Aunt Polly Ch. 1

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It was wintertime 1941. I was eighteen, tall, thin and shy around girls. I would graduate from high school in the spring.

Aunt Polly, one of those ageless women, had a solid, mature beauty about her. She had one of those bodies that had mellowed without growing soft. She harbored a genteel sensuality belying her age that often twitted the curiosity of this eighteen year old though I would have never had the nerve to try anything her sidewalk. From the year I got my driver’s license, I started driving her places, in her perfect condition ’39 Pontiac, to the store for groceries, to church meetings, and any other place she needed to go. She always paid me though I protested it was not necessary.

Aunt Polly had probably reached her mid-fifties. She dressed nicely and applied only enough makeup to appear attractive without overdoing it. Except for being a bit on the hippy side, which I counted a plus, she was compactly but nicely built. A devout church goer, Aunt Polly, attended services most Sundays and occasionally went to prayer meeting on Wednesday night. She did not like driving in bad weather or at night so I drove her to those evening meetings and picked her up later for which she usually handed me a dollar.

It was late February and snowing. She called right after supper and asked if I would be willing to drive her to church that night. Of course I agreed.

Because of the weather and not knowing how long it might take to walk over, I left early and arrived at her place sooner than expected. Like always, I opened the side door, stomped the snow from my feet at the landing and shouted, “Hello. It’s Jay. Are you ready?”

Hearing no answer, I moved down the hall toward the living room. A light reflected brightly from the open bathroom door.

Aunt Polly, round, naked and shimmery wet, stepped from the tub and reached for a towel. We stood frozen, staring, not knowing what to do. It seemed hours though it was probably but seconds before she thrust the towel in front of her.

I had glimpsed few totally naked women in my young life. I was spellbound. Aunt Polly’s body, inspite of her salt and pepper hair, was absolutely fascinating. Her small breasts were rounded and pointy tipped with very little sag. The large, pinkish-brown nipples, being wet and chilled, extended in excitement. The triangular patch of wet, wiry curls, plastered dark brown, at the base of her belly, also revealed a sprinkling of gray. Her legs were smoothly tapered and the rump I had thought of as hippy projected firmly into two full globes that rounded out to become the nicest part of her.

“I, I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t know you were in the shower.”

Aunt Polly slowly wrapped the towel around her. “I’d appreciate it if yo’d wait in the living room.”‘

“Yes Ma’am. I’m sorry.’

“Couldn’t be helped.” Aunt Polly, sounded far calmer than me.

When she emerged fully dressed and ready to go, our little mishap was not mentioned. As we drove to her church, she tried to keep the conversation going, but we soon talked the weather to death and my school work was covered almost as quickly.

Most of the short ride passed in silence.

I fooled around up town, killing the hour and a half until time to pick her up. I loafed around the Smokery and read magazines off the rack. I kept one eye on Billy Barnes behind the counter so he would not notice me leafing through the latest issue of Sunshine and Health, picturing people of all ages, nudsist camp naked. Checking them out, I found not one photo of an older woman who looked nearly as sharp as Aunt Polly stepping out of that tub. Reliving that scene caused me to throw a boner.

Driving home, our accident obviously weighed on Aunt Polly’s mind. I kept my mouth shut. I had no idea of what to say. We pulled into her garage and I turned off the headlights. She gripped the handle but did not open the car door on her side. We sat there a long time without speaking.

Finally, I said, “Im sorry I barged in on you. I wish it hadn’t happened.”

I barely made out her smile in the darkness. “Do you?”

Aunt Polly was always nice to me. I could not lie. “I thought you were beautiful.”

Her voice was a strangled whisper. “Now did you really?”

“Yes ma’am. I did for a fact.”

She thought about that for a while before asking, “Would you like to come in for a cup of hot chocolate?”

“I’d like that. I don’t want you being mad at me.”

Aunt Polly unlocked her door. “I’m not mad, Jay. What happened, happened.”

She shivered as I closed the door behind her. She turned and allowed me to remove the heavy cloth coat from her shoulders. “You hang the coats. I’ll warm some milk.”

I became aware of her perfume and the feminine softness of her as the coat slid from her shoulders. “All right.”

She poured milk into a pan and lit the gas burner. I went to the hall closet. The milk was soon simmering. She poured it into two big mugs over thick Hershey’s syrup. We moved, with our mugs, to her living room and sat opposite each other, she on the couch, me in the big easy chair.

“Jay, casino siteleri look at me.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“We won’t let one embarassing little incident ruin our friendship.”

