Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click herePart 1:
Death is not only the mother of beauty as the poem goes but also the mother of opportunity...
So it was with the passing of a favorite Aunt who left this mortal realm one damp Autumn morning in October. The mourning days passed as my mother grieved for a beloved sister as her life became fond memories told as stories to those of us left behind. Time waits for no one. Life moves on. And with the reading of my Aunt's will, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined even in my wildest dreams.
Here is that story.
*
A few days after her funeral, I found myself standing outside my Aunt's bungalow which she had bequeathed me during the settling of her estate. Number 145 Maple Drive was situated at the far side of a square cul-de-sac made up of four similar single bedroomed homes. It was part of a larger neighborhood made up mostly of elderly retirees or widows/widowers who wanted nothing more than to enjoy the quiet life while doing a bit of gardening.
To me, it was perfect. I worked from home and the peace and quiet were exactly what I was looking for as I had already made plans to move out from my parent's place. At the age of twenty, I figured it was time to bail out of the family nest and find my own way in life.
I walked up the path with a suitcase in one hand and my laptop bag in the other as I finally moved in. The place was already furnished and mom and I had spent a few days going through my Aunt's things and sorting out what to keep and what to give to the local Charity shops on the high street.
When we were finished, we both stood looking at half a dozen black bags piled together in the middle of her kitchen floor. Mom got teary and I gave her a hug.
She blew her nose and patted me on the shoulder. "I know, I know," she sniffed, "These things need to be done. I'm just glad you got this place. I don't think your Uncle George is too happy though."
What? Screw my Uncle George! The man was a miserable and bitter old fart and would probably have sold the bungalow at the drop of a hat.
"Did you know what Aunt Barbra was going to do?" I asked as we sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee.
Mom tried to feign innocence but failed. The woman couldn't lie her way out a paper bag. "Well, no. Not exactly. We didn't really talk about things like that. All I know is you were her favorite and if she was going to leave it to anyone, it would be you."
And she had.
Aunt Barbra had always been a woman on the go. Always front foot forward and doing things to keep her busy. Over the years, she was always the one who came to visit us and it was a rare trip when it was the other way around. So I really didn't know much about the area where she lived and what her neighbors were like. All I knew was that her friends were all single or widowed women and they were younger than her by some years.
"There are four of us," she used to say with a laugh, "I'm the oldest and Captain of this ship." They did everything together; shopping, eating out, movies, day trips, you name it they did it as a close nit group. The best kind of friends to have.
And now my Aunt was gone.
I put the suitcase down and stood to fumble in my coat pockets looking for the keys. An Autumn breeze had sprung up and the old oaks creaked and groaned around me. Suddenly, there was a cough behind me and I turned to find myself looking at three middle-aged mature women who had appeared out of nowhere. Oh. Uh. Hello. So these were my Aunt's good friends who had come out to welcome me into their little corner of the neighborhood.
We stood for a moment awkwardly looking at each other before one of the ladies stepped forward and made introductions.
This lady looked to be in her mid-forties. About five ten in height, with gingery red shoulder length hair, wide green eyes, and with what looked like a full bosomed figure underneath a flowery white blouse tucked into a deep blue pleated skirt. She had a charm and grace about her and a friendly aura that put you immediately at ease with her. I got the impression she was the leader of the troop.
"Ben, right?" she asked, giving me a bright white smile as she reached out her hand.
I took it and shook it gently. "Hi, hello. That's right. I'm Ben. Aunt Barbra was my mother's sister. Nice to meet you."
Compassion flooded her cheeks as she gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go. "Oh, we're all so shocked and sad at your Aunt's passing. So out of the blue. Tell your mom we're asking after her and if there's anything she needs help with she can give us a call anytime."
"Thanks, I will., I replied.
She pressed a hand against her chest. "I'm Angie," She turned and indicated the two women standing beside her, "This is Ruth," she indicated her friend standing next to her, "And this is Sharon," The other woman smiled and nodded at me.
"Hi, hello," I replied, "Nice to meet the both of you. First names okay?"
