For the second time in a little over eight months, I found myself by the side of an open grave in the public cemetery in the town where I have lived for all of the twenty three years of my life. Last time, I was accompanied by my Aunty Joanne, and we were burying her husband, my Uncle Graham. Despite the words that the priest had intoned during the funeral service in church, and again here at the graveside, I wasn't convinced by her promise of an afterlife. One thing I was sure of though was that Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne were together again. Her coffin had been lowered into the grave to rest alongside that of her late husband, and after I'd accepted a handful of earth from the undertaker to drop into the grave, I'd thanked the priest and started the short walk back to the house where I'd lived with Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne ever since my parents had been killed in a car crash eighteen years ago.
I was both upset and confused. Upset because the two people I cared about the most in my life were now both dead. And confused because I had nowhere to go. I wondered what was to become of the house where I'd been so happy. Uncle Graham had been a solicitor, the senior partner in the firm which bore his name. I was convinced that he and Aunty Joanne would have left their affairs in good order, but where did that leave me?
The weather had turned suitably chilly, and as I walked out of the cemetery, a cold rain began to fall. The sky turned markedly darker, and I shivered and drew my long black coat around me to prevent my best suit getting wet as the rain increased. I was about to look for a taxi when a car pulled up beside me. The passenger window slid down and a voice said,
"Alun, I'm so sorry for your loss. Jump in, and I'll take you home. I have some information you need to hear, so you might as well hear it on the way home."
The speaker was Walter Phillips, Uncle Graham's partner in the firm of Thomas & Phillips, Solicitors. Gratefully I got into the car and thanked Walter for the lift home.
"Don't mention it," he replied gruffly. "I shouldn't have been at the funeral, according to what Joanne required in her last will and testament. That's why you didn't see me at the graveside. Joanne stipulated that no-one from the office should attend her funeral and that only you, her adopted son, should be present. So I parked outside the cemetery and waited for you. It wasn't a lack of respect on our part, you see. We were complying with your mother's wishes."
"My mother died eighteen years ago, Walter " I reminded him. "Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne adopted me, but they never thought of themselves as my father and mother. My parents were best friends with them, and so they took over responsibility for bringing me up after mam and dad were killed."
"Well whatever you called them, they're gone now," replied Walter sadly. "I know you've taken some time to come to terms with your loss and we don't expect you back in the office until you're fit and ready to take up your responsibilities again. But I must insist that you attend the reading of Joanne's will. She stipulated that it be done on the day following her funeral, so I'll expect you in the office at ten o'clock tomorrow morning without fail."
"Well, here we are," he continued, pulling off the main road and steering carefully down the tree lined drive that led to the house where I'd lived for the most of my life.
"No thank you," Walter replied in response to my invitation to come in for a drink. "I have to get back to the office. I've left Mrs. Jackson in charge. She's a very efficient office manager, but she's not a solicitor. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late!"
He tooted the car's horn as he executed a smooth three point turn in front of the double fronted house and returned my wave as he made his way back down the drive, to return to the office, where presumably, he was now the sole partner. I let myself into the house and, having put the kettle on to boil, I set about making myself a cup of coffee to try and inject some warmth into my body, which was as cold as ice thanks to both the unseasonal weather and the recent event at the cemetery.
I took my steaming mug of coffee into the sitting room and sat down in the chair that I inevitably used when Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne were at home. Taking a sip of my scalding drink, I closed my eyes and started to recall my life so far.
My parents had been killed in a road traffic accident shortly before my fifth birthday. On the night in question they had been out for dinner with their best friends, two people I knew as Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne. Whilst they were out, my grandmother, my father's mother babysat me. I didn't know it then, but she was soon to become my only living relative.
Gran struggled to bring me up on her own for a few weeks. She was shattered with grief at the death of her beloved son, but she tried her best to give me the attention I craved. I went back to school, but I couldn't settle, and my teacher reported that both my behaviour and my concentration span had both understandably deteriorated. Gran was very concerned, and turned to Uncle Graham for help.
His solution was both simple and effective. He and Aunty Joanne adopted me, and I went to live with them in their huge house on the other side of town. I continued to see Gran regularly, but then I was sent away to school, and it was during my last year of prep school that I was summoned to the Headmaster's study one day.
When I got there I was surprised to see Uncle Graham. I greeted him warmly, but he came bearing sad news. Gran had died in her sleep, and now I truly was alone. I loved Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne, but they were not blood relatives. I felt dreadful.
I was allowed to return home with Uncle Graham to attend Gran's funeral. The day after the service I expected to return to school, but Uncle Graham and Aunty Joanne had news for me.
I was going to go to a new school, one that Uncle Graham himself had attended. It had all been arranged, and the expectation was that I would be taught there until it was time for me to go to University where I would study law and on graduation, I would join Uncle Graham's firm as a junior solicitor.
And that was exactly what happened. My new school was very exclusive, very expensive and very academic. I flourished there. I returned home for the holidays at the end of each term with glowing reports of my progress both in the classroom and on the sports field. My adoptive parents were thrilled, and I was proud to please them.
Then everything changed. I had done my A level exams (Law, French, English and Music) and I'd achieved good enough grades to get into my first choice University. I was at home, school having finished, and I had eight weeks off before I would have to leave to start my Law degree. Uncle Graham had gone into the office and I was alone in the house with Aunty Joanne. I had just celebrated my eighteenth birthday and I will remember what happened next for the rest of my life.
We were sitting at the breakfast table, finishing off our meal. I was wearing the T shirt and shorts that I regularly slept in, and Aunty Joanne had her fluffy bathrobe on. We chatted about what plans I had for the summer, and whether or not I would like to accompany Uncle Graham and her on a holiday in Provence, France, where they had a holiday home.
I'd been taken there several times when I was younger, but I'd chosen to stay at home for a couple of years. This had seemed to disappoint Aunty Joanne in particular, and so when she asked me again, I said that I'd be delighted to accompany her and Uncle Graham for a fortnight of "la vie Française". Aunty Joanne giggled and said, "I love it when you speak French, Alun. You've managed to retain it even though you haven't been with us these past couple of years. Your Uncle and I can just about manage "Bonjour" and "Merci" yet you speak it like a Frenchman! It makes me feel all squishy inside when I hear you!"
I blushed. Luckily, Aunty Joanne was seated opposite me at the breakfast table, so I was able to hide the massive hard-on that her words had provoked. I had been holding a torch for my very pretty, very sexy Aunty for a couple of years now, but out of respect for Uncle Graham I had done nothing about it, unless you counted my daily wank, during which I fantasised about fucking Aunty Joanne.
She reached over to collect my empty cereal bowl and my plate, now just full of toast crumbs. The movement caused her bathrobe to open slightly and I caught a fleeting glimpse of her generously proportioned tits. If anything, my hard-on just got stronger.
"I'll put these in the dishwasher," she smiled. "I'm going shopping once I've cleared up here and dressed. Is there anything I can get you in town?"
"No thanks," I replied, taking advantage of her having turned her back on me to load the dishwasher to get up from the table and hurry out of the kitchen.
"I need to get dressed too," I said as I made my way upstairs to my bedroom.
Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door and quickly stripped off my shorts. I lay down on my bed and took my rampant cock in my hand. It was red hot, throbbing with an intense pulse, and very very hard! I eased my foreskin back, exposing my light purple cock helmet. I could almost see the heat sheen coming off it. Slowly, I began to wank, picturing Aunty Joanne's beautiful tits. My head began to swim.
