Chapter 3

The next morning, Mom once again made sure that I was awake in time to get to Aunt Susan’s for breakfast. While Mom was in the bathroom, I quietly opened my dresser drawer and extracted a pair of red shorts. I quickly rolled them up, said goodbye to Mom through the bathroom door, and bolted out the screen door, letting it slam shut behind me (Erin wasn’t going to sleep in if I could help it!).

All the way down the hill and past the clubhouse, I carefully schooled my thoughts, focusing on mundane subjects. I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s near-continuous erection.

When I entered the courtyard, I saw through the kitchen door window that the lights were on and Aunt Susan was already moving about. I opened the screen door and knocked gently on the glass. Aunt Susan turned from the stove and waved for me to enter. Much to my dismay, she was wearing a pair of bikini bottoms.

She greeted me with a smile, and used the spatula she held in one hand to point to the roll of red cloth I clutched.

“What’s that?” she asked good-naturedly.

I let the shorts unroll from my hand and held them up for her to see. As soon as she recognized the shorts, she laughed. Her lighthearted laughter was at my expense, but it wasn’t mean. She turned back to the stove quickly, scooped something out of the pan, and set it on the plate next to her.

That done, she turned to face me, still grinning. She came around the kitchen table to where I was standing just inside the door. She put her hand out, took the shorts from my grasp, and met my eyes.

“I think we’ll be fine without these,” she said lightly, pointing toward her bikini bottoms. “You don’t have to spend the day working around my ... nakedness,” she said with a wink.

I blushed, but returned her grin. She set the shorts on the counter and returned to the stove. She then picked up two plates of french toast and sausage links, and set them on the table. She pointed to the drawer containing the silverware, which I opened while she poured glasses of milk.

We ate our breakfast and talked about what we needed to do that day. In the morning, we planned to transplant storm-damaged plants into new pots and move them to the courtyard. After lunch, we would tackle the fiberglass roofing over the back patio.

After we finished breakfast and cleaned the dishes, we headed out to the courtyard to begin transplanting.

We spent most of the morning on our knees. When we weren’t digging by the side of the courtyard or the house, we were in the courtyard itself, putting potting soil in pots and filling them with flowers and plants. It wasn’t especially hard work, but it certainly was dirty. By the time lunchtime rolled around, we were both covered in dirt. But all the plants she wanted to move were moved, and Aunt Susan headed inside to fetch two towels.

When she returned, she hung the towels on the dowels set into the wall of the house and bent to strip off her bikini bottoms. She stepped onto the terra-cotta tiles and turned on the water. She moved into the spray and gasped as the cold water rushed over her. While she rinsed off her front, holding her feet under the water, I prayed not to get an erection.

When Aunt Susan turned to face me, tilted her head back into the stream of cold water, and raised her arms to smooth her hair back, I lost it. The sights of her raised and water-slick breasts—her nipples fully erect from the cold—and her smooth pussy were more than enough to demolish any self-control I might have hoped to maintain. With a groan, I felt my penis jerk and stiffen, becoming fully erect in a matter of moments.

She stepped out of the flow of water and ran her hands over her hair, wringing out the cold water, and opened her eyes to look at me. At my guilty, embarrassed expression, her eyes dropped to my stiff cock. She didn’t say anything as she raised her eyes to my own and then smiled sympathetically.

When she stepped to the side to retrieve her towel and I stepped into the water she’d left running, she turned and said, “I hope the cold water does you some good.”

With a teasing chuckle, she began to dry off. The water was shockingly cold, but it felt good washing off the dirt and grime of our morning’s exertions. As I turned to rinse my back, I watched Aunt Susan bend over to dry her legs. I paused for a second to appreciate her upturned ass, and then let my eyes drift lower, to where her shaved pussy lips protruded between the tops of her thighs. I could clearly see the shape of her labia, and thought I could see her inner lips peeking out. The cold water did little to discourage my erection, especially as I stared at Aunt Susan’s round white ass and smooth pussy.

I realized with a start, however, that she was no longer drying her legs. With panic verging on terror, I realized she was looking back at me, still bent over. Our eyes met and I knew she must have realized what I had been looking at only a moment before.