They all grinned. "Sure thing. Wouldn't have it any other way," said Ruth.
Ruth looked to be slightly older than Angie and she had this awesome halo of jet black hair which she had pulled back tight from her face and twisted it into a long ponytail that curled down to her waist. She had these amazing blue eyes that were well set into a classically defined face with a pert nose and full rosy lips. She was taller than Angie with a full figure and what looked like an outstanding bosom.
Had to admit, all three ladies were seriously impressive to look at - especially to a twenty-year-old who was still dealing with the effects of delayed puberty.
Sharon was interesting. She looked the oldest of the three, early fifties I thought and was more stocky than the other two. Not stocky as in over-weight but stocky as in everything was super defined. Hour glass figure was a phrase invented for a woman like her. If you had to describe or draw a sexy mature woman you'd draw her. She was Marilyn Monroe blonde. Green eyes, a bust that defied gravity, womanly hips that could birth an army and I imagined her ass would be twice as spectacular if she turned around in those tight jeans she was wearing as well as a plain white blouse. She came across as the studious silent type. A woman that would see through any macho bullshit in a second.
Of the three, she was the one who intrigued me the most. I blushed slightly as it suddenly occurred to me that they were all kind of, uh, hot.
As that thought crossed my mind, I gave my head a shake. What the hell are you thinking? They're all more than twice your age! And you've only just met them!
The sooner that delayed puberty took a hike and I got myself a regular girlfriend the better. That was turning out to be the real problem and easier said than done. I had dipped my wick once and got burned pretty bad. All I wanted was a nice girl. Someone to love. Someone to love me back and have sex with a couple of times per week. I am really easy to please.
"We just wanted to say hello and to tell you not to be afraid to get in touch if you need anything while you're settling into your new place. Not that you need to do much. Your Aunt kept this place spick and span." said Angie as I slipped the key into the lock and pushed open the door putting my suitcase and laptop inside.
There was that awkward silence between us again as the conversation dried up. It was probably due to the age difference I guess. I felt like I was talking to my teachers back in high school where you were always unsure of what to say. But they all seemed so nice and eager to help me settle into my new place. I figured I needed to show my appreciation in some way.
"Um, if you're interested," I said, turning to the three of them watching me as I stood there rubbing my hands together nervously, "Ah, I'd like to invite you around later for a drink or two. We can get to know each other and have a house warming party at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone as it were. That is if you haven't made plans or anything. I mean, we can leave it until another time.."
All three shook their heads at once. "NO, no no. We're good to go, right girls?" said Angie quickly, glancing at her two friends, "That's really sweet of you, Ben. We'd love to come over and have a bit of a gossip."
"We'd love to, Ben. We'll come over about seven, okay?" smiled Sharon with a twinkle in her eye.
I held her gaze for a second as Angie and Ruth glanced at each other with a knowing look. A look that I missed as I blinked at the blonde woman in the tight jeans. Sharon broke the spell and slipped her arm through Ruth's.
"Come on, ladies," she winked, "We need to get cooking!"
And with that, they turned tail and walked away chatting amongst themselves as I stood there looking decidedly befuddled. What the hell had just happened?
I had this uneasy feeling that wheels had been set in motion and that something, SOMETHING, was most definitely up.
*
Seven arrived and the kitchen was filled with the smell of freshly baked cherry and apple pie. We all sat around the table, each with a glass of wine in hand just making small talk as they eased me into their own little world.
I sensed they enjoyed the thrill of getting to know someone completely outside of their usual social circle. As time passed, I got to learn more about them and they about me. Though being only twenty, I didn't have much life experience to share with them and that was something they seemed to find so refreshing. They told me how they met my Aunt and all about the fun times they had shared together doing whatever the hell they liked for they were all financially free and independent. All three of them were exceedingly happy with their lot.
One thing that I found slightly odd was that there were no men - or women, come to that - in their lives. Too much fuss and nonsense had been their answer when I had raised my eyebrows.
"Ben," said Angie, who was sat to my immediate right, "We've been there, done that, bought the ticket. Ruth has two grand kids, I've got one on the way and Sharon got all sensible and kicked her old man out."
