and mottled calves and saw her varicose veins had returned. Her blue pants came away and her pubes had turned a beautiful silver-grey. When I kissed her lower lips and drew her smell deep into my lungs she brought her head back and sighed.

Her bra was beautiful and huge. I wondered if she had worn it especially, did she know we would sleep together? I struggled with the clasps and we giggled like teenagers. Her tits fell down majestically to the level of her navel. The joy and excitement I felt was almost overwhelming and I couldn't suppress a gasp. I took one in both hands, raised it and kissed it solemnly before doing the same to its partner. The skin was wrinkly and veined but the weight was still there. I fondled and squeezed to get the measure of it. I showered her with compliments and she lapped it up. She had me take off my shirt so we could rub our chests together. We were in ecstasy.

We climbed on the bed and she turned her arse to me. I buried my face in her crack and fondled her massive cheeks. The firmness had gone but the size felt great. "I'll need some pillows", she said.

I gathered three pillows under her hips and fucked her gingerly from behind. I didn't want to cause her pain and I tuned in carefully to any signals of discomfort. We found a soft rhythm that suited us both. We moaned noisily but it wasn't the furious banging we had done back in the day. I wasn't grabbing her shoulders and slamming her hard. This was grown-up and mature..

I came inside her. Afterwards we showered together and I cleaned her down as I had in the old days, wiping her pussy and her ass crack with Christine's facecloth. Everything felt right. Then she opened her pussy for me and I brought her to orgasm orally. She caressed and pulled my hair as I lay between her enormous thighs.

We spent a glorious weekend together in my apartment. She wanted the story of my sex life and was fascinated by the details. She explored Christine's lingerie collection and we played with her vibrator. It was her first time and she was a little scared to begin but took to it pretty fast. On Sunday she helped me tidy the apartment before Christine's return and we kissed farewell. There was closure, and completion.

Christine and I married. Mary came to the wedding and brought a generous gift. She was great fun and everyone loved her. She and Christine got on great. Mary and I danced and we whispered to each other the things we wanted to do together if nobody was watching. It was all good natured. I sent her a dildo for Christmas.

It was another 10 years before we could be intimate again. By then I was a busy father. She was in her mid 80s, in a nursing care home, and had truly aged. Her joints were letting her down. I had visited many times with my wife and children but this time I was on my own. She was in her wheelchair and had dolled herself up. I locked her door and we kissed. She lay on her bed and closed her eyes while I stroked her body. I brought expensive cannabis-infused lube for her old dry pussy and she raised her knees and spread her legs as much as she could to receive the pleasure. Her smile was a wonder as she orgasmed gently.

She lay silently after and I needed to masturbate - I knew she wouldn't mind. As I approached my own orgasm she gestured me to her mouth. I stood as she sat up in the bed and took the knob of my erection in her mouth, licking with her hot coarse tongue. This was the opposite of deep-throating. There was no face-fucking going on here, which I was never so keen on anyway. I stroked her white hair as she stared into my eyes. I held back my thrusts when I came. She was so much better at oral than my wife.

I saw her monthly thereafter. She told the staff I was a doctor so nobody was suspicious. Sometimes we would sit and chat. She loved to hear of my sex-life with Christine: what she liked or didn't like. She loved to have me gently massage cream into her legs. She would gradually open herself for me and I would slowly stroke her pussy while she fell into a super-relaxed state. I spent idyllic Sunday afternoons gazing into her old fanny as the sun streamed in.

Orgasms were beyond her now. As she weakened she liked me to wank off onto her naked chest and she would scoop up the sperm with her fingers and lick it sensually. Ever the tease! She knew what I loved. We joked that my sperm was good for her health. Unfortunately her nipples and breasts became tender as they emptied and flattened and she could only bear the lightest of touches with my massage oil. Pinching and fondling was too much for her. We retained these private intimacies even very close to the end. As she lay bed-ridden with a drip in her arm, she liked to hold my erection in her hand or take my hands down to cover her fanny.

I treasure those memories and I'm forever grateful I could spend those precious times with her before she passed away. I sit here today surrounded by her many friends and loved ones, watching as her casket enters the crematorium. If I could help her have a life well-lived, then I'm truly glad. I wish I could share these thoughts and feelings with my darling wife but it would be a step too far. So I write it here to share with you.

Ní Bheidh A Leithéid Ann Arís, we shall not see their likes again. They were truly unique. I raise a glass of whiskey tonight to you Aunt Mary, to you my beloved Granny and to the giggling Nuala O'Brien. Sláinte my beauties. You taught me well, I'll never forget you.