Summer Camp
Book 1: Susan
Chapter 3
Audio Script
Section 1: Day 2, Breakfast
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Narrator:  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!).
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: What’s that?
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Narrator:  She asked good-naturedly.
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Narrator:  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 light-hearted 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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: I think we’ll be fine without these.
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Narrator:  She said lightly, pointing toward her bikini bottoms.
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Susan: You don’t have to spend the day working around my… nakedness.
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Narrator:  She said with a wink.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  After we finished breakfast and cleaned the dishes, we headed out to the courtyard to begin transplanting.

Section 2: Day 2, Morning
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  When she stepped to the side to retrieve her towel and I stepped into the water she’d left running, she turned and said.
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Susan: I hope the cold water does you some good.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  And then she winked at me!
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  The realization came crashing over me. She wanted me to look!
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  When I stepped into the chill of the air conditioning, Aunt Susan, still completely nude, was at the counter making sandwiches.
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Narrator:  She turned at the sound of my entrance.
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Susan: How do bologna and cheese sandwiches sound?
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Direction: bewilderment
Young Paul: Uh… fine
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Narrator:  She was acting as if the whole episode from a few minutes before simply hadn’t happened. I quickly decided that if she wasn’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.

Section 3: Day 2, Afternoon
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Narrator:  After we finished lunch, we cleaned the dishes and headed back out to the courtyard.
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Susan: Since the ‘cat is out of the bag,’ so to speak.
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Narrator:  She said, grinning at her own double entendre.
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Susan: I’m just going to leave the bikini off.
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Narrator:  I blushed, and my erection throbbed.
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Susan: You don’t mind, do you?
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Narrator:  She asked mischievously, grinning at me.
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Narrator:  I was at a loss for words, and she laughed again, obviously enjoying my strangled expression as she headed back outside.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: You hold the ladder while I go up and check things out.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: Grab the chair over there, Paul.
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Narrator:  She said, as she looked down at me and pointed with her extended toe.
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Susan: and slide it over so I can put my foot on it.
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Narrator:  I located the chair she had indicated, and stretched out one hand to drag it closer.
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Susan: That’s fine.
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Narrator:  She said when it was located to her satisfaction.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  I hurriedly climbed down the ladder, my erection bobbing with each step I took, until I was standing back on terra firma.
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Susan: What do you think?
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Narrator:  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.
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Young Paul: It looks like we’ll have to replace most of the panels.
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Narrator:  I said, feigning cluelessness about the air on my dick. She smiled at my obvious discomfort, teasing me. I continued steadfastly.
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Young Paul: I’m pretty sure we can re-nail the ones we have, but the ones torn up by the storm will just leak.
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Narrator:  She nodded, serious again. 
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Susan: 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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: I’ll go get a mallet so you can remove the remaining panels.
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Narrator:  Aunt Susan said as I began shifting the ladder into a new position.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: If you’d like, you can use the hall bathroom to ‘wash up’ before you meet your Mom for dinner.
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Narrator:  She said innocently, teasing me with her eyes.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  When she saw my glance, she said.
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Susan: Same time tomorrow?
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Narrator:  as lightheartedly as she could.
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Narrator:  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.
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Direction: quietly
Susan: I’ll see you then. Good night.
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Narrator:  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.

Section 4: Day 3, Morning
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: Ham and cheese omelettes okay with you?
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Narrator:  She asked, looking at me over her shoulder.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  She looked down over her shoulder at her bare cheeks, then back up at me, and shrugged.
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Susan: I didn’t see the point.
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Narrator: She said with feigned innocence and smiled.
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Susan: Besides, I don’t want to disappoint my loyal admirer.
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Narrator:  She said, nodding to indicate my as-yet-flaccid penis
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Narrator:  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!
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Narrator:  She fixed one big omelette 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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.)
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  She looked back at me, over her shoulder.
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Susan: Would you run the comb through my hair to get the snippets out, please.
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Narrator:  She asked, and waited for my response.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Susan: All done?
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Narrator:  She asked sweetly, acting completely oblivious to the situation a moment before and ignoring my raging hard on.
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Narrator:  I gulped and nodded mutely.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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?
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Narrator:  She fixed hotdogs for lunch, and we ate in relative silence, at the table in the courtyard.