And then she winked at me!

I accidentally inhaled a mouthful of water and sputtered, trying to catch my breath. When I finally stopped coughing, she was laughing and wrapping the towel around her head. She stood up, still laughing, and without a backward glance walked into the kitchen.

I stood stock-still and tried to think of what to do. I was mortified at being caught looking at her pussy. I stood in the stream of cold water, oblivious to its chill, and wondered what I was going to say to her. And then it dawned on me that she had stood still, bent over, for several seconds after she had finished drying her legs. When she caught me looking at her, she was simply waiting, as if on display.

The realization came crashing over me. She wanted me to look!

Despite the fact that I fervently wanted to jerk off right there in the cold water of the shower, I was too exposed. At any time, Aunt Susan could come to see what was keeping me, and I wasn’t ready for that kind of exhibition yet.

I shut off the cold water and quickly toweled off. As I dried my hair, my mind was still awhirl, trying to rationalize the past few minutes. I ran my fingers through my damp hair, hung the towel on a peg, and headed for the kitchen door.

When I stepped into the chill of the air conditioning, Aunt Susan, still completely nude, was at the counter making sandwiches.

She turned at the sound of my entrance, “How do bologna and cheese sandwiches sound?”

“Uh ... fine,” I said in bewilderment. She was acting as if the whole episode from a few minutes before simply hadn’t happened. I quickly decided that if she weren’t going to say anything about me staring at her pussy, then I wasn’t going to either. I was embarrassed enough as it was. But at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder why she’d done it.

After we finished lunch, we cleaned the dishes and headed back out to the courtyard.

“Since the ‘cat is out of the bag,’ so to speak,” she said, grinning at her own double entendre, “I’m just going to leave the bikini off.”

I blushed, and my erection throbbed.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked mischievously, grinning at me.

I was at a loss for words, and she laughed again, obviously enjoying my strangled expression as she headed back outside.

Once there, we went around the house to the back patio. There were two wood four-by-fours holding up the frame of her patio roof. The other end of the frame was anchored to the roof of the house. Before the storm, it had been covered with green corrugated fiberglass panels. Almost half of them had been blown off and were strewn about the yard and the forest beyond.

We surveyed the scene and decided to go retrieve the missing panels before getting the ladder. It took us almost two hours to find them all. Some of them were near the patio, but the majority of them had been blown further, caught like sails in the winds of the storm. In the end, we found all but one.

When we had them stacked against the house, we walked back to the garage (it was a detached building to the left of the walled courtyard) to retrieve the ladder. I carried it around to the patio and extended it up into the patio roof rafters, now devoid of most of the top cover. As I set the ladder’s feet on the ground and leaned it against the wood of the rafter, Aunt Susan motioned me around to the back of the ladder.

“You hold the ladder while I go up and check things out,” she directed.

I did as I was told. As she climbed the ladder, to get her head above the level of the remaining panels, her slit was directly in front of me. I enjoyed a close-up view of her smooth pussy. As she swiveled her head above me, looking over the damaged roof, I held the ladder in both hands and studied her hairless lips from less than a foot away.

From that close, I could clearly see that her outer lips were held slightly apart by the inner lips, which were peeking out. They were smooth and fair, and my erect cock bobbed due to the proximity of Aunt Susan’s exotic womanhood. I stared at the breathtaking view and completely lost track of time.

After what seemed like forever, but was probably no more than a few seconds, I felt the ladder shift. I looked up just in time to see her leaning out to the left, holding on to the ladder with only her right hand.

“Grab the chair over there, Paul,” she said, as she looked down at me and pointed with her extended toe, “and slide it over so I can put my foot on it.”

I located the chair she had indicated, and stretched out one hand to drag it closer.

“That’s fine,” she said when it was located to her satisfaction.

When she saw that I had both hands firmly back on the ladder, steadying it for her, she released her grip with her left hand and stretched her left leg out. She looked down to position her left foot on the back of the chair and when she was satisfied that it wasn’t going anywhere, she shifted her weight.