I was well into my rhythm when, to my horror, there was a knock on my door, and before I could do anything, the door opened and I heard, "Alun, love. Can I speak to you for a minute?"
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, apart from the blush that immediately appeared on my face. My cock wilted, I struggled to try and stand up and cover myself all at the same time. Aunty Joanne stood there, still in her fluffy bathrobe, her eyes glued to my rapidly shrivelling cock.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were busy," she began, continuing with, " and I seem to have interrupted you. Oh look! Your cock's gone all soft. No. Don't get up. Lie there, and I'll see what I can do to help you with that!"
To my horror, a feeling which rapidly turned to delight, Aunty Joanne put her hand firmly on my chest and pushed me back into a prone position on my bed. She smiled at me and reached out her elegant hand with its delicate fingers and took hold of my limp, useless cock.
"Oh my!" she breathed quietly, a grin beginning to form on her soft, pink lips, "you have grown into a big boy, haven't you? Even as soft and floppy as you are now, you're much bigger than your Uncle Graham."
Expertly, she slid my foreskin back, exposing my cock helmet, which began to react. It started to swell.
"Mmm! That's better!" she said softly, looking me in the eye and smiling. "You seem to be liking this, Alun. I wonder what will happen if I do this?"
To my amazement, she knelt down at the side of my bed and dipped her head. Her soft, warm mouth enveloped my cock head, and I felt her tongue rubbing the very sensitive underneath of my helmet.
Two things happened. My cock rapidly re-acquired its recent hardness and I let out a gasp of ecstasy. Aunty Joanne released my cock from her mouth with a soft plopping sound. She licked her lips in a laviscious way.
"That's better!" she said throatily. "I was right. You are a big boy! Now lie back and relax. I hope you're going to enjoy this as much as I am!"
She dipped her head once more, and this time she took the best part of all of my cock into her mouth. Her tongue swirled a few times, and then as she became accustomed to both the length and the girth of my cock, she took it all in, and I felt the breath from her nostrils on my pubes. I gasped again.
"Aunty Joanne!" I managed to say as a familiar throb deep down in my balls began to make itself known, "if you don't stop, I'm going to cum in your mouth!"
She didn't answer; she didn't even break her rhythm. She merely raised her eyes to mine, and winked at me. It seemed to me that her mouth being otherwise occupied, she was smiling at me with her eyes.
I was in my seventh heaven. Aunty Joanne's mouth was soft, wet and warm. She was sucking all of the length of my cock, and it was such a fantastic sensation. My breath was both ragged and rapid. My balls were tingling, and then suddenly they seemed to contract as my ball sac tightened. I was familiar with this sensation. It meant I was right on the edge, and about to cum!
Aunty Joanne seemed to sense this too. How she knew was a mystery to me that first time. She told me later on that she became aware of my pre-cum leaking out of me, and that she wanted my cum in her mouth, not down the back of her throat, where she'd lose out on tasting me.
She pulled back so that only my throbbing helmet was still in her mouth. She was just in time! I grunted in ecstasy as the first rope of cum erupted from my cock. Aunty Joanne gave a "mmm!" of pleasure, which was drowned by my own groan as a second, third, fourth and fifth spasm ran through my ball sac, up the length of my shaft, each producing a spurt of thick, hot cum.
Aunty Joanne spilled not a drop! She swallowed my whole load, and as my balls ran out of spunk, and my cock began to shrivel, exhausted by the effort of transferring so much cum from my balls to Aunty Joanne's mouth, she continued to suck and lick me totally empty.
Eventually, she released me with the same plopping sound which gave me yet another thrill. I struggled upright, and Aunty Joanne pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. She smiled at me, and licked her lips again.
"Thank you, sweetie," she purred. "You taste delicious. I'd love to give you a big kiss to show you how grateful I am, but I've got cock breath now, and I'm betting you don't want to taste that! Was that your first ever blow job?"
I nodded, unable to speak. All I'd done was to lie on my bed and passively accept my Aunty sucking my cock, but I was exhausted. I cleared my throat and managed to splutter, "I'm sorry that I came in your mouth, Aunty Joanne. I did try to warn you."
She smiled and made little 'budge up' motions with her hands.
"Don't apologise," she said, lying down next to me, and not bothering to cover up her open bathrobe. "I've been wanting to do that for at least two years. It's been such a frustrating time, waiting until you're eighteen. I didn't want to run the risk of breaking the law!"
I looked at her in amazement. She laughed at me.
"Don't look so amazed," she said kindly. "You've developed into a very fine specimen of manhood. You're handsome and polite. You're fit and healthy, and the best part of all is that you've got a fabulous cock, which, on my first test run, seems to be working perfectly!"
"You must be beating the girls off with a stick!" she continued to tease me. "How fortunate that your boarding school went co-educational a few years ago. It was strictly boys only when Uncle Graham was a pupil there."
My silence obviously spoke volumes. Aunty Joanne looked at me in amazement. She smiled, and I blushed. Her smile broadened into a grin, and she began to laugh.
"I don't believe it!" she said, in a terrible impression of Victor Meldrew. "You're still a virgin, aren't you?"
I nodded miserably. It was true that I was popular with the girls at school, and I'd had my fair share of kisses. I'd been allowed to feel Eileen Williams's firm little tits, but when she'd slipped her hand inside my trousers, having first unzipped me, I couldn't get it up for her at all.
The rumour spread rapidly around the sixth form that Alun Pritchard was gay, and that he couldn't get a hard - on when a girl played with his cock.
Miserably, I related the whole sad saga to Aunty Joanne, who smiled sympathetically and leaned over to give me a comforting kiss on the cheek. She was right. She did have cock breath. She looked at me in amazement as my cock stirred, stimulated by the kiss and the scent of my cock and my cum on her breath.
"Fucking hell!" she breathed in amazement, and my cock twitched even more enthusiastically. One of my fantasies is to hear respectable women swearing. It really turned me on, and Aunty Joanne had never sworn in my hearing before.
"You look ready to go again," she smiled, pushing herself into a kneeling position at my side. "Am I right, or am I right?"
"You're right as usual, Aunty Joanne," I grinned up at her, taking my semi-hard cock in my hand and waggling it in her direction.
"Can you take your bathrobe off, please?" I asked cheekily. "I'd like to see your tits whilst you're sucking my cock!"
Aunty Joanne obliged, but as she was doing so, she said, "You've had your blow job, young man. I want you to fuck me now!"
She straddled my waist and took hold of my once again rock hard cock.
"Amazing how resilient young flesh is," she grinned. "You've only recently cum, and now you're ready for seconds. It's such a turn on to take a young man's cherry! I'm really going to enjoy this!"
She opened her legs to display a totally shaved cunt. I'd never seen one before, and her plump, pink outer cunt lips glistened with her juice. She lined herself up with my cock and sank down slowly onto my throbbing tool. It slid in smoothly, and suddenly, I wasn't a virgin anymore!
Clumsily, I tried to fuck her, thrusting my hips up violently, but all that happened was that my cock popped out of her. She smiled at me, put a finger on my lips and whispered. "Sshhh! Take your time. Let me set the pace!"
She put me back inside her, and guided my hands onto her two soft, warm tits.
