Chapter 4

That night, at dinner, my thoughts were chaotic. I’d certainly enjoyed my afternoon with Aunt Susan, and I definitely wanted to repeat the pleasurable experience, many times. But I was still basically inexperienced. I had no idea how to initiate anything with her. I certainly couldn’t have one of my friends pass her a note in Study Hall!

“Are you okay, honey?” Mom asked, breaking my introspective, and confused, train of thought.

“Huh?” I replied blankly.

“You seem distracted. Are you feeling okay?” she asked. And in the time-honored tradition of mothers everywhere, she felt my forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re not hot.”

I quickly came up with a lame excuse, “I was just thinkin’ about what I wanted to do the rest of the week.” It was lame, but better a lame answer than letting her figure out for herself, right or wrong, what I was thinking about. Parents always made things out to be worse than they were, especially when they were worried about you.

“Okay, honey,” Mom said, mollified but not satisfied.

“May I be excused?” Erin asked, obviously not interested in my problems.

I was thankful for the distraction, however.

“Finish your peas, honey, and then you’re excused,” Mom replied, surveying my sister’s picked-over plate.

I had the singular misfortune of having to eat peas with dinner tonight. And I swear to God, if I hadn’t been distracted and not eating all that much, it would’ve taken every ounce of willpower I had not to suffer a hard-on every time I looked at them. Even now, staring at the little green things threatened to rouse an erection.

But that was only part of the problem. Not only was I distracted by the thoughts whirling in my head about Aunt Susan, I wasn’t eating much. I was usually a healthy eater. Mom had noticed that as well as my obvious distraction. And unless I wanted to start answering questions as soon as Erin left the table, I’d better start making like normal Paul.

I started eating, thankful for the distraction, as Erin quickly scooped her remaining peas into her mouth and took her dishes to our usual sink. As an added bonus, Mom wouldn’t expect me to make conversation, or answer probing questions, while I was so industriously applying myself to finishing my dinner.

But that night, I didn’t touch a single pea. There was no way I would ever get out of the clubhouse if I got an erection during dinner! I did my best to think about nuns playing baseball. Old, wrinkled nuns...

Thankfully, it worked.

I had almost finished my dinner, except for the peas of course, when my mother looked over my shoulder. I turned to see who it was and almost choked on my tongue.

Standing behind me was Aunt Susan. I froze! Had she decided to tell my mother what had happened this afternoon?! Had she decided to tell us that we had to leave the camp? Had she... ? The awful possibilities were endless. Sometimes, I hated having a vivid imagination.

“Susan,” Mom said brightly, “how are you? Would you care to join us?”

I’m sure I turned a sickly shade of blue. Mom gave me a quizzical look when she saw the expression on my face; a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Thanks, Beth,” Aunt Susan said as she slid into the seat to my left. “I wanted to talk to you...” She let it hang in the air for a moment. Then she brought the hammer down, “About Paul.”

I was contemplating hara-kiri with a dinner fork.

“Oh?” my mother asked pleasantly.

“Well, he’s been such a hard worker, and so helpful and polite, that I was wondering if he couldn’t spend the rest of the week helping me around the house.” I let my breath out explosively, and both women looked at me. Aunt Susan got an amused look on her face, while Mom was confused and not a little bit annoyed at my absolute lack of manners.

With a grimace, Mom turned back to Aunt Susan, “I’m glad to hear he’s been so helpful. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, when Dad died, I really didn’t have time to go through a lot of his things. I mostly just boxed them up and stored them in the garage. It should only take a couple of days to go through the boxes and sort them out, but I wanted to see if Paul could help out. It sure would make it easier on me.”

“I guess it’s up to Paul,” Mom said, turning to look at me. “None of his friends are here yet, and I don’t have much for him to do.”

Aunt Susan turned to regard me as well, “I’ll pay the same as before, three dollars an hour.”

I looked back at her, trying to decide if she were teasing me, torturing me, trying to hire me, or “D) All of the above.” I blinked as she regarded me coolly.

Confused and somewhat overwhelmed, I simply nodded.

“Excellent!” Aunt Susan beamed. “I’ll feed him breakfast and lunch, and make sure he’s back here for dinner by six, Beth.”

