Back in the seventies, you just left school and found a job. I didn’t know what I wanted to do and after a couple of jobs I didn’t like, I started working for small printing company. It was a family run business, the owner was Mr Davis, but he wasn’t in the office much. His son, who preferred to be called Rod, ran the day-to-day things. Then there was their secretary Rita Robertson, she was the sort of middle-aged woman whose word was law and nobody dared to argue with. I had been working there about five months before we had the company’s Christmas outing. It was going to be dinner, a night drinking in the city and a hotel stay. It sounded great and I would be an adult for the night. At seventeen, you think you can handle alcohol, but I drank a bit too much during the meal. I thought I was fine, but then we hit the town and after a couple of pubs, I was feeling very unsteady. Rod decided to we should go to a strip show and we all lined up outside the club. “He’s not eighteen, he can’t come in.” The bouncer eyed me up, I swayed as I tried to remember what my birth date should be if I had been old enough. “It’s alright Rod; I’m not a great one for strip joints. I’ll go back to the hotel with him,” Mrs Robertson had spoken. I felt like I was back at school and she was the headmistress. Sitting in the hotel bar Mrs. R. ordered two Irish coffees. This was new to me, the hot coffee and strong whiskey burnt my throat. She seemed more relaxed in the bar drinking her coffee; stretching her long legs out, she almost lay in the chair. I started to notice her large breasts as they heaved with escort every breath; my eyes kept drawing to them. Then, as she shuffled in her seat, I caught glimpses of her stocking top and creamy white thigh. She was at least my Mum’s age but I still found her very sexy. “Time you went to bed young man,” she commanded. I finished my coffee and dutifully followed her. We walked up the stairs to the first floor of the hotel and I turned to climb the second flight to my room. “Not so fast young man, I want a word with you in private.” I knew she had caught me taking an eyeful of her thigh and stocking tops, and I probably hadn’t been too discrete about looking at her cleavage as well. She took hold of my tie and led me towards her room, then pushed me through the door in front of her. I knew I was in trouble. “Now young man, you have spent this evening trying to see up my skirt or look down blouse. Now it’s very rude…” I started to stutter an apology, but she silenced me with a finger held to my lips. “It’s very rude to do that and not to say how attractive you think the woman is. Kevin, do you know what an Aunty is when she is not a relative?” I didn’t. “Well, it’s an older woman that teaches a young man like you about sex. I know what girls your age are like, they won’t do this or don’t like that. Now, I’m an experienced mature woman who doesn’t mind sharing her experience with somebody younger.” I was dumbfounded I had expected a telling off, or even a warning from the boss, but not Mrs Robertson wanting sex with me. I was excited and scared at escort bayan the same time. “So Kevin if you promise never to tell anybody about tonight, I’m going to become your Aunty and I’m giving you a big green light to do what you want. Since you have spent the evening looking at my breasts why don’t you help me take my blouse off, then you can hold and enjoy them.” Rita started to undo the buttons on her cuffs; my fingers fumbled the buttons at the front. She let her blouse fall from her shoulders revealing her breasts as they spilled from their cups. Placing a hand behind my head, she coaxed me down onto them. The smell of her perfume intoxicated me with lust. I kissed one breast gently to see what she would do. She pushed my head closer into the valley between them, then taking my hand and she placed it on one of her soft white mounds. “You play with that Lovey,” she coaxed me. My girlfriend breasts were so much smaller and she only let me touch them if she was in the mood. These were warm, soft globes with rubbery nipples waiting to be sucked. I heard the noise of a zip being opened and a swish as her skirt fell to the floor. Then she gently pushed me away, Aunty stood in front of me in stockings, suspender belt, bra and knickers. It was like a page I’d seen in my mum’s home shopping catalogue that was entitled ‘For Those Special Nights’. My mother always tutted and hurriedly turned the offending pages over when she got to that part of the book. Now here was a woman my mother’s age wearing these cloths and offering to teach me about bayan escort sex. “Let’s get these cloths off you shall we Kev?” Aunty said starting to undress me, in moments I stood naked except for my Y fronts conscious of my stiff dick making them bulge. Stunned and terrified, I was hornier than I had ever felt in my life; Rita cupped my balls with one hand and peeled the waistband of my pants down with the other. Her soft fingers bounced my balls gently, “When did your girlfriend last empty these for you?” She asked. I told her that my girlfriend was frightened about getting pregnant, so I had to wear a sheath, but not allowed to cum in her. “Well Lovey, that’s not a problem for me.” She gripped my cock in her hand and rubbed her thumb over my piss hole. “You’re leaking already, you’re not going to last long are you Lovey? Better give Aunty Rita a treat first. Do you know how to French Kiss? I nodded. She pushed me gently onto the bed and pulled my pants off, laying on my back my stiffy stood out like a flagpole from body. I watched as she unclipped her bra and let her tits swing free. They were two of three times bigger than my girlfriend’s and those nipples were so long. Next, she slid her knickers down and smiled at me; still wearing the stockings, suspenders and the high-heeled shoes, she climbed onto the bed beside me. “Well you go down there and French kiss me.” Aunty pushed my head between her legs. I had never kissed a girl there before and wasn’t sure what to do. The two girlfriends that had let me see their pussy’s had lips that always seemed to be squeezed together, but these were big and wide open. At last, I understood what men in the pub meant when they talked about beef curtains or saddlebags. I pushed my tongue into her hole not knowing quite what to do; I expected it to be disgusting, but it tasted slightly tangy and felt slippery on my tongue.