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Narrator:  My erection didn’t disappoint me, or evidently her, the entire time. Treacherous organ!

Section 5: The Adventure Begins
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Narrator:  After we finished lunch, I put my socks and shoes on, and we headed back out to the ladder.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  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.
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Narrator:  Once I’d thrown the last of the smaller large branches off the roof, I started down the ladder. As I worked on the roof, I’d been paying attention to what I was doing, and wasn’t distracted by Aunt Susan’s body (or teasing). My erection had completely disappeared. It was still early in the afternoon when I started down the ladder, and I reluctantly thought that my time with Aunt Susan was coming to an end. I had really enjoyed my time with her, despite my embarrassment at having a near-constant erection.
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Narrator:  So it was those thoughts that occupied my mind as I reached the bottom of the ladder and turned to step down. While I had been dragging the second smaller branch, Aunt Susan had dragged the first one around to our burn pile. As I was coming down the ladder, I absentmindedly noticed her coming back for the second of the smaller branches.
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Narrator:  When I reached the bottom of the ladder and turned, time slowed to a crawl as I watched a horrible series of events unfolding. Remembering it later, I managed to reconstruct what occurred, but at the time, it actually happened so quickly that there was simply nothing I could do to stop things.
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Narrator:  Aunt Susan had bent over to grasp the thick branch by its middle, to drag it to our pile. Just as I was stepping off the ladder, she was standing and lifting the thick branch. I watched in horror as the stout base of the branch inexorably rose to meet my descending groin.
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Narrator:  With a white-hot explosion of agony, the branch connected with my balls. I don’t even think I had enough strength in me to so much as groan. As waves of pain and nausea washed over me, I collapsed silently. I held my gloved hands to my aching testicles and curled into the fetal position.
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Narrator:  An indeterminate amount of time passed, and when the pain subsided enough for me to open my eyes, I saw Aunt Susan kneeling very anxiously by my head. She obviously didn’t know what to do, and in my agony, I was in no condition to tell her. Ice picks of pain stabbed my belly, and my abused testicles seemed to pulse and emit the torturous jolts.
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Narrator:  My hearing returned, finally, and I realized that Aunt Susan was apologizing frantically. She was asking me what to do, and didn’t dare do anything until I spoke. I blinked up at her, my mouth open in a rictus of pain.
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Young Paul: Ow.
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Narrator:  I said with pathetic humor when I finally regained enough presence of mind to actually speak.
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Susan: Oh my God, Paul, are you okay?
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Narrator:  I nodded wordlessly. The waves of pain and nausea had passed, and my testicles still throbbed with a dull ache, but at least coherent thought had returned.
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Direction: croaked
Young Paul: I think I’ll live.
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Susan: Can you stand?
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Narrator:  I nodded again, a little jerkily, and hoped that my rubbery legs would support me. She helped me to my feet, and I stood hunched over, my gloved hands still protecting my groin. She dusted the sand off my left side, from where I’d lain on the ground in agony, and we slowly, torturously made our way toward the courtyard.
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Narrator:  Once we got to there, we entered the kitchen and Aunt Susan leaned me in the corner near the sink. She shucked her gloves and reached for a clean dishtowel. I watched curiously as she laid it flat on the counter and stepped to the refrigerator. She briskly opened the freezer door and took a bag of something out. I saw that she’d grabbed a bag of frozen peas, and watched as she set it in the middle of the dishtowel and carefully folded the sides of the towel over the bag. She folded the ends of the towel over the sides, forming a bulging package, which she clutched with her right hand, and then returned to stand in front of me.
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Narrator:  Matter of factly, she knelt in front of me and used her left hand to pry away my gloved hands, which where still cupping my abused testicles. She put her right hand between my knees and had me spread my legs slightly. A fresh wave of pain and nausea flooded my senses as my balls suffered the movement. I put my hands to the side and supported myself against the counter, tilting my head back and squeezing my eyes shut to combat the waves of nausea caused by the pain in my groin.
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Narrator:  I vaguely felt Aunt Susan lift my penis and place the soft, towel-wrapped, and very cold bag of peas against my scrotum. My testicles immediately tried to retreat further into my abdomen as the cold permeated the entire region. Once I’d gotten over the shock of the movement, and then the cold, I slowly realized that the makeshift icepack was soothing my battered testicles.