My Mom nodded in agreement and aimed another speculative glance my way. I blithely ignored it and asked to be excused. When Mom nodded, I practically knocked the chair over getting up from the table.

“What’s gotten into him, do you suppose?” I heard Mom ask as I walked away.

“I don’t know,” Aunt Susan responded. “But I’ll keep an eye on him for you.”

I redoubled my pace toward the sink and then hurried out of the clubhouse.

That night, my thoughts were confusing and random. I ran through scenario after scenario in my head. I was at a loss for what Aunt Susan was doing, but I had no doubt that she was Up To Something. I just didn’t know what it was. I knew what I hoped it was, but I just wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

I finally convinced myself that I was wrong, that things were simply going to go back to normal, and that the afternoon’s events were a one-time thing. I was awake long after Mom and Erin had gone to sleep that night.

Mom once again woke me up in time to be at Aunt Susan’s. She gave me a concerned look, but I pretended not to notice and went through my morning ritual before heading out to Aunt Susan’s house.

When I got there, she motioned me through the kitchen door as if nothing were different. I did notice that she wasn’t wearing her bikini bottoms. She was, however, wearing an apron. A positive sign? Maybe, maybe not. I thought so. But I just wasn’t sure. I was delighted that she had forgone the bikini bottoms, but the apron confused me.

“Bacon and eggs for breakfast?” she asked me over her shoulder.

I nodded. Ah, I thought to myself, now the apron made sense. I wouldn’t want hot bacon grease near my tender parts either.

She smiled and turned back to face the stove. My mind was racing again. To settle it, I decided to make small talk. Unfortunately, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

“How do you cook bacon without an apron?” How dumb was that?!

“You don’t,” she responded with a laugh.

So much for small talk.

As she finished cooking, she told me to have a seat, which I quickly did. She poured a glass of juice and set it before me on the table. When she returned from the stove, she stood on the other side of the table for a second and looked at me seriously.

“Paul,” she said simply and paused. “Did you enjoy yesterday?” she asked.

My confusion must’ve been evident on my face, but I nodded decidedly.

“Can I trust you not to tell anyone about it?”

I nodded again. Even if I wanted to tell someone, who’d believe me?

She studied my face for a few seconds, looking into my eyes and gauging my reaction.

“Good.”

She set the plate of food in front of me. It was only then that I noticed that she had left her plate on the counter.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

“Mmm hmm,” she said, removing her apron and seating herself across from me. “In a minute. Go ahead and start.”

I frowned in thought for a moment, but then picked up my fork and began to eat. I had only taken a few bites when she announced that it was time for her to eat her breakfast and stood up gracefully. I looked up at her and waited for her to turn to the counter to get her plate. When she didn’t, my confusion deepened.

“Don’t get up from the table,” she said, reading my expression. “Just relax and enjoy your breakfast.”

With that, she pulled her chair to the side, sank to her knees, and disappeared under the table. It was only a moment before I felt the warmth of her touch, spreading my knees apart. In a second, I felt her hot breath on my soft penis. A microsecond after that, I was fully erect.

She wrapped her lips around my swollen cock and began gently sucking. My breakfast forgotten, I concentrated on the feeling of her mouth on my dick. She was stroking my penis with her lips and tongue, and it was having the desired effect. She sucked me like that for perhaps three or four minutes, in and out, in and out, caressing the soft skin of my cock with the equally soft skin of her lips, and the insistent strength and heat of her tongue.

Finally, I could stand no more, and felt myself begin to come. Jets of semen shot from my penis and waves of pleasure flowed over me. When I finished coming, my penis softened slightly and I felt the coolness of the air-conditioned kitchen on my dick as she withdrew her mouth.

I sat there speechless as she reappeared at the other end of the table. As she stood and turned to look at me, she smiled a bright smile, a self-satisfied smile.

“You didn’t finish your breakfast,” she chided me. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.”

I could only stare at her, astonished and excited at the same time, as she began to clean up my cold and forgotten breakfast. She was grinning wryly the whole time.

We worked hard in the garage that morning. Aunt Susan backed her station wagon out into the sandy drive so we could work on the concrete slab floor. The past few days, we’d been working outside, and while it was still hot, at least there had been a breeze to cool us. Not so in the garage.

