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The next day my uncle again went out, this time to a parish meeting. I was watching TV, when my aunty came and sat in the living room with me, and asked me if I thought what I had done yesterday was wrong. I muttered an embarrassed reply that I supposed so but felt a little restrained without any proper friends, she asked if I was refering to girls and I told her I was. She then held my hand and told me that she had been a little harsh with me the other day and that she thought it was natural for a young man my age to have these urges, admitting she too had urges. Then she told me how she had one of these urges the other day whilst watching me wank into her panties, and how she became angry because she couldn't act on it with me being her nephew. Then she asked if I though she was attractive, I looked at her, she had undone her hair from the usual bun she wore it in, and its blonde waves flowed across her shoulders. Her face seemed somehow different, a little make up and for the. And I filled the bucket. Mortified, but relieved to be successful, I squeezed Terry’s hand back and whispered, ‘OK, we’re ready.’ We crawled to the door, Terry carefully pushing the main ingredient bucket on the cart, me sliding my very-personal contribution across the tiled floor – until we were right at the door. The reality of what was happening then hit us. Hands-and-knees in the dark – in a restroom with armed criminals somewhere outside the door, the strong odors of – the 4 ingredients – assaulting our noses, about to do something which would ultimately be very heroic – or very very stupid. I heard the rustle of Terry’s pants being removed, then felt the cloth against my hand. We were positioned. Terry ready to open the door and roll the cart out, me ready to dump my bucket into the big one, carefully shove the cart, then slam the door and hold it tight while Terry blocked the bottom with the pants. ‘OK…’ I whispered, ‘On 3.’ I could barely breathe. My mind was racing and my.
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