Aunt Flo #1

series: number 1



Aunt Flo


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My Dad and his brother were close. They were both long haul truck drivers for the same company. Only a year apart in age, they, along with their wives, spent a lot of time together when they were not on the road. When the men were away, Mom and Flo were constant companions. With 3 kids in my family, no kids in Flo’s, Aunt Flo was around our house more often then not. Mom got dressed every day, with make up and hair-do. Aunt Flo was more relaxed about her appearance. Mostly she wore a housedress, no make-up. She wouldn’t catch your eye. It seemed to me as young boy that Aunt Flo needed constant attention. She had asthma and diabetes. She always had a handkerchief in her hand or tucked under her sleeve. Plain as she was, Aunt Flo was the object of my earliest fantasies. Being around my house all the time since I was born, we were after all, family. Close family. Flo and Sam lived 3 houses up the block. Twice a day she had to give herself an injection. The best site to inject was her ass cheek. She couldn’t reach that easily and hurt herself once. My Mom would inject her there. So thousands of times I saw her bend over the kitchen table and hike her dress over her waist. Mom would pull the plain cotton bloomers aside and inject the medication. I was seeing Aunt Flo’s ass in real time, in my dreams and in my sexual fantasies. Aunt Flo was my babysitter too. My Mom worked part time years before it became fashionable. She worked in a store, noon to seven, four times a week. When Mom was out, Flo had to inject herself. Not comfortable injecting her ass, she used the soft area of her inner thigh. She would sit on the hard edge of a kitchen chair, hoist her dress up to her waist, open her legs wide to search for a previously unused site. For the needle to enter the flesh without pain, the best technique is to take up a large pinch of flesh, (ass or thigh) and inject there. With her head down she wasn’t concerned with me watching. I was part of the landscape, there all the time, like a piece of furniture. There wasn’t anything sexual between Flo and Mom. It wasn’t taken as a sexual thing when Mom told Flo, “it’s hard to hold the panties aside, pinch the flesh and do the injection. Why don’t you pull your pants down?” So the procedure evolved to doing the injection with panties down. Very often Flo would go one better and not wear panties at all, in the interest of quicker and easier access to the injection sites. OK by me. I was enjoying clearer and unobstructed views of her ass crack and pussy twice a day. Learning her schedule, I was always positioned to play on the floor or be in the right place at the right time for a good look, whoever or wherever the shot took place. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve jerked off, visualizing her legs open, head bent forward, her hanging down, and the dark hairs of her pussy calling for my attention. Or, Aunt Flo bent over the table with her ass up high and exposed, with the full mound of her pussy, “pouting” down between her legs. All this “food for fantasy” was impossible to ignore. It crowded out all the potential sexual arousal available to a High School senior. I was now obsessed with my Aunt Flo. Quite a few times, making believe I was unaware, Aunt Flow would have one hand inside her dress caressing her breasts. When I saw that going on I would make believe I was very focused on some task. After massaging her breasts a while, she would play with her pussy. She would sit on the couch watching TV. With one leg on the floor and the other up on the cushions, she would look around to see if I was looking. When satisfied I was occupied, she would finger fuck herself. Three to five times a day, in my thoughts, I was injecting, kissing, licking and fucking my Aunt Flo, jerking off everywhere, anywhere I could. Then it all fell apart. Sam and Flo moved across town.



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