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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: estelle.txt (F/b, mast, intr, ped)
Authors name: Bill Barnett (bboy1tx@lycos.com)
Story title : Aunt Estelle
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Aunt Estelle (bboy1tx@lycos.com)
by Bill Barnett (F/b, mast, intr, ped)
***
True story of a young boy coming of age in 1950's small
Georgia town.
***
I was born in a small town in Georgia in 1940. My Mom and
Dad owned the only grocery store in town and worked 6
days a week from 7 in the morning until 6 at night. I was
an only child and was cared for by my Aunt Estelle.
Aunt Estelle was not really my aunt. She was a black lady
who took care of me before and after school, cleaned the
house, washed clothes and cooked supper every day. She
lived on the other side of town and walked over every
morning before Mom and Dad left and Dad took her home
every night. I don't know when Aunt Estelle went to work
for Mom and Dad, but for as long as I could remember she
had been around.
During the final days of school when I had just turned
12, I discovered girls. This happened quite suddenly one
afternoon on the way home from school. I was taking a
short cut through a patch of woods on a vacant lot
between Mulberry St. and Oak Street where I lived. I
heard some noise and giggling from behind a bunch of big
bushes and peeked through the limbs to see what was going
on. There was an older boy and girl in the bushes.
The girl was lying on her back and her dress was pulled
up. The boy was on top of her with his pants and
underwear pulled down to just above his knees. His butt
went up and down and they both made noises like they were
hurting each other. In a minute or two the boy made some
really funny grunting noises and just kind of collapsed
on the girl. They lay there for a few minutes without
moving and then the boy rolled off the girl.
I had never seen between a woman's legs nor had I ever
seen female pubic hair. The girl took a handkerchief
pocket and wiped the area between her legs. In doing so
she opened them up real wide and I could see the hair
covered a pair of big lips positioned right between her
legs. When the girl finished they went on their way
without seeing me.
I thought about this all the way home and noticed the
more I thought about it the more my little pecker grew. I
thought then that my pecker only grew at night so I
wouldn't pee in the bed. That's what Aunt Estelle told me
when I was about 6 when I asked her why it was big every
morning when I got up.
When I got home Aunt Estelle had a big piece of pie and a
glass of milk waiting for me in the kitchen. She was
cooking supper and after she handed me the milk she went
out on the back porch with some potatoes in a bowl. She
would peel these while she sat on the back porch and
"caught some air" as she always said.
Even though we lived in town, our back yard was big and
secluded. There were giant Oak trees and huge hedges
across both sides and the back of the property.
The back porch was good sized and Aunt Estelle always sat
on a bench to do her kitchen work as she called it. She
would sit there peeling vegetables or shelling peas with
a bowl in her lap. When she finished, she would pull her
dress up and open her legs to catch some air. I had seen
her do this a thousand times, but until today what was
under her dress and between her legs had never interested
me.
When I finished my pie and milk I ran out the back door
and bounded off the porch heading straight for my tire
swing. As I swung back and forth, I watched Aunt Estelle
on the porch. As she peeled those potatoes, I looked at
her for probably the first time. She was about 45 years
old and had 3 grown children. I don't know if she ever
had a husband, but I know she lived by herself in a small
house. She was not fat, but I do remember that her hips
were wide and her breasts were big.
When she finished peeling the potatoes and pulled her
dress up, I got off the swing and headed for the porch. I
sat down on the steps and leaned back against the post
just like I'd done a thousand times, probably every day
of my life. But, today was different. I had never before
tried to look up her dress before.
Her legs were open wide and her dress was pulled up way
above her knees. Aunt Estelle was looking at the birds in
the back yard and telling me the Humming birds would be
back soon. I was not really listening because my eyes
were glued to the area between her legs. She was not
wearing underwear and because her legs were open so wide,
I could see all the way up.
Not only was there a great deal of thick black hair, but
Aunt Estelle had two sets of lips between her legs. One
set was big and fat like I saw on the girl. But Aunt
Estelle had a smaller set of lips inside the bigger ones.