"Play with my nipples," she instructed, "and just concentrate on them. I'll take care of things down below."
And take care of them she did. Her cunt alternately gripped and squeezed my cock, producing a sensation that was totally different to wanking, or even to having my cock sucked. It was fantastic, and she seemed to be enjoying it too. I felt a warm sensation in my groin, and I thought she was peeing on me, but it turned out that this was the result of her first orgasm. I lay there enjoying the sensation and she continued to fuck me, rather than the other way round.
It was a good job that she'd made me cum less than ten minutes previously, otherwise I'd have shot my bolt much quicker. As it was, we'd been fucking for about ten minutes, when she stopped, got off me and knelt on the bed with her arse facing me.
"Get on your knees behind me and fuck me doggy fashion," she instructed. "Your cock will go in deeper that way, and you can still reach around and play with my tits!"
In a daze, I obeyed her instructions, and the feeling of her lovely arse up against my thighs as I slid back into her was just fantastic. She allowed me to thrust in and out of her, cautioning me to take my time until I'd got my rhythm right.
I was getting into my stride and she was panting like a dog when I noticed her reaching down into the pocket of her bathrobe her hand emerged holding her mobile phone.
"Fuck me, she's going to take a photo of us fucking!" I thought to myself, but I was wrong. She pressed a button and put the phone to her ear, hissing "Sshh!" again when I asked her what she was doing.
Suitably rebuked I concentrated on fucking her slowly and deeply. Then I heard her say,He's fucking me now! He's got a glorious cock!" She giggled, presumably at the response to this statement, and I felt very proud of myself.
"OK," she said softly, "see you in a bit!"
I remembered that she had told me that she was going shopping this morning. I presumed that she had been talking to one of her friends. Did many women like Aunty Joanne discuss their sex lives so openly, I wondered.
My thoughts were interrupted by a soft "Oi!" from Aunty Joanne.
"Slow down tiger," she commanded. "I said go deep, but I didn't mean that you should try and come out of my throat," she complained.
"Take your time. I want to have at least another two orgasms before you cum in me!"
I felt her cunt muscles grip my shaft, and then relax and release me. I slowed my thrusting, and we worked out a rhythm between us. I'd thrust in, she'd grip and hold me for a few seconds, before relaxing and allowing me to pull back until only my helmet was left inside her. I'd pause for a second or two before pushing my whole length back into her, and we'd repeat the process.
I managed to keep going for another few minutes or so like this, during which Aunty Joanne moaned as another orgasm washed over her and she drenched my cock and thighs in pungent hot cunt juice.
But all good things must come to an end, and soon I felt that dull throbbing sensation in my ball sac again.
"I'm going to cum, Aunty Joanne," I said, "do you want me to pull out and cum on your bum?"
"I most certainly do not!" she retorted breathlessly, using her cunt muscles to grip me again and prevent me from any further fucking. "Hang on a moment!"
She pulled away from me and quickly lay on her back. Her legs were open, her cunt lips puffy and glistening. She grabbed my cock and pulled me into her once more. I slipped in easily with a delicious slurping sound that made us both grunt with pleasure.
"Cum in my cunt," she whispered, pulling me down so that we could share a lover's kiss.
Over the years, Aunty Joanne had kissed me hundreds, if not thousands of times. But never like this! Her mouth was open and her tongue seemed to be searching for my tonsils! She tasted so sweet and her hot breath no longer smelled of cock and my cum.
As she withdrew her tongue from my mouth, I tentatively pushed my own tongue into her mouth. She sucked it in and began to suck on it as if her life depended on extracting every drop of saliva from it. I'd never been kissed like this before. It was wonderful!
And all of a sudden, it happened. My ball sac contracted, my cock twitched and whoosh! The first spurt of cum shot out of my cock and into Aunty Joanne's hot, wet cunt. I grunted with the exertion, and Aunty Joanne moaned in pleasure.
"Keep going! Don't stop now! Fill me up with your young man's cum!" she instructed, and ever obedient, I obeyed her demands.
I banged into her, producing several more spurts of cum, each of which pulsed out of me and into her with satisfying regularity.
"Fuck! Oh fuck! That is so fucking good! Oh keep going, Alun! Oh, you fucking beauty! Mmmmmm! Oh fucking hell, I enjoyed that!"
My passion spent and my ball sac empty, I collapsed onto Aunty Joanne, gasping for breath. It seems she had enjoyed our fuck, and if truth be told, so had I! We lay together, still joined by my cock, but already it was beginning to shrivel up, exhausted by my recent exertions.
Aunty Joanne kissed me again. A very chaste, closed lips kiss on the mouth, but still very sweet and very sexy. I began to get up, but felt her trap me with her cunt muscles again.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked with mock severity.
"I'm sorry, Aunty Joanne " I said sheepishly, "but you've totally wiped me out! Not that I didn't enjoy that. It was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life!"
I felt her cunt muscles relax, and my poor shrivelled cock slipped out of her and lay glistening on her thigh. Aunty Joanne looked at me in concern. I tried to turn away from her, to hide the tears that had suddenly appeared in my eyes, but she was too determined for me. She gripped my chin and forced me to look at her.
"Whatever's the matter, Alun, sweetie?" she asked in a concerned voice. "Have I hurt you, squeezing your cock like that?"
I smiled at her, despite my tears, which were flowing freely now.
"I won't lie to you," I said quietly. "I've often thought about fucking you, but I never in my wildest dreams imagined we'd actually do it! It's just that..."
I faltered. I couldn't bring myself to say any more. Aunty Joanne sat up and drew me into her, putting her arms around me and cuddling me tight.
"Ssshh!" she said, again, although this time in a totally different context. "Take your time and tell me what's upsetting you. After what we've just done, there can never be any secrets between us now!"
"That's just it!" I snivelled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. Bloody hell! My eyes were leaking, my nose was leaking and even in its present condition, my cock was still leaking! I was losing moisture from everywhere!
"You and Uncle Graham have been everything to me since Mam and Dad were killed. You helped Gran out, and since she's gone, you've been my only family. I know you're not my proper parents, but I dread to think what would have happened to me if you hadn't adopted me."
"And how do I repay you both? I fuck my Uncle's wife, that's how. I can't go on living under the same roof as Uncle Graham now. I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye again. And as much as I loved having you suck my cock, and letting me fuck you, I won't be able to look at you in the same light again. I'll have to move out and find myself a job, I suppose. I can forget about going to University now."
As I finished this long speech, I was conscious of two things. Aunty Joanne's face was wreathed in a huge smile, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my bedroom door open wide, and Uncle Graham stood there looking at us both. He too had a huge grin on his face.
"Am I too late?" he asked anxiously.
Aunty Joanne shook her head with a smile.
"Perfect timing!" she replied "Alun was just experiencing some mild guilt at having fucked your wife. I was about to reassure him, but it will be all the more plausible if he hears it from you!"
I looked from one to the other and my surprise must have shown. Both Aunty Joanne and Uncle Graham laughed out loud.
"Uncle Graham, I'm so sorry," I began, my face scarlet with embarrassment. "I didn't mean for this to happen, and I assure you it will never happen again. I'll move out as soon as I can find somewhere else to live."
Uncle Graham shook his head.