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Narrator:  Slowly, ever so slowly, the waves of nausea retreated and, to my surprise, the shooting pains in my balls eased to a dull ache. When I finally decided to open my eyes, I lifted my head and took a deep, shuddering breath. I then looked down at Aunt Susan. She had a concerned look on her face as she stared intently at the towel-wrapped bag of peas. She was making a concerted effort to hold it against my scrotum with a minimum of pressure, while still making contact.
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Narrator:  As I looked down at her where she knelt in front of me, she sensed me looking and raised her eyes to meet mine. There was a world of apology and sympathy in her expression, and I smiled at her by way of forgiveness. She understood my unspoken message and in gratitude, she returned my smile.
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Narrator:  Sensing that the worst had passed, she gently removed the cold towel from my groin. She lowered her eyes to scrutinize my balls.
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Susan: Your scrotum is red, and slightly swollen, but I don’t think anything is permanently damaged. Do you feel anything worse than a dull ache? Any shooting pains?
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Narrator:  She asked, looking up at me once again.
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Narrator:  I shook my head numbly and she returned her gaze to my crotch. She studied my equipment for a minute or so, looking from different angles, before looking back up at me.
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Susan: I am so sorry, Paul. I didn’t see you coming down the ladder,” she apologized.
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Direction: croaked
Young Paul: I know, it was an accident.
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Susan: I have been so awful to you today. Teasing you, and then… this…
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Narrator:  I could see how sorry she was, her apology was graven on her face, but as I stared down at her, I couldn’t help but think about our situation. Aunt Susan had been holding my limp penis out of the way with her left hand, and as she knelt in front of me, the contact of her hand on my manhood sent a surge of excitement through my body.
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Narrator:  My balls still ached dully, but the excitement of the situation overrode the pain, and I felt my cock twitch with the first rush of blood. Because I was still in a modicum of pain, my erection was slow to develop. Aunt Susan had begun to offer another series of apologies when she felt my penis twitch, and then swell.
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Narrator:  Suddenly, her expression changed. Without a word, she set the towel-wrapped bag of peas on the floor between my feet. She then lowered my penis from where she’d been holding it against my abdomen.
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Narrator:  I was horrified that she had been disgusted by my reaction and that she was mad at me. Panic filled my thoughts as I wondered what she would do; if she would yell at me, or kick me out of the kitchen, or worse. So it was with panic-induced shock that I watched her slowly look up at me, her expression unreadable.
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Narrator:  With a mischievous smile, she opened her mouth and engulfed the stiffening head of my young penis. The pain in my balls was quickly forgotten as the warmth and pleasure of that first contact washed over me.
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Narrator:  I looked down in awe as she closed her eyes and gently sucked on the crown of my semi-hard dick. She gently put her right palm on the front of my left thigh and opened her mouth to accept more of my rapidly stiffening penis. I felt the warmth and wetness of her tongue on the bottom of my shaft as she closed her mouth and sucked. She slowly withdrew her lips, tugging at the skin of my dick, and I quickly reached a full erection.
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Narrator:  She kept the head in her mouth and I felt the breath from her nose on the saliva-slick top of my cock. And then a sensation of pure ecstasy washed over me as she swirled her tongue around the sensitive glans. I gripped the edge of the counter firmly with my still-gloved hands, watching in amazement as she opened her mouth once more and slowly impaled herself on my length.
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Narrator:  She was about two inches from the base of my penis when she clamped her lips shut and her nostrils flared as she inhaled. She caressed the underside of my penis with her tongue, and I closed my eyes, savoring the pleasure and warmth. She very gently withdrew my cock from her mouth and sucked on the head before releasing me entirely.
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Susan: Do you forgive me?
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Narrator:  She asked, looking up at me.
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Narrator:  I opened my eyes and gazed into hers. She wore an unreadable expression-it wasn’t the teasing look from earlier, nor was it the face of lust I’d seen my mom make as she sucked my dad. Aunt Susan appeared genuinely contrite, but that emotion was underscored by something else. I slowly realized that it was a desire to please me.
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Narrator:  I swallowed hard, nodded at her, and she smiled.
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Narrator:  She then closed her eyes and began planting open-mouthed kisses down the side of my shaft. She was careful not to touch my still-tender balls, but the feeling of my penis rubbing along the soft, smooth skin of her face drowned out any concern I might’ve had for my testicles.