The smaller set was not nearly as big. They were kind of
flat and stuck out about an inch. My little pecker
started to grow. In a few minutes Aunt Estelle went back
in the house and I sat there for a while and then went
back to my swing.
The next day on the way home from school, I took the
short cut again, but the boy and girl weren't there. I
hurried on home to get another peek up my Aunt's dress.
On the third day when I got to the porch instead of
sitting down, I walked up between my Aunt's legs and
hugged her around the neck as I'd done countless times
before. This was nothing new to her, but it was to me
because I had more on my mind than a hug.
The bench was tall and when I pressed against her my
crotch was pressed against hers. I hugged her for a
moment and she picked me up and sat me on her left leg.
In the process her dress rode up quite high on her thigh.
She told me she loved me and we talked for a few minutes.
I had my arm around her neck and could feel her big left
breast pressing on my chest. My pecker started to get
hard.
Aunt Estelle said she needed to get on with her supper
and so I slid off her leg and before I let her up I
reached up and gave her another hug. I pressed my body
close to hers and suddenly felt Aunt Estelle tense up.
She didn't move for a few moments, then gently took my
arms from around her neck, pushed me back a little, and
pulled her dress down.
Aunt Estelle closed her legs and patted her lap
indicating for me to sit on her lap.
"What'eryou doing here Bobby," she asked.
"Nothing."
Why is your little pecker hard and why is you pressing it
against me.
Boy, who been showing you that stuff?"
"Nobody."
"Boy, you lie to me and I'm gonna tell your Momma."
"Please don't," I begged.
"Well where you learning that stuff?"
I told her the whole story. She asked how long I had been
looking up her skirt. She asked me if I knew what to do
about it when my pecker got hard. She asked if Dad had
ever told me about the birds and the bees. I told her the
truth about looking up her dress and said I had no idea
what do about my pecker and the truth was my Dad very
seldom talked to me and he sure never said nothing about
birds.
Aunt Estelle told me to go up to my room and let her
think about this for a few minutes. I knew I was dead if
Mom and dad found out what I'd done.
I sat on the edge of my bed in fear for what seemed like
all morning. I heard Aunt Estelle come up the stairs and
go into the hall bathroom. In a few moments she came into
my room. She had a big jar of Vaseline in her right hand
and a wet washrag in her left hand. She sat down on the
bed beside me.
"Don't you never tell anybody what I'm gonna show you.
Its gonna be our secret. I'm gonna show you how a nice
young man handles the problems of his pecker. That thing
can get you in a lot of trouble if you don't treat it
right."
With that Aunt Estelle stood me up by the bed and removed
my overalls and underwear. I stood before her ashamed and
naked. My pecker was so shriveled up it was drawn up
completely into my stomach. The only thing visible was
the pointed and wrinkled little foreskin on the very end.
Aunt Estelle got up and pulled her dress above her waist
reveling her massive black bush. She sat back down on the
edge of the bed and opened her legs wide. My pecker began
to relax and come back to life. Aunt Estelle reached out
and took it gently in her right hand and rubbed it very
softly. It began to grow.
She pulled back the foreskin revealing the little purple
head hiding underneath. She took a small amount of
Vaseline and rubbed it between her thumb and index
finger. She placed my pecker between these two digits and
began to move them very slow and softly up and down the
head of my pecker.
I had never felt anything so great in all my life. I just
about fell as my knees got weak. In a few minutes, Aunt
Estelle gave me the jar of Vaseline and told me to put
some on my hand and do it myself, but go slow and be
gentle.
She told me not to do it too long or I would get sore.
She said that eventually when I got older my pecker would
tell me when it was time to stop because it would spit at
me when it was tired. Within two weeks, it was spitting
at me every day.
Aunt Estelle never sat on the back porch "catching a
breeze" anymore. She and I never had any other sexual
contact. I guess she saw what she did as a way to keep a
little boy she loved out of trouble.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not "real life." Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 19