"Don't talk bollocks " he said. "You might not have meant this to happen, but Joanne and I did! We are just glad that the age of consent is eighteen, not twenty one like in some countries! It would have been too much to have had to wait until you'd finished University!"
"And by the way " he continued "I heard that crap about you finding a job rather than going go Uni, as I was coming up the stairs. You won't get a job at Thomas and Phillips without a law degree, and you won't get a law degree without going to University."
He smiled as he saw the confusion still etched on my face, and held up his hand to stop me, as I started to ask for an explanation.
"All will be revealed in a few minutes," he continued, "but first, I have been called home to do some cleaning up."
Aunty Joanne smiled at him and then winked at me.
"Just watch," she whispered, sitting upright on my bed with her legs straight out in front of her. When she opened her legs, her cunt looked magnificent. Its outer lips glistened with the juice that our fucking had produced. They were swollen and puffy as a result, I suspected, of the pounding they had so recently experienced. As I looked on in wonder, Aunty Joanne spread her cunt open with her fingers to reveal its soft inner folds, now coated with my cum, which was beginning to leak out of her.
To my astonishment, Uncle Graham got onto my bed, fully clothed and lowered his face into Aunty Joanne's cum filled cunt. He began to lap away at it, bringing a groan of approval from my adoptive mother. As I continued to gawp, Aunty Joanne raised her legs on either side of Uncle Graham's head and crossed them behind his back. This action pulled him in closer and she locked his head securely into her. His snuffling, sucking noises could be heard clearly in the silence of my bedroom.
Uncle Graham's actions were clearly having an effect in Aunty Joanne. A flush blossomed on her face, spread down her throat to her neck, and within minutes it had reached her beautiful tits.
I noticed how her nipples hardened, and they obviously needed attention, because Aunty Joanne reached out to them and began to pull and tweak them. Her breath was becoming louder and more ragged, and she tossed her head with pleasure.
"Get it all!" she gasped as she began to buck her groin rapidly against Uncle Graham's face.
"Clean me out, cucky! Eat Alun's cum from my cunt!"
With a groan of ecstasy, Aunty Joanne opened her legs and used her hands to keep Uncle Graham in position. She bucked a few more times, her eyes closed and her mouth open. Then her whole body went stiff and she shuddered.
"Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh fuck, that's good. Right there! Keep it right there!"
As inexperienced and naive as I was back then, even I could work out that Aunty Joanne was having an orgasm. Not one caused by my cock, or even Uncle Graham's cock, but by having her cum filled cunt licked and sucked by her husband.
Almost simultaneously, two thoughts entered my head. What did cunt taste like? And what the fuck was a cucky?
Aunty Joanne released Uncle Graham and he struggled into a kneeling position. His face was flushed from his exertions and was glistening with a mixture of sweat, Aunty Joanne's cunt juices, and a tiny drop of my cum on the bridge of his nose.
Aunty Joanne scooped it off with her finger and fed it to Uncle Graham. He sucked her finger into his mouth with a grateful sigh. Then Aunty Joanne pulled her finger out of his mouth and kissed him.
"Mmmm!" she purred delightedly, "I love the taste of myself on your lips, cucky!"
They both laughed, and Uncle Graham turned and sat up next to his wife. They both looked at me, and then at each other.
"I think we ought to give Alun an explanation, my dear," said Uncle Graham. "Let's go down to the sitting room. We'll be more comfy there."
They both got off my bed and, holding hands, they walked past me to the door.
"Come on, slowcoach," chuckled Aunty Joanne, "all will be revealed in a few minutes. Literally!"
"But... we're both naked," I protested, "and..."
"And what?" asked Uncle Graham. "I've seen your Aunt naked before, and for years I used to take my turn bathing you when you were younger. Come on, get that fabulous body downstairs. I'm sure you have loads of questions. Between us, Aunty Joanne and I have all the answers!"
Downstairs in the sitting room, Aunty Joanne sat on the small two seater settee. She patted the cushion beside her.
"You come and sit by me, Alun," she said. "Your uncle can sit in the armchair. He has something to show you."
I sat down next to Aunty Joanne, and she immediately cuddled up to me and said in a stage whisper,
"Don't be shocked by what you're about to witness. We're all consenting adults here, so you needn't be embarrassed either."
She smiled at her husband and said casually, "Well go on then. Don't keep Alun and me waiting!"
"Yes, dear. Sorry, dear," came the reply, and to my amazement, Uncle Graham undid his trousers and took them off. He did the same with his underpants, and stood there totally unflustered.
The sight of Uncle Graham in a shirt and tie, socks and highly polished brogues and nothing else made me smile. What brought a broader grin to my face was his totally smooth pubic region, with its tiny cock, which despite it being fully hard, couldn't have measured more than three inches in length. It reminded me of a child's pencil. I looked at Aunty Joanne questioningly.
She winked at me and took hold of my own cock, which once again reacted to her touch and began to swell.
"There's no comparison really, is there?" she said. "A woman needs regular fucking, and ever since we've been married, I've sought bigger and better cocks than your Uncle Graham's. We love each other dearly, and I've never fucked anyone without telling him. That's how he knew to come home just now. It was him I phoned when you were fucking me!"
I was totally confused. Between what I'd just heard, what I was looking at, and what Aunty Joanne was doing to my cock, my mind was in turmoil. I looked from one to the other in confusion.
"Do you intend for this to happen again?" I asked.
"I'd love it to happen on a regular basis," replied Aunty Joanne, and Uncle Graham added, "And as long as I can watch sometimes, and get to do clean-up, and eat fresh cream pie, you both have my blessing to carry on fucking!"
"I need to know a lot more about this whole set-up before I agree to anything," I said, and they both nodded in agreement.
"What exactly do you want to know?" asked Uncle Graham, sitting down and starting to take off his shoes and socks.
"Well for a start, how long have you been doing this sort of thing?" I answered, "and how many men am I going to have to compete with?"
"Only one," answered Aunty Joanne defensively, "and that's only because you're going to be away at University for three years. I promise you that when you're home from Uni., you'll be the only one fucking me, and when you've graduated and start work with Uncle Graham, you'll be the only lover I'll want or need."
Over the course of the next two hours or so, between them they explained Aunty Joanne's term of affection for Uncle Graham. 'Cucky' was short for cuckold, a married man whose wife fucked other men with her husband's knowledge and approval.
A 'cream pie' referred to the cum left in a wife's cunt by her lover which was then 'eaten' by her cuckold. This was also referred to as 'doing clean-up', and Aunty Joanne also introduced the term 'fluffing' to me, which I didn't particularly fancy. She said that if I was willing, Uncle Graham would suck my cock until it was hard and then put it into Aunty Joanne's waiting cunt. I said I'd think about that for a while.
Then came the real bombshell. If I'd been pleasantly surprised by Aunty Joanne's behaviour since she came into my bedroom earlier that morning, what she told me next really blew my mind.
"The night your parents were killed," she told me, "they were returning to your house from here. We'd had what we used to call a play date together. Both your father and your mother had fucked me that night whilst Graham watched. He'd fluffed your father, and cleaned your mother out after she'd been fucked."
I looked at her in disbelief.
"You and mam had sex?"
Aunty Joanne smiled kindly at me.
"Both of your parents were bi-sexual," she said. "We fucked one another for years, long before you were born, and even after you appeared. Your father fucked Graham too, didn't he my love?"