I smiled at that. Sharon was one impressive lady. We shared a glance as we both took a sip of wine. "Sorry to hear that," I said honestly.
Sharon made a face and waved a hand at me. "Oh hush, divorce is the best thing that ever happened to me. Got me out of the rut. Took a good few years before I saw the light and realized that my life needed a kick up its ass."
She pointed her glass at her friends. "These two had good marriages. But fate can be a real bitch sometimes. They lost their men in the blink of an eye. One moment they were here, next, they were gone. Life is what you make of it and how you deal with what she throws at you. Here we all are," she smiled at Ruth and Angie who reached across and took her hands in theirs, "We've been together for nearly five years now all told. A couple of years in and your Aunt Barbra showed up and we became firm friends just like that," she glanced at the other women listening to her tell the story of how they all came to be together, "Bosom buddies. We all got through our various little adventures and mishaps together. Helping each other out. We trusted each other and always knew we'd be there for each other. It was as simple as that."
I sat listening quietly. It all sounded so wonderful. Perfect. Women were so much more emotionally in tune than men. And I envied them that. To be part of something that bound them together as friends and life companions. No wonder my Aunt had been so happy.
We all sat dwelling in our own thoughts as the kitchen clock ticked softly in the background. The evening sun was beginning to set and the room was cast in long shadows. This would be my first night away from my parent's house and the thought became quite sobering. It felt like I had taken a really big step into a whole new world. A mature world where I would have to make my own decisions and deal with whatever consequences came my way.
And here I was sat drinking wine and eating cherry and apple pie with three mature women who had been complete strangers only a few hours ago.
The strange thing was, I felt like I could talk to them about anything.
*
A week has passed.
Life was much easier. As a family, we had all lived in and around the big city where everything was turned up to the max and that sound you always heard in the background was the constant hum of cosmopolitan life. Time was the master of everyone. There was never enough of it. No time to do this and no time to do that.
Here, you could see, smell, and feel time passing as it was meant to be. Time was a companion, not a curse.
It was a bright but blustery showers kind of day. As usual, I was up and about wandering around in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers deciding when I should start work. I smiled at that. The freedom to choose. Maybe at ten? How about eleven? Or even don't start work until early afternoon? As long as I hit my deadlines, I was the master of my domain.
I stood looking out of my sitting room window as life went on her merry way in the cul-de-sac. Across the square, Angie was already out brushing the fallen leaves away from her drive with Ruth standing beside her looking very animated and they were obviously deep in conversation as Angie stopped and leaned on her broom to listen and nod.
To my surprise, both their heads turned suddenly in my general direction and I quickly stepped back from the window so they wouldn't see me.
What was all that about?
After our initial little get together last week, they had all gone their separate ways later that evening. They had been exceptionally good company and spent their time teasing me in a "when I was your age" kind of way. I didn't mind. I quite enjoyed it. We all got on famously and we arranged to do it all again as soon as possible.
But there was something not quite right about the situation and I couldn't put my finger on why. I chided myself at my over active imagination which I put down to an over abundance of testosterone running through my system.
Not having a girlfriend around to sort out that issue was a problem and I wasn't exactly the sort of guy to go hide in the bedroom and wank himself silly to ease the ache in the old ball sack. To be honest, I'd put my libido at about 5/10 on the fucking scale most of the time. Don't get me wrong. I loved sex. Well, at least the couple of times I'd tried it with that girl from college a few months back. Since then, I was running through a desert with no name and developing a serious case of blue balls.
See, I'm a bit awkward. Both in life and looks. I'm just over six two tall. I'm top heavy broad across the shoulders with a stoop because of it. I'm not overweight or anything. I just look, well, awkward with an unruly mop of curly black hair that has a mind of its own. I was more Fred Flinstone than Tom Cruise. You get the picture.
I yawned and stretched my arms above my head. When I looked out of the window again, I saw that Sharon had joined them and they were laughing and joking about something or other. Hmmm. Sure hope it wasn't about me. I thought I'd handled myself pretty well the other evening. Acted mature. Didn't say or do anything stupid and they seemed to enjoy my company.
