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One morning, I got up, took a shower and walked downstairs where, like every morning, my breakfast was waiting for me (imagine how hard it was getting used to not being pampered like this when I got married). Aunt Rita was at the counter pouring herself a second coffee. Despite the fact that Rita and I had rubbed, and touched a little and exchanged looks, nothing had happened since Cancun. Don’t know why but that’s what it was. Except that morning I was feeling horny and just could not resist. Instead of sitting down, I joined her at the counter and put my hands on her hips and kissed her neck, you know the spot just below the jawline and the collarbone. “Hummm, what brings this on?” she asks.“I want you.” That’s all I could say. I brought my hands up around her stomach and slowly grabbed both her tits through her housecoat and she grabbed my hand squeezing her own tits with my hands. “Oh I’ve been hoping we would do this again” she sighs. I know the story sounds like a thousand. ” she though as the alarm clock’s buzz crashed her back into reality. I’ve got chores to do before the holiday she thought. And the repairman was due today to fix her stove. Too many holiday treats and dinners to prepare with only half of the electric burners working. Her pleasures and fantasies would need to wait. Her retired, suburban reality was calling. She jumped from bed and headed for the shower. Soaped and lathered, she still felt that sexy urge. The sexual adventures would have to return to the deep recesses it occupied for most of her life; repressed deep in her subconscious. As she finished, she returned her razor to the tray. Since the lake, she indulged herself to make sure she was ready if she ran into Jim again. It was only a fantasy; but it was the only ray of hope at unleashing her repressed sexual desires.She dried off and combed her shoulder length, blond-brunette hair. She put on her panties. Plain old panties, she thought. I should buy something a little risqué..
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