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| Blogs > miss_candy_cane > Into the Thunderclouds |
At the Lake...fond memories
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At the Lake...fond memories When I read the stories people write about embarrassing experiences in their younger days, I always think of something that happened to me when I was<b> eighteen. </font></b>I was caught masturbating by my uncle and aunt. It happened in a memorable way that I still think about years later. Every summer my aunt and uncle, who had no of their own, invited me and one or two cousins to stay with them at their cottage at an upstate lake for at least a couple of weeks. These were the years I was living in Newport. I remember the year I turned eighteen, but in many ways it was the same as when I was fourteen or fifteen. Memories blend together in strange ways after some time has passed. That year I went to the lake with a cousin from the city who was a couple of years older than I was. The two of us swam and sunbathed on the dock as always, worried about our hair, read romance novels and talked about boys. At least she talked about boys, while I mostly listened. Feeling somewhat dull and at a loss, I dutifully listened while my cousin described the men who had called her, outlined the dates she had already enjoyed and others she planned for the fall. I didn't have much to say, but I did have a secret crush on my uncle, who seemed to me to be so handsome, energetic and funny... I envied my aunt, but of course I said nothing about that to my cousin. My aunt was my mother's younger sister. She and her husband were so open and relaxed with us, and much more openly affectionate with each other than my parents were. My mother and father seemed cold and rigid to me when I compared them in my mind. I always enjoyed the time I could spend at my aunt's and she always showered me with affection and attention, as if I were her own . That year my cousin had to leave after a week, to attend some summer school program in the city and I stayed on alone with my aunt and uncle for another couple of weeks. The summer woods and the peaceful lake were idyllic, but, that I was, I felt bored and restless after my cousin left. My aunt and uncle made every effort to include me in their activities, taking me to the village to look for antiques, swimming with me in the afternoon and making me sit with them at night on the porch while they had a glass of wine, but it seemed obvious to me that they were only waiting for my departure to begin their real holiday at the lake. They went skinny-dipping in the lake early in the morning before they thought I would be up. I wasn't supposed to know about it, but I did. Peering through the window, even at a distance, I could see my aunt's white behind jiggling a little as she stripped off her top and danced a little on the dock, avoiding my uncle's splashes. I didn't want to think too much about the two of them together. They hugged often but broke away from each other when I came into the room. My uncle teased me and my aunt hugged me, urging me to enjoy myself. She said I needed to get some sun; she thought I was too pale. One day, in the middle of a hot afternoon, I left them at the dock and went up to the cottage by myself. I told them I had a headache and wanted to take a nap. I was grumpy and out of sorts. Looking back on it years later, I think of my monthly period, which came a few days later. I was on edge, raw and sensitive that day, something I didn't completely understand at the time. My uncle appeared particularly insufferable to me. His male energy, his jokes, his attention to my aunt... To be more specific, that day it was his bathing suit that bothered me. My aunt was wearing a black one-piece, svelte and proper, but he was wearing a pair of briefs that left almost nothing to the imagination. His genital package seemed to sway and blossom every time I glanced in his direction. Think of apples in a handkerchief... something like that. He was kind and funny, as usual, but somehow I just wanted to get away and be by myself that afternoon. My aunt seemed cool and distant. I went up to the house and shut the door to my room. Let them carry on by themselves down by the lake in the sun, I thought. I took off my shorts and my top and lay down on my bed in my underwear, thankful for the cool, piney feel of the cottage around me. I gathered my pillows and started to look at the books I had read with my cousin. Then, bored with them, at some other paperbacks I had found in my aunt's closet, another kind of romance novel that I was ashamed to have discovered because they seemed so explicit. In my mind, this sort of thing was associated only with summer holidays at the lake. My own parents would never have allowed doubtful books like this in the house. Forgetting my aunt and my uncle, and the world outside, I started to masturbate as I read, slowly at first, hardly realizing what I was doing. The story I was reading was not extremely graphic by adult standards, but I had an exciting sense of plunging into forbidden territory. Anything to do with sex was still new for me. Hard kisses, close slippery embraces, romantic longing, even in a story, were mixed with a sense of urgency and mystery that I was struggling to discover and accept. I had to do something that afternoon or burst. I was surprised at my own feelings, at my grouchy anger at the world, at the marble of desire that was growing beneath my fingers to a swollen, protuberant flower as I explored my own shameful wetness beneath my underpants on the bed. It was not the first time I had masturbated. At fourteen or fifteen I was already familiar with the rush of pleasure and shame this sort of thing produced. In those days it took me a good five or ten minutes of direct stimulation to reach the point where I felt I was going to slide over the edge. I used my fingers, simply and openly, spreading the bristles and chasing that maddening hidden nub this way and that. I was not sophisticated enough then to think of other variations. It was the probably the first time I had ever done it in the middle of the afternoon. Certainly the first time I had done it in my aunt's cottage, with the two of them down at the lake, the smell of pine woods all around and my aunt and uncle probably stripping off their bathing suits to plunge naked into the cool water of the lake as soon as I left them. I knew that they made love, but I didn't want to think about it too carefully, how exactly they did it, or