"Yes," replied Uncle Graham sadly, "and since he died, no man has fucked me since. Your Aunty Joanne pegs me now and again, but I do miss being properly buggered by a real man!"
"What the hell is pegging?" I asked, and Aunty Joanne explained how she would wear a harness around her waist which held a rubber cock which she would use to fuck Uncle Graham up the arse.
I grinned at her and said that I wouldn't mind seeing that sometime. She squeezed my cock and promised to give me a demonstration very soon.
What happened next really blew my mind. Aunty Joanne got up from the settee and went over to the bureau. She opened the drawer and took out a box. Turning to Uncle Graham, she said with a wicked grin,
"It's time, cucky. You've had your treat. Now you have to pay for it."
I sat there and watched as Aunty Joanne fitted a hard plastic ring around Uncle Graham's tiny ball sac. She then slipped a sheath of the same material over his little boy's cock, and with a soft 'click' they fitted together. She took a small padlock out of the box and locked the plastic device on Uncle Graham. When she was finished, she turned to me with an explanation.
"Cucky gets to wear this for two days after he's been treated to a cream pie," she said in a business-like manner. "His cock is so pathetically small that he can get a hard-on even when he's been fitted with it, but he can't play with himself or get any relief until I let him out. It's all part of our agreement."
"What exactly is it?" I asked, fascinated by such an ingenious device.
"It's called a CB6000 chastity device," replied Aunty Joanne. "A lot of women use them to keep their cuckolds from playing with themselves. I'll let him out in a few days if he's a good boy!"
I laughed and Uncle Graham blushed. I apologised to him, but he waved it away.
"I love wearing this," he explained. "It is a constant reminder that I'm not big enough to satisfy my wife. That's your job from now on, Alun!"
Aunty Joanne winked at me. I gave her a thumbs up sign, and everyone seemed to have accepted the new regime in our household.
Uncle Graham dressed and went back to the office and Aunty Joanne and I had a shower together. It was in the shower that I had my first experience of oral sex. I licked and sucked Aunty Joanne's beautifully smooth, clean cunt, and she had a knee trembling orgasm before we got out of the shower and dried ourselves.
I accompanied her into town to do some shopping, and we had lunch together in a gastro pub. I wanted to tell everybody that we saw that I was fucking this beautiful woman who was with me, but of course, I didn't do that.
I was awakened from my trip down memory lane by the ringing of the phone. I got up to answer it, and when I picked up the receiver, a voice asked if it would be possible to speak to Mrs Thomas.
It was very painful to have to explain that Mrs Thomas was recently deceased, and the lady on the other end of the phone apologised and offered her condolences. I put the phone down and suddenly realised how hungry I was.
I went into the kitchen, cut myself two thick slices of bread and popped them in the toaster. When they were done, I made myself another cup of coffee, buttered my toast and sat down at the kitchen table to eat my snack.
Once again, I drifted off into the past. It was at this very table that I'd sat opposite Aunty Joanne on the day that I'd first fucked her. And it was at the same table, later on that same day that Aunty Joanne, Uncle Graham and I had eaten our evening meal, and talked about our forthcoming holiday in Provence.
And what a holiday that turned out to be. My adoptive parents owned a chateau in Gordes, a hilltop village in Provence. It was a fantastic place, typically French in every way, but they had installed a reliable electricity supply and had a swimming pool dug in the garden. I loved it there, and when we arrived I immediately regretted all the missed opportunities when I'd passed up the invitation to accompany them.
I noted a few changes that had taken place since I was last there. Notably, the property next door had been renovated, and was now occupied. I asked Aunty Joanne who lived there, and she replied vaguely that they were an English couple, whom I would no doubt meet during the course of our stay.
Aunty Joanne was very business-like when it came down to organising things at the chateau.
"You and I will sleep in the master bedroom, Alun," she said, in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. "Don't bother trying to persuade me otherwise. Your uncle and I have discussed the matter. He's to sleep in the main guest bedroom, which you used to occupy on your previous visits. It's not too far from our bedroom, so any cream pies which need to be devoured can still be eaten fresh and hot."
I looked at Uncle Graham, who gave me a wink and the thumbs up sign, so I didn't make any fuss at all. It looked as if my tutorials in fucking were not going to be neglected at all!
That evening the three of us went into the village for our evening meal. Aunty Joanne impressed upon me the need to speak French, and so within minutes of our arrival I had arranged a table on the terrace, and whilst I interpreted the menu for my aunty and uncle, we drank an aperitif. Aunty Joanne had a Kir Royale, and Uncle Graham and I both had a Ricard.
I was ordering for the three of us when a couple came and sat at the next table. Smiles were exchanged, and when the waitress had gone, the woman turned to Aunty Joanne and said, "I might need to borrow him. I'm afraid I can't make head nor tail of this menu. I wish they'd provide an English version for tourists."
I bit my tongue. I hated the fact that Brits flocked to France and expected the natives to be fluent in English. I'd had this argument with Aunty Joanne and Uncle Graham several times, which was one of the reasons I'd stopped accompanying them. The warning tap on my ankle from Aunty Joanne was therefore wholly unnecessary.
We ate a magnificent meal and prepared to return home. The couple next to us were still eating as we left, and wished us a good night.
"We'll see you tomorrow, no doubt," smiled the woman, and on the way back home, Aunty Joanne explained that she and her husband were our next door neighbours.
"You need to be wary of Diana," she warned me. "She and Sidney, her husband, have a similar arrangement to Graham and I. Except she keeps Sidney on a very tight leash. He's a bit submissive, you see. He likes her to beat him!"
I'd formed quite a good impression of this Diana, checking her out surreptitiously as she sat opposite me in the restaurant. She had a fabulous figure, and despite her rather xenophobic attitude towards the French, I'd decided that I certainly wouldn't kick her out of bed. But if accepting a beating was the price she charged for fucking her, then she could forget it. And I had Aunty Joanne to fuck anyway!
Once we arrived back home, Uncle Graham asked if anyone wanted a nightcap before bed. I looked at Aunty Joanne, who shook her head and replied, "Not for me, thanks. All I want to send me off into the land of nod is Alun's cock."
We went upstairs, and on the landing, Aunty Joanne kissed Uncle Graham and wished him a good night.
"We'll see you in the morning, darling," she smiled, taking me by the hand and leading me into the master bedroom.
The door closed and she turned to me and asked, "Are you ok with this? Or would you prefer if your uncle was allowed to stand in the corner and watch?"
I nodded enthusiastically. "I know Uncle Graham accepts what's going on," I said, "but I am a bit uncomfortable with sending him off to sleep on his own. This bed is massive. If you slept in the middle, all three of us could sleep together, and Uncle Graham wouldn't have to be called to eat his cream pie."
Aunty Joanne kissed me. "You really are a sweet boy," she said, "and both Graham and I love you to bits. We are so grateful for what you are doing for us!"
I grinned. "Aunty Joanne," I said, "believe me when I say that fucking you and getting my cock sucked is no hardship!"
She kissed me again, told me to get undressed and get into bed, and went to give my uncle, her cuckold husband, the good news.
When they returned I was already in bed. Aunty Joanne was still wearing the light cotton dress that she'd had on to go to the restaurant, but Uncle Graham had already changed for bed and was wearing the most hideous pair of pyjamas it had been my misfortune to set eyes on. They were made of some shapeless material and had the sort of pattern that guaranteed sleeplessness. Aunty Joanne grinned at my expression.