“I hope not.”

“Have you seen a naked woman before?”

I nodded. “Sort off.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“It wasn’t something I should have done.”

“You peeked at someone?”

I nodded.

Her voice became confidential. “I won’t tell. Who was it?”

I could not look at her. I mumbled, “My older sister.”

“You saw her naked?”

I nodded


“Through a keyhole in our bathroom.”

“More than once?”

I nodded again.

“I bet that was exciting for you.”

“Sort of.”

“And that’s all?”

“A girl and me. We played If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

Aunt Polly smiled wryly. “I remember that game. Did you enjoy it?”

Lurlene Gargan from Tennessee had been visiting Mrs. Foster across the street. We sneaked up to the barn loft behind our house. “I liked it fine.”

How old were you?” “Twelve or thirteen, someplace around there.”

“Do you like girls.”

I nodded. “I’m too skinny. Most girls don’t want anything to do with me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve always had trouble talking to them. I freeze up.”

“What were you thinking when you saw me?”

“Like I said, I thought you were truly beautiful.”

Aunt Polly smiled. “Would you be very upset if I told you that seeing you could be beautiful for me.”

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“I think so. Would you tell on me if we played that game?”

“You mean showing it?”

“Wouldn’t that would be exciting.”

“You’re kidding.”

Aunt Polly rose, moved to the window. She pulled the drapes, then moved to stand behind my chair. She squeezed my shoulders. Her voice was unsteady. “I’d enjoy, very much, seeing a healthy, young man that way.”

Again I said, “You’re kidding.”

“You saw me, don’t you think that would be fair?”

“Something might happen.”

Aunt Polly sat on my chair arm and draped her arm across my shoulder. “I’d certainly hope so. Something should happen with a healthy, young male.”

“You mean I should get naked, right here?”

She spoke softly. “Of course.”

“Would you be staying dressed?”

“I might be encouraged to join you if you want me to.”

I kicked off my shoes, pulled the sweater over my head and unbuttoned my shirt. I peeled off my socks. Aunt Polly’s eyes never left me. She unbuttoned her dress and slipped it over her head, then removed her slip. She wore panties and a bra much briefer than I expected on a matronly lady.

I loosened my belt and kicked off of my pants. I stood in my shorts, staring at a lady old enough to be my grandmother. Her bright eyes met mine as if accepting a dare. “Well,” said Aunt Polly, “are you ready?”

“It’s… you know.”

“From the bulge in your shorts, I do believe you’re hiding something a young man should be proud of.”

“I feel funny.”

“Because you’ve got an erection? Gracious, honey, that’s what happens to boys around nearly naked woman.” She moved closer and stretched the waistband of my jockeys to guide it past my bobbing boner My pecker pointed upward and outward toward her. “Now that’s a beauty,” whispered Aunt Polly. “A real beauty. Have you measured it?”

“Seven inches, almost.”

“Just lovely.” Aunt Polly wrapped her fingers around my cock and moved her plump little hand up and down the stem.

Her warm fingers felt better than mine and I thought jerking off was the best feeling there was. I moaned. “You’ll make me do something if you keep doing that.”

The lady smiled. “I bet it wouldn’t be the first time, now would it?”

“No Ma’am. It wouldn’t.”

“Do you do that a lot?”


“All by yourself?”


“But sometimes with somebody else?”

“I reckon.”

“Do you boys enjoy watching each other?”

I nodded.

“Do you suppose we could watch each other?”

I stared in disbelief. “Do grown women do that? How?”

The lady smiled. “Women need the good feelings too. When there’s no man around, we take matters into our own hands. I confess. There’s times I have a need for making myself feel good.”

“I’d like seeing that, I really would.”

She unsnapped her bra and let her small breasts fall free. She had her thumbs in the waistband of her briefs. Aunt Polly bit her lip and sucked it in. She nodded and shoved those panties down her legs. Our eyes riveted on each otherÔs crotches.

“If we played doctor, you could examine this old lady and find the cure she needs to make a dull life interesting.”

I nodded. I could not speak at that moment.

She combed her fingers through the patch of curls between her legs. “Would you like to check out this old lady?”

I nodded again.

“If I lay back and you pull up that chair, we can watch each other play tickle-tickle. Would you like that?”

Aunt Polly pulled up her legs and parted her rounded knees. She worked slot oyna two fingers into her crotch while rotating her thumb on that little nub protruding at the top of her crack. Soon she was moaning and groaning. Her hips moved up, down and sideways like an invisable man was screwing hell out of her.