It was then I saw Angie heading straight towards me and I ran like a blue arsed fly into the bedroom to jerk on a pair of old jeans just as she knocked on the door.
I opened it to find her standing there with a big grin on her face.
"Hey, Ben," she said cheerily, "Me and the girls were wondering if you're up for a little get together this evening. Sharon just got another divorce cheque in the mail and wants to celebrate. Would love to have you there."
Sure. Absolutely. Sounded great. I had no plans and my deadline wasn't due for another couple of days. "Sure, I'd love to, Angie. Around six?"
"Awesome," she smiled, "We're gonna cook up a storm so don't eat anything before then!" She ran back to the other girls who both waved at me.
Well, at least I wouldn't be stuck in front of the tv tonight.
*
It had gone seven and our little arrangement was in full swing as the beer flowed and the fried chicken, grilled sausages, spaghetti and fries disappeared. We were all sat in Angie's sitting room with the three of them together on the sofa and yours truly parked in a fireside chair.
Nice place. Very feminine with flowers and plants everywhere. The lights were dim and soft music played from the speakers. All in all, I was as mellow as fuck and just sat back enjoying listening to the stories they told. This was definitely the good life as the drink and mood made my mind wander.
"... a girlfriend?" said, someone.
I blinked and sat up slightly confused. They were all looking at me expectantly. Ah, okay, what?
"Excuse me?" I replied, sounding surprised.
Sharon and Angie bit their lips looking like they were going to burst out laughing at the look on my face. What did she say? Girlfriend?
"I was asking if you had a girlfriend," Ruth said again.
I shifted in my seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the attention. "Um, no, not exactly. There was one. A girlfriend. A girl. A few months ago. But it kind of uh went nowhere. Much. Other than the uh," I gulped, feeling myself blushing like an over ripe prune, "The uh, you know, thingy."
Geez, Ben. What was that? I gave them an embarrassed shrug. Change topic ASAP!
But they didn't.
"Well, that's very strange," said Angie, who looked amazing in her black blouse and black slacks with flat heels, "We all thought you'd have the girls falling all over you."
Huh? You what? Are you kidding? Were they teasing me?
"Um, well, you know. I'm not really that good with girls," I said quietly as I took another slurp of my beer. Holy shit, I must sound like a big kid talking like that even if what I said was true. Talking to girls was just the worst, most excruciating, ordeal for someone like me. I'd rather have my teeth pulled.
And yet, here I was, in a room with three of them - just older versions.
"You don't seem to be having any problems talking to us," she replied as she took a sip of her drink and looked at me over the rim of her glass. The woman could read minds and, right now, mine was probably like an open book.
Was that a trick question? I made a face and reached up to fiddle with my right ear. "Well, you're more, ah, uh," What are you saying? Don't go there, you idiot.
"Mature?" said Sharon who was staring at me hard as if she was figuring out what sort of man I was.
Oh boy. Way to go lame brain, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so patronizing."
Ruth, who was sat in the middle of the trio, reached forward and put her glass on the coffee table in front of her. She gave Angie to her right a look, then turned to Sharon who nodded silently as if they had just shared some secret between them.
I was suddenly starting to feel way out of my depth here. Maybe I should call it a night and high tail it out of town. What Ruth said next stopped all that. What she said next had me firmly stuck to my chair in surprise.
"What about that thing," she asked. All three were staring at me intently, "Do you miss the sex?"
*
This is one of those moments where time takes a rain check.
The room was completely still. The only thing I could hear was the thudding of my heart which was lodged somewhere between my ears.
Had I heard right? What the fuck did she just ask? I felt my mouth fall open in shock as her words rattled around inside my brain. Sex, dummy. She asked if you missed sex. How do you respond to a question like that?
"Uh," I tried to say with some difficulty, "I'm not sure I understand."
It was Sharon's turn to sit forward. She was closest to me and I sort of warily inched back in my chair.
"Ruth asked if you missed the sex with your girlfriend."