"They're awful, aren't they?" she said matter-of-factly, "but if he's going to share our bed, then I don't want to have to see his little boy's cock standing up pathetically like some sort of cocktail stick. I've brought his cock lock with us. If he's a good boy, he can wear that to bed after tonight!"
She undressed quickly and got into bed next to me. Reaching under the cotton sheet that covered us, her face broke into a broad grin.
"Look what I've found!" she warbled throatily. "Now that's what I mean when I think about cock. Cucky, you may wander around and watch your wife getting herself well fucked, but if I see you touching yourself at all, you'll be back in your own bed without cream pie. Do you understand?"
"Yes, dear, of course," replied Uncle Graham meekly. "Do either of you require some oral stimulation before you start?"
"Not likely!" retorted Aunty Joanne. "Alun's as hard as an iron bar, and as I've been thinking about having his beautiful cock in me ever since we sat down to eat this evening, I'm already dripping wet."
"You just watch how a real man fucks a needy woman, and you can claim your reward later. Now I don't want to hear another word. I'm going to enjoy this!"
Aunty Joanne wasn't the only one who enjoyed our first fuck in France. She sat astride me and lowered herself onto my cock with a shudder of pure pleasure. I felt the wet warmth of her cunt envelop me, and I reached up and thumbed both her nipples. She groaned in delight.
"Let me, to begin with," she instructed, clenching her cunt muscles so that my cock was squeezed in a most delightful way. She relaxed her grip momentarily before repeating the action. She lowered herself down, and I raised my upper body to meet her half way.
We kissed deeply, our tongues combining in an erotic dance, and already I could feel my ball sac tightening. To avoid cumming in her before we'd got properly started, I concentrated on a particularly baffling clause of jurisprudence which I'd had to learn for my recent exams, and that did the trick perfectly.
Aunty Joanne gave herself her first orgasm through clenching and relaxing, and when it had subsided, she climbed off me and knelt on the huge bed above me.
"Do me doggy fashion," she commanded, and I scrambled into position and slid into her dripping cunt. We both gasped at the sensation that produced.
I began to slide in and out of her and once my rhythm was established, Aunty Joanne beckoned Uncle Graham over to stand at the foot of the bed.
"This is what you call fucking, Cucky," she gasped. "Alun's cock is stretching and filling me beautifully. I'm sure you're going to have a gorgeous cream pie any minute now!"
I kept my rhythm going, until I felt that Aunty Joanne was ready to take my cum. She was literally dripping wet, her thighs glistening with the juices that my cock was making her cunt produce.
"Whenever you're ready, big boy," she gasped, clenching her cunt muscles at the conclusion of every thrust that I made into her. I didn't last long after that. My ball sac contracted, ready to expel my cum, and I broke rhythm and began to fuck her frantically.
"Oh, god, yes! Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Come on Alun, my love! Cum in me and fill me up! Yes! That's it! Fuck me my beautiful boy! Fuck me! AAAaarrghhhh!"
We collapsed on the bed and my throbbing cock continued to pump cum into her seemingly insatiable cunt. She squeezed me again, and the sensation was fantastic. We lay there, still joined, panting heavily. After a few minutes, my well used cock slipped out of her and lay gleaming on my thigh.
Aunty Joanne lay down next to me, sweat glistening on her forehead and also running down between her gorgeous tits. She kissed me and whispered her thanks, adding, "Keep your eyes closed, my darling. This won't hurt a bit."
I was knackered anyway, so I needed no persuasion to keep my eyes shut. Aunty Joanne began to gently rub my nipples, and I suddenly became aware that my cock was being shifted. All of a sudden, it was in her mouth, and I could feel her tongue licking the combination of cum and cunt juice from around my helmet.
I relaxed and began to enjoy the sensations her talented mouth and tongue were beginning to cause. So it came as a shock when, with my eyes still closed, she kissed me on the lips.
Now I don't pretend to be an intellectual giant, but I'm no dumbo either. My brain asked me how on earth Aunty Joanne could be kissing me and sucking my cock at the same time.
Eventually, the answer came to me. She wasn't! By a process of elimination, I worked out that if Aunty Joanne was kissing me (and she certainly was. My tonsils were loving the attention her tongue was giving them), then obviously Uncle Graham was sucking my cock. He was doing a clean-up job on me!
I had a choice. I could pull out of his mouth and create a fuss, or I could continue to enjoy the sensation and carry on getting my tonsils tickled by Aunty Joanne's tongue. It wasn't a difficult decision to make. I chose the latter.
Eventually, Uncle Graham finished cleaning my cock. He'd certainly done a good job! I was hard again. Aunty Joanne nodded her approval.
"Look at that!" she giggled in delight. "The recovery period of the young is a thing of beauty to behold!"
She lay down on her back, still holding my cock in one hand.
"Good job, Cucky!" she said softly. "You may come and claim your reward. Alun's left a huge cream pie in me and I want it all eaten up before I go to sleep. You may begin!"
Uncle Graham dived in between his wife's thighs and latched onto her cunt with a leech-like tendency. He began to eat his cream pie, and judging from the snuffling, gasping sounds he began to make, it was a particularly tasty meal.
We all fell asleep not long after that, but that sort of performance was to be repeated throughout the six weeks that we spent in Provence. We were well on the way to becoming the perfect loving family.
And then, all too soon, it was time to go home. All three of us looked wonderfully healthy, thanks to the fantastic Provence weather and the fact that we'd rarely bothered with clothes during our stay. I was as suntanned as I'd ever been, only the palms of my hands and the soles of my feet remained as pink as they'd ever been.
Aunty Joanne's body glowed with health, and she kindly told me that it wasn't all down to the sunshine.
"My daily doses of your beautiful cock played a big part too," she confided in me, as we cuddled in bed for the last time whilst Uncle Graham loaded our suitcases into the car.
I was even used to letting him clean me up after I'd fucked Aunty Joanne. His cock sucking technique was very different to hers, but none the less pleasant. And it gave him a thrill, which pleased me no end.
We arrived home, and soon got back into the daily grind. For me, that meant re-packing my things and trundling off to university. Uncle Graham returned to the office, and Aunty Joanne did her housewife thing, which included a weekly meeting with a lover. I wasn't particularly happy about that, but in her letters to me, she assured me that all he was doing was keeping her cunt wet and warm for me to come back to in the holidays.
And I wasn't exactly living a chaste life either. Uncle Graham, who seemed to have contacts all over the place, arranged for me to lodge with an acquaintance of his, rather than live in a single room in the student hall of residence.
Mrs. Simpson was a widow, whose husband had been a friend of Aunty Joanne and Uncle Graham back in the day. She fussed over me like a mother hen, making sure that I ate healthily, didn't drink too much, and wasn't distracted from my studies by what she called 'little slips of girls who would be only too glad to snare a well-to-do, intelligent, handsome lad like me.'
She needn't have worried. I went home for the weekend for the first time after about six weeks. I was desperate for a fuck. My balls were so full that they ached. Normally, I would have resorted to my pre-Aunty Joanne habit of daily wanking, but my bed squeaked every time I moved on it, and Mrs Simpson didn't believe in locks on the bathroom door.