All the while she kept her eyes riveted on my hand sliding up and down my throbbing pole that grew bigger and harder with every stroke.

“Have you done it with a woman?” Aunt Polly gasped the words.

“No Ma’am. Not really,” I lied.

“Have you touched one down there?”

“The was the girl I played doctor with.”

She used her finger, one moist from her juices, to beckon me closer. “This old woman is itching something terrible down there,” she groaned. “Doctor, can you find out what’s wrong with me?”

I settled on my knees next to the couch. I put my ear next to her breast and listened to her heart beat. “You’re warm,” I said. “I think you have a fever.”

“What would you reccomend, Doctor?”

“Hmmmm.” I touched the protruding nipples and felt how stiff they were. “Your tips are real hot.”

“I know. Do you have a cure?”

“There’s a cure I heard helps, sometimes. I’d like to try.”

“Anything Doctor. Do what you think best.”

I bent to the nearest breast and took the tip in my mouth and inhaled most of the small mound.

Aunt Polly moaned. “Oh that’s so good, Doctor. The other one needs it too.”

I switched to the second nipple. I started giggling with my mouth full. There was something ridiculous here. An eighteen year old playing doctor with a woman three times his age. I slipped a hand between her legs and found the folds of her sex almost completely hidden in soft, wiry curls. Everything was slicker and smoother and hotter than I expected.

Aunt Polly moaned. “Oh God! Yes!”

I wanted to eyeball what my fingers had discovered. I moved down and looked straight at those hairy, nether lips and tried to look inside of her. “Hmmmm.”

“Do you see anything, Doctor?”

“I think so.”

“What is wrong with me?”

I chuckled, thinking of an old joke. “It may be a rare Hawaiian disease called Lackanookie.”

Polly giggled. “”Oh my God! Is there a cure, doctor?”

“It will probably take more than one treatment,” I said with mock strernness.

“Oh, I hope so,” said Aunt Polly. “When can you start?”

“Immediately,” I said, “if you have no objection, I’ll give you the first injection in just a few minutes.”

“Oh, Doctor. I can’t wait.” Her hand reached between my legs. “You have such a nice, long needle. I bet you give wonderful injections.”

“I hope there’s enough to do the job.”

Oh, Im sure there is.” Her voice became throaty and a bit anxious. “How are you going to inject it.”

“I was thinking,” I said seriously, “of putting it here unless you have a place you’d rather have it.”

“I’ll leave that to you. I have complete confidence in your discretion.”

“I think first we’ll palpitate your pussy.”

Aunt Polly laughed. “Where did you learn that word?”

“I think it was Doctor Kildare. He palpitated something.”

“I just know I”m going to love your cure.”

“Me too.”

“Especially,” she murmured coyly, “if it includes a good fucking.”

Aunt Polly shocked me, that nice, church-going lady using that word, though I must say nothing should have surprised me after we got naked. “It definitely does but, you know the patient must cooperate.”

“I think you can rely on full cooperation.”

I positioned myself between her parted thighs. The lady guided the needle to the insertion point. As I slipped in, she raised her hips to enthusiastically envelop me. Fully sheathed, I lowered my mouth to hers. Her lips parted to accept my tongue. With my eyes closed it could have been anyone of a half dozen girls I had swapped spit with over the past year but none had approached the skill of Aunt Polly. None had accepted my tongue so freely and wrestled it to a stand still. Our hips moved automatically, thrusting and withdrawing. I plunged into that hairy grotto and knew I would discharge the best kind of salvation near the end of her slippery tunnel.

Words erupted from Aunt Polly’s mouth I had only heard from other boys in locker rooms and circle jerks. She moaned, “It’s been so long and you do it so good.” She whispered, “You make my pussy feel so hot, you really do, and this old lady needs it so bad.” She wailed, “Oh! Fuck and fuck and fuck it!”

Somehow we rolled and tossed until we wound up on the floor. At one point she was on top. I watched myself piston inside her to retreat and return. Over and over.

“It feels so good to ride a hard, young cock,” moaned Aunt Polly. She smiled. “Do you like your big, hard prick in my hot pussy?”

“Love it,” I breathed. “I love when you talk dirty.”

“Then screw the shit out of this old snatch and make me cream,” said the older woman who was no longer the gentle Aunt Polly I thought I knew.

She peaked at least twice. I hoped I might last for her to do one more before I shot my wad. canlı casino siteleri “I’m going to come,” I moaned.