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Narrator:  Her left hand still grasped my penis lightly and she withdrew her lips, pulling it to her left to kiss the other side of the base. She drew her open-mouthed kisses toward the head of my shaft and I once again luxuriated in the feeling of my sensitive glans being brushed by the soft skin of her cheek.
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Narrator:  When she reached the tip, her left hand held my erection and aimed it at her mouth. She parted her lips and extended her tongue, flicking the hole at the end of my cock. My hips bucked involuntarily at the rush of pleasure, and she smiled at my reaction, engulfing the crown of my manhood with her lips once again.
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Narrator:  She concentrated on the head of my penis, her eyes still closed, and it wasn’t long before I felt the pressure of my impending orgasm. I panicked about where I was going to shoot my come.
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Direction: groaned
Young Paul: Oh, God…Oh… I’m… oh… uh…
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Narrator:  I was incoherent, delirious with pleasure.
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Narrator:  She sensed my need, however, and she began to gently stroke my penis with her left hand. She clamped her mouth tightly around the first couple of inches of my cock and began to flick her tongue against the sensitive underside of the head. Her left hand increased its pressure and tempo, rubbing the skin of my shaft over the nerves and erectile tissue underneath.
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Narrator:  With a groan, I squeezed my eyes shut and emptied my seed into her mouth. I felt her start at the power of my first spurt, but she kept up the stroking motion with her left hand. At the same time, she ceased flicking her tongue. The next spurt of semen surged up my shaft and erupted into her mouth. She kept pumping me gently, milking my cock with her hand and lips. My cock spurted several more times, each time depositing more of my sperm in her willing mouth.
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Narrator:  When I finished ejaculating, she wrapped her fingers around the base of my penis and milked me one final time. She kept her lips wrapped around my cock and I could feel her swallow the load I’d just shot into her mouth. It took her two swallows to get it all.
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Narrator:  When she finished swallowing, she took a deep, shuddering breath through her nose. I felt her exhale on the top of my penis as she released her grip. She breathed deeply, but never released the head from the warm cavern of her mouth. And as she suckled the end of my penis, it didn’t shrink much. She placed the warm palm of her left hand against my right thigh and again sighed deeply.
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Narrator:  She knelt that way for several minutes; sitting on her heels, her palms gently rubbing my thighs, her warm, wet mouth rhythmically sucking the head of my cock.
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Narrator:  Finally, she released my penis and smiled up at me.
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Direction: quietly
Susan: Better?
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Narrator:  I could only nod my head vigorously. She looked like an angel, kneeling in front of me, my mostly erect cock a divining rod pointing toward the warm wetness of her mouth. She smiled and kissed the underside of the glans and closed her eyes again, breathing a deep sigh. Then she shuddered, her body quivering all over as she continued to kiss my swollen member. With a shake of her head, as if pulling herself out of a daydream, she opened her eyes and I looked down into their liquid blue depths.
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Narrator:  Slowly, she got to her feet. She reached out and took the gloves off my hands one at a time. She took my hand, turned, and led me into the living room. Bending over, she turned on the lamp on the end table next to the couch and silently indicated that I should sit. I quickly obliged her. As I looked up at her magnificent body in the light of the lamp, I wondered what she was going to do.
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Narrator:  I didn’t have long to wonder, however, as she lay down on the couch to my right. She scooted forward and put her left arm over my hips. I slouched down to give her better access and she rolled to put her back to the back of the couch. Her left breast was pressed firmly against my right thigh as she adjusted herself into a comfortable position.
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Narrator:  I didn’t know where to put my hands, and I didn’t want to touch her somewhere where she didn’t want to be touched. I was still young enough, and naïve enough, to think that I might still screw things up at that point, so I left well enough alone. With her right hand, she reached up. Then she turned her head and looked for my right hand. Once I realized what she was after, I put my hand in hers and she placed it on her right breast.
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Narrator:  Her breast was softer than I’d ever imagined possible. It was so pliable as I gently cupped it, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I simply kneaded it gently. With her free left hand, Aunt Susan grasped my still-erect prick and aimed it at her mouth. Once she had my dick firmly seated between her lips, she cocked her right leg up, bent at the knee, and reached down to her pussy with her right hand.