what it would be like. I had kept my bra on, and my tight cotton underpants. At that age I thought my breasts were too big and wore a bra all the time, to keep myself from jiggling and swaying provocatively, even in private. My underpants were getting pushed further and further down my thighs as I stroked myself and searched for the best way into the maddening corners of my cleft twinkie. The fingers of one hand were holding my sex open and the fingers of the other tormenting my swollen clit. I knew I was going to come eventually, I had done it before, in my own bed at home, but never here, in the middle of the day. I had this urge to open and spread my legs, but at the same time, as the climax approached, I wanted to clench them together, holding my hands in tight to cover the split flower of slick flesh. For some reason I felt so wet down there I could hardly locate the hard marble that usually gave me such spinning excitement. I had dropped the book that I had been reading and was concentrating on the rush of pleasure that was making my legs tremble, both hands between my thighs, feeling sweaty and hot all at once, when my aunt opened the door to my room and saw me. "Mindy, do you want to come to town with us?" Behind her my uncle was close, busy, peering, talking, asking questions. "Is she coming or not? It's already late. We have to get going if we want to be back before dark. See if she's coming with us!" My aunt stood in the doorway looking at me, her mouth open, a knowing look overcoming her shocked surprise, trying to block my uncle's view with her shoulders. "She can't come with us. She's taking a nap..." she said, looking right at me. She announced this with a finality that made my uncle retreat. I gasped, writhing on the bed, ashamed and panicky, unable to stop my legs from shaking, unable to pull my hands from my underpants at the critical moment. I saw my aunt's eyes widening, then softening with recognition and the beginning of a smile before the door closed behind them. A few moments later I heard the car's tires crunching the gravel outside as they left for town. I lay for a long time in my cool bed, panting slightly and too ashamed to think clearly. I knew I was alone in the house, but for some reason the urge to climax had left me. There could have been no mistake about what I was doing when my aunt opened the door. There was no other way to explain the lowered panties and my busy hands on the bed. She had seen everything and understood in an instant. I finally got up and changed my clothes, wandering around the cottage, down to the lake and back, waiting for them to return, feeling frustrated and kind of empty. My uncle was his usual comical, endearing self that evening at supper. My aunt was perhaps a little quiet, but said nothing to me directly in front of him. The next day she found a way to talk to me in private and while we were together in her room began a conversation that I still remember clearly. My aunt was very relaxed and cool about what she had seen. My mother would have hit the ceiling, but my aunt supported and encouraged me. She reassured me that my uncle had probably guessed nothing of what I was doing in my room the previous afternoon, and that it would be our secret. She seemed to be proud of me and said she admired me for my level-headedness. She admitted that masturbation was something she had only discovered as an adult, long after she was married, and she regretted that she hadn't known everything about it as a . She thought it could probably only improve a young woman's sexual life and hoped I wasn't too ashamed of something that after all, was only, well, natural. I felt myself warming and blossoming. Listening to my aunt, I felt so close to her and admired her all the more. I didn't know any other adult who could talk about things like that in a personal way. It was something I could never have shared with my own mother. It was strange to hear that she liked to masturbate too, and as we talked and hugged I could feel my whole body humming with a kind of happy contentment. "Just be sure there's no one else around," she said. That night I left my aunt and uncle with their bottle of wine on the porch and went to bed early. Much later, as I waited for sleep under my own sheets I heard them through the thin walls of the cottage making love in their room. I finally connected the giggling and suppressed laughter I had heard the last couple of weeks with their sexual play that for once, thanks to my aunt I'm sure, they allowed to become explicit. It was as if, thanks to our talk earlier in the day, I was suddenly accepted as sexually mature and adult. I heard my uncle getting excited, moaning in eagerness and sighing, probably at the moment when he was inserting his erection into my aunt. I held my breath, feeling dizzy and proud at the same time. They laughed and grunted with the exertion of their efforts. My aunt urged my uncle on. "It's too big," I heard him say, "I can't fit it all in..." "Come on, darling," I heard my aunt laugh. "Let's not exaggerate. It's in, believe me, and it is... so... oh god... don't stop..." I went to sleep only when their muffled little cries faded away. Thinking about it later, I was sure that my aunt intended me to hear everything that night, almost as if I was being initiated into another stage of life. She never mentioned it afterwards, and I was too respectful to dare question her, but I'm sure that it wasn't just an accident. Reach out and open the door that no one thought could be opened. Life is behind it! |
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9/29/2009 7:38 am |
Very good story... I was worried where this might be going at first, but it all turned out happy happy joy joy.
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9/29/2009 2:56 pm |
LMAO - I think everyone who reads it will wonder the same as your uncle: "Is she coming, or not?" Perrrfect timing Unc!!!
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Hey Candy  <<enjoyed reading the story. <<is now thinking about the pivate and the public. . . . what do you make of the private and the public, the inside and the outside, or the self and the other?
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Oh my! I could not perve my uncle and take it in that direction! Sheshhhh a gal has morals....put on a show! Welllllllllllll NOW that a bit different lala! *grins* Reach out and open the door that no one thought could be opened. Life is behind it!
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