Aunt Polly raised her hips then settled solidly, entraping every throbbing inch deep inside. Her inner muscles milked me. I shot glob after glob of the white stuff I most often watched splash my fist. I shot my load deep inside her, a first injection in what I hoped would be a long series of treatments.

We lay on the floor, breathing heavily.

“God!” said Polly. “Now that was something.”

“It sure was.”

“Now don’t tell me that was your first time.”

I grinned. “Bet it wasn’t yours either.”

“I have to admit it was my first hard cock in quite a spell.”

“I reckon you know I’m not the least bit sorry I saw you bareass.”

Aunt Polly smiled. “I left the bathroom door open, hoping you’d walk by. I was hoping you wouldn’t be too disgusted with this old body.”

I reached over and patted her rather prominent buttocks. “I love that nice, round butt.”

She smiled. “What you really like is pumping this old pussy.” She gave me a squeeze with her internal muscles.

“That too,” I admitted. “I bet it tastes good.”

“Have you done that?”


“Tasted pussy.”

“I confess.”

“Would you tell me whose?”

“No. And I won”t tell on you after I lick all the goo out of yours.”

II want to gnaw on your bone.”

“Promise you won’t bite?”

She moved a hand slowly down to where my cock was lodged inside her. “You didn’t even go soft? You’re still solid as a rock.”

“I feel like you’re squeezing me with a soft wet glove with a strong hand inside.”

“You like?”

“Love it.” I reached around her and clasped an ass cheek in each hand and squeezed. “I like your ass too.”

“It’s all yours, honey. You can do anything you want with it.”

“I’d like to smack it.”


“It sounds like it might be fun.” I slapped one cheek with an open hand and the sound rang out, flesh on flesh.

“Ouch!” She sank down on me until our curly hairs meshed together.

I smacked her again. She rose up and settled down again. Once more her pussy muscles tightened and relaxed on my hard pecker. With each smack the process was repeated.

After her first ,”Ouch,” she voiced no more complaints. She seemed to enjoy the stimulation. We devepoped a rhythm of smack on the up stroke and an internal contraction as she settled back. Gradually I increased the tempo. Aunt Polly broke into a sweat. Her breath became ragged. She was moaning and her words became a mantra, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”

When she came, she bent forward and colapsed on top of me, her mouth covering mine, her tongue seeking my throat. I throbbed my load deep inside her while I pulled her ass cheeks down on me as hard as I could so I could get the last milimeter of cock crammed into her.

At last she rolled to the side but we remained connected until I finally shrank and slipped out of her. “Are you cured yet?” I whispered, teasingly, in her ear.

She giggled deep in her throat. “Doctor, you fuck a wonderful cure. You injected this old lady real good.”

“You drained most of my swelling too.”

“I’m all sweaty and sticky,” said Aunt Polly, “Let’s shower. You can’t go home smelling of me.”

“I like your pussy smell.”

“I doubt your mother would approve of her only son coming home reeking in Polly’s pussy perfume.”

“Especially knowing I drove you to church.” I toyed with the big nipples on her small breasts, flicked them with my fingernail and made them harden, then covered them with my palms and flattened them into her chest. “I like your titties.”

“Not very big.”

“Just right and they don’t sag to your knees.”

“I love having them played with.”

“Maybe I can come over and exercize them after school.”

“I’d like that.”

We showered and played around in the water and rubbed against each other. Everything felt so good we diddled each other, standing in the tub.

That night, at home, I went to bed and I didn’t even have jack off before I went to sleep.


The next morning I thought it must have dreamt it, but there was no evidence on the sheets. I debated stopping by Aunt Polly’s. I was hesitant to face her after what we had done. I felt she might be ashamed of letting herself go the way she had.

Thursday evening, It was more than a week after the night of our first escapade. Aunt Polly had not asked me to drive her to the Wednesday night church service. I was in my room. The phone rang downstairs. Minutes later Mom called up to me. Aunt Polly had called to ask if I would stop by her house after school, next day.

I thought school, that Friday, would never end. Every time I thought about Aunt Polly’s I got a hard on. Two girls in the last class eyed me, whispered behind their hands and giggled. They had evidently scanned the bulge in my jeans and were discussing its dimentions. If I had not promised Aunt Polly, I might have given Marilou Ames a chance to find out.

At Aunt Polly’s, I tried the knob and the sidedoor opened. I turned down the hall by instinct. I found her in her bedroom, on top of the covers, naked as the night I had last seen her. Her thighs were open and her fingers teased the moist, open slit.

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