I looked up to see what she was looking at. Her head was above the level of the roof and she craned her neck to look beyond where an upraised panel had blocked her view of the remainder of the roof panels. When I looked back down, however, my eyes froze.

There, not more than a foot and a half away, her hairless pussy was spread wide before me. Her outer lips had parted, and I could see her inner lips quite clearly. I realized that the skin of her labia wasn’t white, it was actually a delicate pink, and the folds of her darker pink inner lips spread before me. I could clearly see the hood of her clit (although at the time, I didn’t know what it was), and the darker entrance to her vagina. Her pussy looked exactly like a flower, spread open before me.

I stood enraptured, captivated by the sight of her marvelous pussy. The only thing that saved me from being caught looking at her spread womanhood was the fact that she began to move before she looked back down. I tore my eyes from the incredibly arousing sight in front of me and looked up at her face. When she looked down to make sure she had her balance, and to make sure her foot made it to the right rung on the ladder, her eyes met mine and she smiled.

My smile was genuine, knowing how narrowly I’d avoided detection. Her eyes slid away from mine and then she looked down. When her gaze returned to mine, she arched her eyebrow in silent question. I tried to keep the smug look off my face, but from her knowing (and wry) expression, I don’t think I was that successful.

She climbed down the ladder and we repositioned it so I could take a look at the roof. I moved the table and chairs so we could move the ladder over a bit to reposition it against the adjacent beam, facing the other direction. Aunt Susan steadied the ladder as I climbed it.

I made sure to keep my hips back so my recently rekindled erection didn’t scrape against the ladder rungs. When my head cleared the top of the rafters, I looked down to make sure my dick wasn’t aimed at a rung, and then I flattened myself against the cool metal of the ladder.

I surveyed the storm damage. Many of the fiberglass panels we’d retrieved had simply been ripped off the nails, leaving jagged holes. The remaining panels were fairly battered as well, holding on to the roof with dogged tenacity, but still quite a bit worse for the wear.

I was about to push back from the ladder when I felt a cool breeze over my penis, ruffling my pubic hair. I froze—I hadn’t felt the breeze anywhere else. At that moment, a horrible yet incredibly arousing thought occurred to me. Aunt Susan’s pussy had been only a foot in front of me when she was on the ladder. My stiff penis, poking through the ladder rungs, must be mere inches in front of her. The thought aroused me tremendously at the same time that it embarrassed me. My buttocks involuntarily clenched and I could feel my penis bob in response.

I pushed back from the ladder and looked down, straight into the laughing blue eyes of Aunt Susan. I was dumbfounded. I stared at her blankly, not knowing how to react. The smug look that she gave me, however, said it all.

I hurriedly climbed down the ladder, my erection bobbing with each step I took, until I was standing back on terra firma.

“What do you think?” she asked me.

What did I think about what? About the roof, or about her blowing air at my cock from only a few inches away? I decided to go with the more obvious of the two possible questions.

“It looks like we’ll have to replace most of the panels,” I said, feigning cluelessness about the air on my dick. She smiled at my obvious discomfort, teasing me. I continued steadfastly, “I’m pretty sure we can re-nail the ones we have, but the ones torn up by the storm will just leak.”

She nodded, serious again. “That’s what I thought too. I think we should just pull down the remaining panels and then leave things the way they are. Dwight and Karen will be here soon, and he usually brings his tool belt to help me fix things around the house.”

Dwight Delozier was a carpenter, and usually did minor repairs around the camp when he and his family arrived. I pictured him in my mind, seeing him in his tool belt, safety glasses, and tennis shoes (it was a funny outfit, but when he was working at the camp, they were the only things he wore). Dwight was a very large man, several inches over six feet, with powerful shoulders, the beginnings of a potbelly, and a very large dick. When he or his kids weren’t around, the kids called him Dwight Donkey-dick. His wife Karen was a petite brunette, shorter than my mother and much slimmer, with small, round breasts. They had a daughter Erin’s age, and a son several years younger.

I would be more than content to let Dwight put up the new panels over the patio. It would be hard enough work taking the remaining ones down. I nodded my agreement.

