Chapter 4

I was at a loose end; Mum wasn’t really talking to me after the events of the past weekend; in her eyes, I went too far. Having three mates come around and shag her stupidly is perhaps not the best thing I have ever done. In front of Dad, Mum was just the same as usual. When Dad wasn’t around, she was reserved; answers were a simple yes or no. There was no conversation. She didn’t want to stay in the same room as me.

There were none of her knickers in the laundry basket; I guessed she was keeping them back somewhere and washing them when I wasn’t around. I couldn’t get any of her knickers to sniff whilst I wanked. She had even been in my room and taken back the one pair I had. Yeah, she was really doing a number on me.

I was struggling to know what to do; perhaps Dad’s older sister, Aunt Maureen, could help. Maureen was a bit older than Dad, so probably over twenty-five years older than me. She had three daughters, Amelia, Bianca and Cleopatra, all a little older than me. Maureen had caught with Amelia when she was fifteen and had married Uncle Jack just after her sixteenth birthday. Bianca and Cleopatra arrived soon after.

Uncle Jack hung around for a few years; I remember meeting him, but then he vanished. Mum told me that he had messed with a young girl, too young, and the girl’s dad had roughed him up. He vanished just after that. Mum and the girls survived on benefits and lived in supported housing just on the other side of town. It was only one bus ride away, but it was a long bus ride, over an hour – boring, or what? I decided that I would have to give it a try on Saturday.

I managed to get a look at Mum’s phone while she was on the loo, and I found Maureen’s mobile number. I added it to my phone and thought long and hard about the text I needed to send.

‘Aunty M, can I come and see you sat morning. Need advice; have screwed up with Mum. XX Mik.’

I had no idea if that would illicit a response; apparently Aunt Maureen didn’t really get on with the family. I suppose they hadn’t been as much help to her as she needed. We had seen her a few times; I remember that Bianca, her middle daughter, had huge boobs. She had let me grab a feel, but family kept milling around, and I never managed to get more than a quick feel of tit flesh.

‘of course Mik come when you like’ was the response I got.

The buses were on the Saturday schedule, every half an hour rather than the usual fifteen minutes on the weekdays. Luckily a bus arrived just after I got to the bus stop; it was a double-decker. We usually got single-deckers on the weekend. I was sitting on one of the sideways seats downstairs.

A woman was sat opposite, perhaps a little younger than Mum. Her blouse was a bit too tight over her boobs. I didn’t mind that, of course, nor did I object to the occasional flashes of white knickers that were tightly stretched across her fanny. I am not stupid, and rather than stare at her tits or fanny, I used the camera on my phone. To all intents and purposes I was just looking at my phone; in reality I was recording some wanking material for later.

Eventually the bus arrived at Aunt Maureen’s stop. As I got off, the woman opposite smiled at me. I wonder if she realised what I had been doing. It was about a five-minute walk to Aunt Maureen’s, and just as I arrived at her front door, the rain started. I stood in her little porch waiting for the door to open.

“Come in, come in,” Aunt Maureen gushed as she opened the door. “Let me look at you; you are so grown up.”

I stepped in and skirted past her. My dick was of course rock hard, and I didn’t want to brush it against her. She was wearing a strappy top and a short skirt. That didn’t help the dick situation; from what I could see, there was no bra. I could only guess about the knickers.

“Come on, give me a hug,” she said, coming at me with her arms outstretched. I tried to flex my hips backwards, but it was a waste of time. She crushed herself against me, and my hard dick pressed against her. I felt her pushing back with her pelvis. She knew; I could tell that she knew.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I’m alright for now, Auntie,” I said.

“Oh, goodness, stop with the Auntie; I am Maureen, or ‘Reen’.”

“Okay, Reen, yes.”