So it was with great relief that after supper on that Friday night, we all went upstairs and after Uncle Graham had fluffed me, Aunty Joanne and I resumed our fucking. She made me feel quite wonderful when, lying in post-orgasmic bliss, she told me that I was a much better lover than 'Temporary Tom', and we spent most of that weekend catching up on six weeks' worth of separation.
Before I went back, both Aunty Joanne and Uncle Graham asked about Mrs. Simpson. I told them that she was kind, considerate and a brilliant cook, but that living with her wasn't the same as being home.
"We realise that," Uncle Graham said, adding, "we also realise that you have needs that must be taken care of. Olwen Simpson knows about your situation here. When he was alive, her husband had the same interests as me. Olwen made him a cuckold too."
"What your uncle is trying and failing miserably to tell you, is that Olwen likes a good fucking too," Aunty Joanne said with a smile.
"After all, I'm fucking 'Temporary Tom' whilst you're away. If you want to fuck Olwen, you go ahead. I don't want you getting out of practice and losing match fitness!"
And so, when I got back to University on the Sunday afternoon after my first visit home, Mrs. Simpson casually informed me that Aunty Joanne and Uncle Graham had been on the phone whilst I was on my way back.
"Do you want a cup of tea to get your strength back after your long journey?" she asked solicitously.
Long journey? It was twenty five miles at the most, and had taken me just over three quarters of an hour on the train. I must have had a particularly uncomprehending look on my face, because Mrs. Simpson blushed and added quietly, "Or would you like to start to get to know me better straight away?"
I grinned at her.
"Aunty Joanne explained that you know all about our home life," I began. "And although she drained me before I left home, I'm sure I can rise to the occasion with a bit of help from your good self!"
Mrs. Simpson, or Aunty Olwen as I learned to call her, became my lover that Sunday afternoon. She certainly was different to Aunty Joanne, because she didn't like 'smutty talk' as she termed it when I mentioned my cock.
"I prefer 'willy' she said, and she also educated me that her tits were her boobies and her cunt was her foo-foo. I didn't mind what she called them, because she was an exceptional cock sucker, and she also introduced me to some practices which I hadn't learned from Aunty Joanne.
I was fucking her one evening a few months after we'd had our first fuck, and she'd already had three orgasms. (I learned that after she'd had her first orgasm, subsequent ones followed very rapidly if I continued to fuck her).
We were both approaching our climax when she took hold of my hand and found my index finger. Without breaking stride, (she was riding me cowgirl style at this point) she reached behind her with my hand and put my finger on her arsehole.
"Push it in me," she gasped, and I did as I was told. The reaction that I got was incredible. My finger went in up to the third knuckle and felt warm and squashed at the same time But Aunty Olwen went wild.
Her cunt went into some sort of spasm, and the grip on my cock would have been painful were I not so engrossed in fucking her. As it was I thought that I'd caused her to piss herself, so intense and prolonged was her orgasm.
She actually passed out for a couple of seconds, and her cunt grip on my cock slackened enough to allow me to cum copiously. I was still shooting thick ropes of cum into her when she regained consciousness and without seeming to miss a beat, she continued to ride me until my ball sac was empty and my limp cock flopped out of her.
She grinned at me and offered me the chance to eat my own cream pie. I declined graciously, saying that what turned Uncle Graham on wasn't really my cup of tea.
"That's when I miss my cuckold," she said sadly. "Richard used to love cleaning up my foo-foo after I'd been pleasured by one or other of my lovers. Mind you, I shouldn't complain. It's been years since I've had the pleasure of someone like you who is willing to give me such lovely orgasms."
To my delight, she slipped one of her own fingers into her cunt and when she withdrew it, she licked my cum off with relish.
"Lovely!" she pronounced. "I do love the taste of a man's cum. It's much nicer than lady cum although I have been known to sip from Joanne's foo-foo in the past!"
I burst into laughter and gave her a kiss, which I immediately regretted, because her lips were coated with my cum.
"You are full of surprises, Aunty Olwen," I said, still chuckling at her last confession.
But she still had a few surprises up her sleeve for me, or rather up her arse.
I came home from Uni one day and kissed her as I always did when I got back. She held my hand and, with a twinkle in her eye asked me if I was in the mood for some play.
I was always in the mood and so we went upstairs to the bedroom we now shared. I undressed her, paying careful attention to her tits and nipples, so that she'd be nice and wet by the time we were both naked.
In turn, she undressed me, and sucked my cock until it was hard. We lay down and I prepared to mount her.
"No, Alun," she said shyly, "I want something different this afternoon. I want you to put your willy up my bum."
I looked at her in amazement.
"Are you sure?" I asked her. "I've never done that before."
"No, I know," she replied, blushing furiously. "I've been speaking to Joanne this afternoon on the phone. She asked how we were getting along, and I told her that we both enjoyed each other's company."
I grinned. "What did Aunty Joanne have to say to that?" I asked mischievously.
Aunty Olwen blushed an even deeper red.
"I'm very fond of Joanne," she replied. "As I think I told you, we've had sex on a couple of occasions. But she really does have a potty mouth sometimes. Some of the words she uses for her body parts and for the lovely act that we get up to are positively disgusting!"
She rolled over onto her stomach and waggled her arse provocatively.
"Now enough chat," she said in a mock stern voice. "Please put your willy up my bum and give me the seeing-to I've been thinking about all afternoon!"
My cock was throbbing and very hard, and I put my helmet up against her little star puckered arsehole, but when I pushed against it, I didn't slip in as I was used to when I fucked her in her cunt.
"There's not so much give in my bum as there is in my foo-foo," Aunty Olwen said breathlessly. "You'll be tight going in, but I promise you it will be worth it. Push, Alun, push for all you're worth!"
And push I did. There was a brief moment of pain, and then all of a sudden I was in! It felt so different. I pulled out a bit and thrust back in, bringing a mewl of delight from Aunty Olwen.
"Oh, I do like it up my bum," she panted. "It makes me feel so full!"
I continued to pull back slightly and thrust in, and soon her arse seemed to self-lubricate. It became a lot easier to fuck her, although it was still very tight. Given the way her arse was squeezing my cock, I didn't last long and I drenched her arse with floods of cum.
Because she hadn't cum, I flipped her over and went down on her with my mouth. She protested at first - "There's no need for you to do that, Alun," - but once my tongue and lips got to work on her clit, she gave up her protest and started to ride my face.
When she eventually did cum, it was accompanied by a loud wail of pleasure and my face and mouth were drenched in cunt juice. I lapped away, cleaning up as best as I could, and she hauled me up to face her and gave me a big wet kiss.
"Thank you, my dear," she said with tears in her eyes. "I really enjoyed that. Can we do it again sometime?"
I promised her that 'bum pleasure' would be a regular feature of our play in future, and over the next three years, I was as good as my word. I fucked Aunty Olwen in her cunt and in her arse regularly, and we often got each other off by mutual sucking in the sixty nine position too.
I graduated and left University and began work in Uncle Graham's law firm, but I regularly returned to visit Aunty Olwen, sometimes alone and sometimes with Aunty Joanne and Uncle Graham. She was always glad to receive a visit, even if she still didn't approve of Aunty Joanne's 'potty mouth'!
My toast was long finished, my coffee cup empty. When I looked at my watch I was amazed to see that my reminiscing had taken nearly three hours. It was dark outside, and I had to be up early in the morning to shower and make myself presentable for my appointment with Walter Phillips.