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Narrator:  I was awestruck by the sight. So much so, in fact, that I forgot all about the wonderful sensations she was causing in my dick. I watched as she ran her middle finger up and down the length of her slit. There was a glistening sheen of moisture on her labia as she slipped her finger into her sex, and the sight captivated me. She pumped her finger a couple of times, in and out, in and out, then withdrew it and pressed down against the top of her slit.
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Narrator:  She began moving her right hand in small circles, pressing down at the top of her pussy. She alternated that motion with running her middle finger down over her slit and then plunging it into her vagina. I watched in wonder as she pleasured herself while sucking on my stiff manhood.
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Narrator:  Taking my cue from the motions of her right hand, I began moving my hand, the one cupping her breast, in small circles. I felt her nipple become stiff under my palm, and knew I must’ve done something right. Because her hair had fallen over her face, and because of the position of her head over my cock, I couldn’t see what she was doing. So I alternated between watching her rub her pussy and simply enjoying the pleasure my penis was experiencing.
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Narrator:  She took her time sucking me. She was always careful never to touch my still-tender balls, and alternated between taking me very deep and licking the length of my shaft. Although I couldn’t see it, by the feelings in my groin I was certain that she was attempting to swallow my entire penis, right down to my pubic hair.
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Narrator:  She would impale her mouth on my cock, lock her lips around the base, open her mouth a little and try to thrust more of it in her mouth. Then she would work her tongue against the shaft and slowly withdraw, letting her lips drag along my length.
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Narrator:  Not knowing what else I should be doing, I simply leaned my head on the back of the couch and enjoyed the blowjob. She took things slowly, and because I had already come once, it took longer for my climax to build. When I masturbated, I knew exactly what to do to bring myself off quickly, increasing pressure here, stroking faster there. Her mouth was completely different. I didn’t know what to expect from one moment to the next, and the anticipation was almost as exquisite as the actual sensations.
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Narrator:  In time, however, I felt her stiffen. Her hand began to narrow its circles and move very, very fast. She wrapped her lips around my dick and simply held me in her mouth. I wondered what was happening, if she were okay or not. She began thrusting her hips at her racing fingers, and moaning deep in her throat. Her moaning vibrated my dick and sent buzzes of pleasure through my entire groin.
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Narrator:  Suddenly, she thrust her middle finger back into the depths of her smooth-shaven pussy and started pumping it in and out. Finally, she got very, very still. Her moan started deep, but quickly rose in pitch, a sustained sound coming from deep in her chest. After fifteen or twenty seconds, she let out an explosive breath around my trapped penis, and withdrew her mouth from my manhood.
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Narrator:  I didn’t know what to do, or not do, so I simply stayed right where I was, neither moving nor talking. She shuddered and straightened her legs, trapping her right hand at the junction of her thighs, her finger still stuck into her pussy. When her quivering finally diminished, she grasped my penis with her left hand and aimed it at her waiting mouth.
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Narrator:  She began sucking my cock with enthusiasm, pumping the shaft with her left hand while she bobbed her head up and down on my length. In short order, I was shooting jets of hot semen into her mouth. With her lips wrapped around the ridge of my glans, she swallowed and kept pumping. When she had milked the last of my come from my cock, she opened her lips and released my shrinking member.
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Narrator:  She then collapsed against me, laying her head on my stomach and resting her right arm along her length, between her right hip and the back of the couch. She breathed deeply and licked her lips, her eyes closed, a smile on her face.
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Narrator:  We sat like that for some time, neither of us moving. When I finally began thinking coherently again, I almost panicked. What would happen now? Would she not want to see me again? Today was the last day I was supposed to work for her, what next? Would she not want to “do stuff” with me again because I wasn’t any good?
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Narrator:  A thousand thoughts swirled through my mind, few of them well formed or well thought out. So I sat there, and dared not move.
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Narrator:  When her breathing had returned to normal, she opened her eyes and looked up at me, eyes bright with her pleasure.
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Susan: I’m sorry I hit you with the branch.
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Narrator:  I looked at her, dumbfounded.