“I’ll go get a mallet so you can remove the remaining panels,” Aunt Susan said as I began shifting the ladder into a new position.

As it turned out, it was easier to remove the panels than I’d first thought. While Aunt Susan steadied the ladder for me, I simply climbed up, leaned out a little, and banged on the bottom of the panels. The overstressed fiberglass popped off the nails easily, and within an hour, we had the remaining panels stacked neatly against the house.

While I had been on the ladder, however, Aunt Susan had quietly tormented me. As I concentrated on striking the panels squarely, my erection flagged. Whenever my penis started to droop, I’d feel a puff of cool air on my dick, and it would quickly become fully erect. The first time it happened, I was startled, and tried to ignore it. The next time it happened, I stuck my head out to the side and looked down at Aunt Susan. She met my gaze and returned it, a look of perfect innocence on her face. Her eyes, however, were laughing, teasing me. For the next hour, every time I began to lose my erection, I felt a puff of cool air wash over my cock and balls. My penis would bob and jerk back to stiffness, and I’d continue to work, pretending not to notice.

When I climbed down for the last time, she looked at me, smiling teasingly, and helped me retract the ladder. We walked back to the garage in silence and I stored the ladder.

It was not quite five, and we decided to quit for the day. She prepared some lemonade and we relaxed for a few minutes in the wrought-iron chairs in the courtyard.

“If you’d like, you can use the hall bathroom to ‘wash up’ before you meet your Mom for dinner,” she said innocently, teasing me with her eyes.

She and I both knew what I’d be doing in the hall bathroom, but her manner was lighthearted. I nodded in agreement, took a last swallow of my lemonade, and made for the door into the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her eyes follow my hard dick as it bobbed before me, leading the way.

Once in the bathroom, I grabbed a couple of Kleenex and wrapped my fingers around the length of my shaft. I thought of Aunt Susan’s spread pussy as I stood underneath her, and in no time, I felt the first spurts of white-hot sperm jet from the tip of my prick. I caught the thick, white semen in the tissue, leaning my head back and moaning at the feeling of release.

As with the day before, my dick was still very hard once my ejaculation dwindled to a dribble. I cleaned myself and leaned back against the bathroom wall to catch my breath. I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time. My face was flushed with exertion, my breathing was heavy, and my jutting prick had oozed a pearl of come from the tip. I wiped away the droplet and released my manhood.

I waited about ten or fifteen minutes, and still my erection didn’t subside. So I took another handful of tissues and began slowly stroking the thick base of my dick. The second time, I actually enjoyed masturbating. It wasn’t the lust-driven mad dash that I’d performed as soon as I’d gotten the door shut. I stroked and squeezed myself, leaning back against the wallpaper and closing my eyes, imagining Aunt Susan bent over in front of me.

Despite the fact that I’d come only a short time earlier, the images flashing through my imagination quickly had me on the path to another climax. With a final jerk, I felt my legs and back tense up and semen began to gush from my dick. My orgasm was less powerfully intense than the first one, but no less pleasurable.

When I had cleaned myself up, I found that once again, I had to pee. When I finished urinating, I washed my hands and took a moment to study myself in the mirror. I was still the same pudgy fifteen-year-old I’d been yesterday morning, but the events of the past two days had opened my eyes in many ways. I paused for a moment to reflect on what I’d seen and done in the last forty-eight hours, and I marveled at it all.

I shook off my reverie, however, and returned to the present. Once again, my poor cock was shiny and red, but at least it was flaccid. I opened the door, flicked off the light, and stepped into the hall.

No sooner had I stepped out than I looked to my right as I heard a movement. I saw Aunt Susan emerge from her bedroom, and in the dim light of the hallway, she looked a little flustered. She gestured for me to precede her to the kitchen, which I did.

In the light of the kitchen, I turned to her to say goodbye for the day. I stopped when I saw her. She was breathing a little heavily, and her face and chest were flushed. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and as my eyes flicked over her body, I could see that her hairless pussy lips were puffy and slightly pink. Her slit was open slightly, and the folds of her inner lips were poking through the outer lips a tiny bit.