Wearily, I climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom that until recently I had shared with Aunty Joanne. I undressed and slipped into bed and lay there thinking of all the fabulous times I'd had since that fateful day when I'd been caught wanking in my own bedroom. An awful lot of sucking, fucking and buggering had occurred since that day, but now, those days were over, I reflected sadly. I fell asleep with my head on Aunty Joanne's pillow, her fragrance in my nostrils as I drifted off.
The next morning I was awake early. I showered and went down to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast. Then I dressed in my best suit, polished my shoes and jumped into Uncle Graham's vintage Jaguar Mark 2 car and drove to the office.
Aunty Joanne had insisted that I keep the Jaguar after Uncle Graham died, and we had taken some memorable trips in it after his death. I fucked her in the back seat in the car park overlooking the nearest beach to us late one Saturday night, and I also fucked her over the bonnet when I parked in a clearing in the woods when we went for a picnic to a local beauty spot. But now that she was gone, what would happen to the car? To the house? To me, even?
I walked into the office and Jill, the office secretary stood up and smiled at me.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Alun," she said softly. "But it is lovely to see you back in the office. We've all missed you."
"Thank you, Jill. I really appreciate it," I said sincerely. "Um... I have an appointment with Walter. It seems that my Aunt specified that I was to attend the reading of her will."
Jill picked up the phone on her desk and pressed a button. She waited and obviously someone picked up the phone at the other end.
"Alun... um... sorry, Mr Pritchard is here for Mr Walters" she said, and listened for a response. Then she said, "Thanks. I'll tell him."
She replaced the receiver and looked at me in embarrassment.
"Sorry about calling you Alun," she said, but I waved her apology away.
"You've always called me Alun," I smiled, "and I hope you always will."
Jill returned my smile and replied, "I called you Alun when you were a colleague. Clients are to be addressed formally, especially by me."
So that was it. I was no longer a colleague. I had become a client when Aunty Joanne passed away.
My thoughts were interrupted by Jill, who was speaking again.
"Sorry, Jill," I said. "I missed that. I was miles away."
"I said that Mrs Jackson was on her way down to meet you," repeated Jill, looking at me in a sympathetic way. I felt as if she'd been reading my thoughts.
"Bloody great!" I thought. "Not only am I going to be out of a job very soon, I have to be told that fact by Mrs. Pamela fucking Jackson office manager and full-time hard-nosed bitch. And here she fucking comes!"
The door to the solicitor's offices behind Jill's desk opened, and Pamela Jackson appeared. As usual, she wore a designer suit which fitted her like a glove. I found myself studying the woman who had come to deliver my death sentence, or at least the news that I was surplus to requirements at the firm of Thomas and Phillips.
Her jet black hair was immaculately styled, as always, and her make-up (green eye shadow, black mascara, scarlet lips) was perfectly applied. I'd always found her tits fascinating. They weren't big, but they were conical, resembling the bra made famous by Madonna.
Her shapely arse was beautifully covered by her almost-too-tight skirt and her legs were sheathed in black nylon. Whether she wore stockings or tights was difficult to discern from where I was standing. Her outfit was completed by a pair of shiny black shoes with what I guessed to be a three inch heel.
"Good morning, Alun," she smiled at me, ignoring the look of indignation from Jill, whom she had just bollocked on the phone for using my Christian name.
"Thanks for being so prompt. Walter is waiting for you in the briefing room. Follow me, please."
As I followed her, I gave Jill a wave of support. The briefing room? That was only used when solicitors met the barristers whom they wished to engage, or brief, on behalf of a client. Why the hell were we meeting there?
I soon found out. Pamela led me into the briefing room and waved me into a chair. I sat down and looked at Walter Phillips who was sitting directly opposite me. When she was satisfied that I was seated comfortably, Pamela walked around the table and sat next to Walter.
I looked at him in astonishment.
"I thought we were going to read my Aunt's will," I protested. "Does Mrs Jackson need to be present? She's the office manager, not a solicitor."
"Your Aunt, Mrs Joanne Thomas, specified that I read her will in the presence of you and Mrs Jackson, and no-one else," replied Walter, in what I thought was a very uncharacteristically subdued voice.
He cleared his throat, and began to read.
"This is the last will and testament of Joanne Thomas. 'I, Joanne Thomas, being of sound mind, do declare this to be my last will and testament. I hereby leave all my possessions, including my house, and everything situated within it, my cars and my portfolio of stocks and shares to my adopted son, Alun Pritchard' "
Walter looked at me but I was staring down into my groin, to try and prevent either him or Pamela seeing the tears in my eyes. My nose began to run, and I sniffed loudly. Suddenly, I was aware that Pamela was by my side, proffering a box of paper tissues. I took a couple and smiled my thanks.
Walter cleared his throat again. I looked at him, tears still rolling down my face.
"Mrs Thomas was adamant that you hear everything," he said with a sad smile. "Which is my cue to hand over to Mrs Jackson."
I looked at her and she smiled. I wasn't used to seeing the hard-nosed bitch smile, but now that she had, she really was quite cute looking. I smiled back encouragingly at her.
"There's no subtle way of putting this, Alun," she began. "So here it is, just as Joanne instructed me to relay it to you."
She took out a piece of foolscap paper from a folder in front of her, and began to read.
"My darling Alun. I've left everything to you in gratitude for the pleasure you gave both Graham and myself whilst we were both alive. I have arranged with Walter that you are now the senior partner in the firm. Graham saw to it before he died, and I am carrying out his wishes. You stood in for him in so many ways whilst he was alive. I wish you to carry on doing so now that he's gone."
"As to your dedication to me personally, I want you to know that I had never been so fulfilled and happy before that wonderful morning when I walked into your bedroom unannounced."
I felt myself starting to blush, and I fidgeted in my chair, causing Pamela to stop reading and Walter to look at me with a huge grin on his face.
"Are you alright, Alun?" asked Pamela in a concerned voice. "Would you like a glass of water?"
"Um... no thanks. Ah... um... why don't you carry on reading, if there's any more to be read," I mumbled.
"Oh, there's plenty more!" grinned Pamela, and Walter chuckled.
"Now that I'm dead and gone," Pamela resumed in a business-like manner, "I am tormented by the thought of your beautiful cock going to waste. So I've chosen a new lover for you. I've told Pamela all about your prowess and she has enthusiastically agreed to be my replacement."
I looked at Pamela, but she studiously avoided my stare and continued reading.
"And just in case you feel that something is missing, Walter has agreed to step into your Uncle Graham's role. He won't be a cuckold in the strict sense of the word, but he does like to be told what he can and cannot do, and he assures me that he is quite adept at fluffing, cock sucking and clean up."
"So your needs, as well as those of my dear friends Pamela and Walter will be attended to. That's all my darling boy. Thank you for everything. Now please do me a very final favour and allow Walter to fluff you so that you can give Pamela a really good fucking over that table."
Pamela folded the piece of paper in half, and looked up at me.
"Those were your Aunt's final instructions," she said with a huge grin on her face.
In the deathly silence that followed this statement, the sound of my trousers being unzipped sounded like a rasp of machine gun fire.
"Walter, Pamela, you've heard Aunty Joanne's last instruction," I said, "what are you both waiting for? Let's get fluffing and fucking!"