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Narrator:  She stared up at the incomprehension on my face for perhaps five seconds and then burst out laughing. Her laughter was gentle and guileless, and enfolded us both with its good humor. Slowly, languidly, she pulled her left arm underneath her and laid her head on my right thigh. She pulled her legs up and got very quiet. I could tell that she was thinking, about what I didn’t know, and I sat quietly. But under the surface calm, my mind was still racing, playing out “what if” scenarios endlessly. I’d finally decided it was fruitless when the clock on the living room wall chimed five o’clock.
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Narrator:  Aunt Susan raised her head, tilted it to look at the clock, and then sighed. She pushed herself up with her arm and levered her legs over the edge of the couch, standing up gracefully.
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Narrator:  As I looked up at her, I let my eyes roam over her body, looking at her openly for the first time. She let me look, standing quietly with her arms at her sides. As my eyes dropped to look at her pussy, I saw that her lips were pink and swollen, and that her inner labia were peeking out.
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Narrator:  Then a thought occurred to me. Her pussy had looked just like that when she had emerged from her bedroom the day before, just as I had come out of the hall bathroom. She had been masturbating in her bedroom! The idea crashed over me like a wave, and I was stunned.
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Narrator:  I had little time to contemplate my revelation, as she extended her hand to help me up from the couch. When I took it and stood up, she silently led me to the hall bathroom. There was no way I needed to jerk off. My penis was very soft at the moment, worn out by the two suckings I’d just enjoyed. When we entered the bathroom, she gestured for me to take off my shoes and socks while she started the water in the shower.
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Narrator:  She leaned in to test the temperature, then diverted the water to the shower nozzle. As she stepped into the shower, she extended her hand to me, inviting me to join her.
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Narrator:  In the shower, she washed herself first. I enjoyed seeing the soapsuds sheen her round breasts and flat stomach as she cleaned herself with a washcloth. Then she squirted some shampoo in her hand and lathered her hair. Finally, she turned and rinsed, first her hair, then her body.
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Narrator:  Lathering the washcloth once more, she squeezed past me and gently pushed me back, into the warm spray. As she passed me, I felt her stiff nipples drag across my stomach, and if I hadn’t come so recently, my penis surely would have stiffened instantly.
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Narrator:  Once under the showerhead, I let the warm water run over me and tilted my head back to wet my hair. Aunt Susan reached up and washed my body, exploring me with her hands and with the sudsy washcloth. When she had washed my chest, shoulders, and arms, she spun me around to wash my back. With that completed, she turned me around again to rinse my back.
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Narrator:  She lathered the washcloth once more and dropped to her knees. She raised it to my groin and gently, lovingly washed my penis and scrotum. She worked up a good lather, but was very gentle with my abused testicles. She washed my legs next, and then put her hand on my hip to turn me so she could wash my buttocks and lower back. When I had rinsed my pubic area, I turned around of my own accord, to rinse my back and buttocks.
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Narrator:  Aunt Susan rinsed out the washcloth and handed it to me so I could hang it on the bar on the far wall of the shower. I leaned forward and stretched to hang it and I felt her lips capture my soft penis. When I had the washcloth hung, I leaned back and looked down at her. Her hair was slicked back and her eyes were closed as she gently sucked me. She worked her lower jaw side-to-side and lavished attention on the underside of my still-flaccid cock. Pursing her lips, she slowly drew her head back, letting my manhood slip from her mouth. She smiled and opened her eyes, looking up at me.
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Susan: Tasty.
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Narrator:  She said mischievously and stood up.
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Narrator:  She reached around behind me, shut the water off, and then opened the shower curtain. She leaned out and pulled two towels from the bar, handing one to me. We dried off in relative silence, and then hung our towels up to dry. I grabbed my shoes and socks as we headed back out to the living room.
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Narrator:  The clock in the living room said it was almost half past five and I knew I had to meet my Mom and Erin for dinner. I shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what to say.
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Narrator:  Aunt Susan noticed my nervousness and once again rescued me from myself.
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Susan: Go on. Go meet your mom.
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Narrator:  I grinned like an idiot and almost ran toward the kitchen. At the door to the courtyard, however, I stopped. I don’t know why I did, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I turned to see her standing in the door to the living room, her wet hair hanging over her shoulders and framing her face. I waved goodbye to her, smiling.
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Narrator:  She smiled in return and waved. Then she made a shooing gesture with her hand and I bolted out the back door, letting the screen door slam behind me.