With no wind to cool us, it was hot. And dusty. And did I mention it was hot? While it wasn’t hard work, per se, we soon built up a sweat. We had pulled roughly half the boxes off the shelves on the side of the garage and had them scattered on the floor in short order. I would pull boxes off the shelves, and Aunt Susan would open them, sort through the contents, and repack things in some extra boxes she’d kept for just that purpose. Once she closed and labeled a box, I would heave it back onto a shelf.

The work was fairly easy, and we talked while we worked. I learned that her oldest son Kirk was in his Second Class summer at the US Naval Academy. His entire summer was being spent experiencing every aspect of what the Navy and Marine Corps had to offer. Like his father, however, he already had his sights set on Naval Aviation. I could tell that Aunt Susan was very proud of him. Listening to her talk, I was proud that I even knew him.

Her younger son, Doug, had not opted for a career in the military. He was spending the summer in Austin, Texas. He was living with friends of the family and working as an intern for a large electronics company before beginning college at the University of Texas. I could tell that she was very proud of Doug too. She was happy they were both living the lives they wanted, but I could also see that she missed them tremendously.

Thinking about them, and their absence, made her a little melancholy. So I tried to change the subject.

“How did you end up running a nudist camp?” I asked.

“I took over when my father died.”

Boy, did I know how to brighten up the conversation or what?!

“He died when the boys were ten and twelve,” she said. “It hadn’t been quite two years since Jack was killed, and I really didn’t know what to do.” She paused for a moment, and I saw tears fill her eyes.

I felt her emotions, and ached to comfort her, but I was still unsure of myself.

“My mother died when I was much younger, right after Doug was born, so my dad and the boys were all I had left. We’d all come to the camp when Jack was still alive, but I hadn’t been back since he was shot down.

“Anyway, when Dad died, he left a trust fund for the boys, and for me. He knew he was dying,” she paused and collected her thoughts, blinking back her tears. “It was liver cancer, and he set things up so we’d all be taken care of. All I had left were Kirk and Doug, and this place,” she looked up at me, unshed tears in her eyes. “So the boys and I moved here.”

I let the conversation end there, not trusting myself not to make things worse than I already had.

By lunchtime, we’d gotten nearly halfway through one side of the garage. Not working on the ladder, which I’d retrieved from where we’d left it the night before, we had little opportunity to be in close proximity. And since I already had one orgasm that morning, my penis was relatively cooperative.

I was putting the repacked boxes back on the shelf and Aunt Susan was sorting through a few of the boxes I’d set out a minute before when I heard her gasp. I swiftly set the box I carried on a shelf and turned to see what was the matter. I quickly looked around, but didn’t see anything. Then I realized that she was looking down into the box she had just opened.

My imagination kicked into overdrive and I rushed over, expecting to bravely save her from a spider or some other creepy-crawly. When I got there however, I looked down into the box in bewilderment. The only things there were photo albums!

Aunt Susan reached into the box and pulled the top album out and slowly opened its cover. She looked up when she sensed my presence and gestured for me to sit on a low stool beside her.

When I sat down, I could see that the photos in the album were fairly old. With a start, I recognized the clubhouse. I could clearly tell that the black and white picture had been taken many years before, but it was the same clubhouse that was the center of life in the camp. There were pictures of people too, nudists from the ‘50s.

As she turned the pages, I got to see what life was like at the camp twenty years before. There was no playground, and only one row of motel-style buildings across from the clubhouse. And it seemed a lot more open. The trees and bushes had grown quite a bit since the pictures were taken.

There was even a series of pictures showing bulldozers and workmen digging out and then finishing the swimming lake. I took it for granted that the lake had always been there, despite the fact that I knew it wasn’t natural. But seeing before and after photos, not to mention construction photos, drove the point home.

When we finished the first album, she reached into the box and pulled out the next one. It was obviously a family album. The first picture was of a couple with a young girl, perhaps my sister’s age. Aunt Susan sucked in her breath and held her hand to her mouth. Then she smiled.

I looked at her, then at the picture, wondering who the people were. (Like I said, sometimes I’m pretty slow on the uptake.)