When she saw my glance, she said, “Same time tomorrow?” as lightheartedly as she could.

I could only nod, holding her eyes with my own. She grinned at me, tilted her head to the side, and shrugged slightly. I brought my hand up and waved to her silently.

“I’ll see you then. Good night,” she said quietly.

I nodded silently, picked up my shorts, and turned for the door. I wanted to shower before dinner, and as the implications of what had just happened sunk in, I thought I might want to jerk off a third time.

The next morning, I arrived just as Aunt Susan was starting to fix breakfast. I knocked on the kitchen door and she motioned me in. The very first thing I noticed was that she wasn’t wearing her bikini bottoms.

“Ham and cheese omelets okay with you?” she asked, looking at me over her shoulder.

I nodded vigorously, smiling. I dropped my eyes to her bare ass, then lifted them back to her face, raising my eyebrows in a silent question.

She looked down over her shoulder at her bare cheeks, then back up at me, and shrugged. “I didn’t see the point,” she said with feigned innocence and smiled. “Besides,” she said, nodding to indicate my as-yet-flaccid penis, “I don’t want to disappoint my loyal admirer.”

Her eyes twinkled as she teased me, and I simply grinned and nodded at her. My, I thought to myself, what a long way we’ve come in only a few days!

She fixed one big omelet and cut it in half, adding toast to each plate and pouring glasses of orange juice. As we ate, we talked about what needed to be done that day.

Our last major task was to clear the roof and fix the gutters. Many small branches, as well as several larger ones, had fallen onto the roof. A couple of them had also damaged the gutters in several places. Most of the ones that had damaged the gutters had fallen to the ground (and we’d picked them up the first day), but there were still a fair number of branches and other storm debris to clear from the roof itself.

We decided that it would probably be best for me to climb the ladder, clean and fix the guttering, and then get up onto the roof after lunch to throw down the branches. I decided to run back to our cabin to get my sneakers after breakfast, so I wouldn’t hurt my feet on the rough shingles of the roof.

We finished breakfast, and as Aunt Susan began to clear the dishes, I dashed back to our cabin. I rummaged in my dresser drawer for a pair of socks, grabbed my shoes, and banged out the screen door, headed back to Aunt Susan’s.

When I returned, I found her waiting for me. She was sitting at the wrought-iron table in the courtyard, with the heavy work gloves, a hammer, and box of nails. I headed to the garage to withdraw the ladder, and we got to work.

We quickly established a routine: we would set the ladder, she would steady it from underneath, and I would climb up and clear the gutters. When a piece of guttering needed repair, she would hand me the hammer and box of nails, and I would re-secure the guttering to the edge of the roof. Our system worked well, and I was thankful that I was too busy to think about sex.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last long. About half an hour after we started working, I felt a gentle breeze on my flaccid penis. I felt it twitch in response, but firmly held my imagination in check. I then felt the direction of the air change. It came from underneath my penis, washing over my balls and the underside of my dick. I was bound and determined not to cave in to Aunt Susan’s teasing, however, and tightly controlled my thoughts.

I felt a rush of triumph that I didn’t rise to her baiting. By the time lunchtime rolled around, we had finished clearing the gutters and repaired the damaged sections—my penis was still thankfully flaccid.

But in the process of clearing out the gutters, both she and I had gotten quite a bit of pine needle debris on us. Try as hard as I might, I still managed to drop a few clumps of pine needles down on her while she was steadying the ladder beneath me. There were bits and pieces of twigs and pine needles in her hair and on her shoulders. I’d also gotten quite a bit on my arms and shoulders, so we decided to shower before she fixed lunch.

When we reached the courtyard, she gestured for me to shower while she went into the house to fetch towels. I turned on the water, and was once again shocked by the coldness when I began rinsing gutter debris from my arms and shoulders. I had just leaned back and closed my eyes, savoring the stinging needles of cold water, when I heard Aunt Susan come out of the house. (I know it’s hard to believe, but work outside in a South Carolina summer some time, and see if you don’t enjoy a good cold shower when you’re done.)