She pointed to the man in the picture; a tall, handsome man with dark hair. “This is my father, this is my mother, and this is me,” she said, pointing to each figure in turn.

I looked at the hand-written caption under the picture: Summer 1955.

Suddenly, she laughed; it was a quick, magical laugh, and completely unexpected.

“I thought I’d never get my breasts!”

The girl in the picture was still slim and flat-chested. I did some quick mental math and realized that she must’ve been about fifteen when it was taken.

“You did,” I said, stating the obvious with a sage nod.

She laughed again and looked at me, “You think?!”

She elbowed me in the side, and put both albums back in the box. Standing up, she asked me to bring the box with us. I followed her as she headed out of the stuffy garage and into the courtyard. We entered the kitchen and she told me to put the box on the table.

“I want to rinse off before lunch,” she said.

I merely nodded.

“I’ll go get the towels and meet you outside.”

Back outside, I turned on the shower and stepped under the cold spray, relieved to wash the sweat and grime of the garage off my skin. A minute later, Aunt Susan hung up the towels and stepped onto the tiles of the shower. She handed me the comb from yesterday as I stepped aside to let her rinse herself.

Once she had thoroughly rinsed off and then wet her hair, she asked me to comb it. I obediently stepped into the spray behind her, blocking it with my shoulders, and began to comb her wet hair.

She leaned her head back and simply enjoyed the feeling for a few moments. Then she took a small step backward. I felt the heat of her body, and my penis started to rise. She arched her back a little and thrust her ass backward, making contact with my swelling dick.

As with the day before, my penis was nestled between her cheeks. And also like the day before, I quickly reached full erection. Unlike the day before, however, she didn’t step forward immediately.

Instead, she wiggled.

She turned to look over her shoulder at me and smiled. With a mischievous wink, she bent forward at the waist. The feeling, to my young senses, was amazing. I felt my cock rubbing against the smooth slit of her pussy, and it felt like my dick got harder still, if that were possible.

She rocked forward and back, rubbing herself with my manhood. To my astonishment, she reached back with her right hand and grasped my penis. She slid forward again and I stood transfixed.

I felt her manipulate my dick, and then I felt the most wonderful feeling in the world. She slowly rocked back and I felt her heat and tightness surround my dick. I was inside her! I nearly lost my balance the feeling was so intense.

As I felt her ass press against my thighs, she groaned, my dick buried to the hilt in her pussy. She began rocking her hips back and forth, pulling away and then impaling herself on me again.

As she sped the tempo and power of her rocking, I was nearly knocked backward. I instinctively reached out and grasped her hips. She groaned again, so I knew I was doing something right, even if it was simply providing a hard dick and holding on.

The feeling of my virgin dick plowing into her pussy was indescribable. Technically, I might not have been a virgin, but I didn’t know if a couple of blowjobs counted. Now, however, I had no doubts. I was fucking Aunt Susan. In reality, she was fucking me!

Feeling my hands on her hips, she put her own hands on her knees and began to really thrust against me. I started pulling myself forward with each thrust, and soon, our wet bodies were pounding against each other.

Unfortunately, I didn’t last long.

I felt my imminent eruption welling up inside me. With one final thrust, I held her ass tight against my hips, straining to get more of my dick inside her. With a rush, I began to come. I felt my dick swell as the spurts coursed through my shaft, filling her full of my semen. Spurt after spurt pumped into her and I felt her pussy quiver around my dick.

Susan groaned as she felt my spasms. I closed my eyes so tightly that I saw stars when I opened them again after my orgasm had subsided. I realized that in the throes of pleasure, I had tightened my grip on her hips, and I relaxed my hands.

We stayed like that, Susan bent over in front of me with my dick buried in her pussy, for a minute more, letting the cold water wash over us as we caught our breath.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she eased forward, and with an almost electric jolt, my penis came out of her pussy. Susan stood up and turned, only to drop to her knees in front of me. She opened her mouth and eagerly licked my still-hard shaft. As I slowly got soft, she cleaned my penis with her lips and tongue. She was able to get me entirely in her mouth as I shrank, and I marveled at the pleasant sensations.