I turned to see her hang two towels on the pegs set into the wall. Then she stepped under the water with me and handed me a large-toothed comb that she’d brought along. She was very close and I stepped back involuntarily. When I did, the spray hit her on the chest and I watched her nipples instantly stiffen. She sucked in her breath at the water temperature, but let the water cascade over her face and down her chest.

She got her front entirely wet and then spun around to wash off her back and shoulders. Finally, she tilted her head back and wet her hair in the stream of cold water.

She looked back at me, over her shoulder. “Would you run the comb through my hair to get the snippets out, please,” she asked, and waited for my response.

When I nodded dumbly, she turned her head back to face away from me and stepped back toward me, into the water. I raised the comb and began gently drawing it through her hair. As I slowly dragged it through her hair, she stepped back about six inches. She was already very close to me, and when she stepped back, it was enough to bring the smooth, warm flesh of her ass into contact with my penis.

The contact jolted me like an electric shock, and my prick stiffened instantly. My hard cock nestled between the cheeks of her ass, and I stepped back involuntarily. I found myself pressed against the wall and the water handle. The movement only afforded me a little latitude, however, and the tip of my penis was still pressed against her flesh. I was rooted to the spot, and didn’t know what to do. Finally, she stepped forward a little to get out of the spray and looked over her shoulder at me, grinning impishly. She then turned and held out her hand for the comb, which I eagerly handed over.

Aunt Susan then turned around again, with her back to me, and got her hair wet again. Trapped as I was between her and the wall of the house, I could only watch when she took a small step forward and slung her hair over her head as she bent forward. A spray of water droplets struck me in the chest and face as she flung her hair up and over.

She began running the comb through her hair, to remove any remaining tidbits, and I swallowed hard. I looked down at the hourglass figure of her back and the flare of her hips as her alabaster ass poised a mere inch or two in front of my turgid penis. I dared not move, since I could feel the heat of her body warming the tip of my penis. When I looked down, my erection was pointed right at her pussy, basking in the warmth radiating from between her legs.

Although I couldn’t see her face, I could tell that she knew exactly where she had pinned me, and exactly what my reaction would be. In a minute or so, she finished combing her hair and slowly stood up, swung her damp tresses over her shoulder, and turned. She stepped forward so the spray was hitting her between her breasts, and looked up at my face.

“All done?” she asked sweetly, acting completely oblivious to the situation a moment before and ignoring my raging hard on.

I gulped and nodded mutely.

She stepped forward and reached around behind me to turn off the shower. Once again, I could feel the warmth of her body as her breasts nearly touched my stomach. Her arm did touch me where she had reached behind me to turn the water off. The contact was electric, and she held my eyes while she turned the handle. When the water trickled to a stop, she smiled up at me innocently and withdrew her arm.

She stepped to the side and tossed me a towel, grabbing her own with her other hand. We dried off in silence, my erection pulsing as she repeated yesterday’s maneuver, bending forward to dry her hair. With more separation between us, I had an unobstructed view of her shaved pussy lips, and once again, I took the bait. I already had an erection, why not enjoy the view?

She fixed hotdogs for lunch, and we ate in relative silence, at the table in the courtyard.

My erection didn’t disappoint me, or evidently her, the entire time. Treacherous organ!

After we finished lunch, I put my socks and shoes on, and we headed back out to the ladder.

It was a simple matter for me to climb onto the roof, and once there, I put on my work gloves and started gathering the smaller branches. I would toss the branches down, being careful to make sure I missed Aunt Susan, and she would collect them and take them around back to our burn pile.

After about an hour’s work, I had all but the three largest branches cleared. Two of them were about the size of my forearm at the base, but one monster was about six inches in diameter, with smaller branches coming off it at all angles. I was surprised that the big branch didn’t do any permanent damage when it hit.

I decided to drag the largest branch over to the edge of the house and threw it down first. Then I brought over the two smaller ones and tossed them down with the larger one. I made sure Aunt Susan was out of the way as I heaved the largest branch off the roof. I could barely lift the beast because it was so awkward, but I finally managed to get enough of it over the edge of the roof that it simply levered itself off. The two smaller branches were easier, but still no picnic.