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Aunt Natalie had never married. He certainly seemed very upset by her loss, and as we talked on the front terrace of her house he took my hand and I comforted him.And it seemed quite natural for me to comfort him in any way I could. Words didn't seem enough. I kissed him and then pressed him between his legs. And his hand going up my skirt in response seemed equally comforting for me too. The touch of his fingers on my wet kang kang seemed like an act of kindness. This wasn't sex as I'd ever known it before. This was something altogether different. It seemed quite natural, almost like in a dream, that I should go round to the back of my Aunt's house and lift up my skirt and pull down my pantyhose and knickers to have sex with this stranger who'd I'd only met at the funeral service about an hour earlier. There was little foreplay - just the sex-act itself. His eager thrusts nearly lifting me off the ground as he did me up against the kitchen wall.I guess it must have been over in. "Sweet..." I thought as I put it on. I rolled my eyes as it turned out to be a sex scene. I knew I should change the channel or look away but I couldn't. I felt my juices dripping through my thong to my shorts. I watched the woman moan while the man rammed in and out of her. An idea came to my mind and I clicked off the TV. It was a sunny day, and my father was outside chilling in the pool. I quickly stripped off all my clothes as I put on my new leopard print bikini on. I tiptoed outside and saw him reading a sports magazine, lying on one of the lounge chairs. I bit my lip as I checked him out, no shirt, loose trunks and sunglasses. I nonchalantly walked by him, not even acknowledging his presence. I spread out my towel on the lawn of my backyard and took out my sun block. I snuck a glance at him and saw him gape at me and take off his sunglasses. I smiled to myself. Yeah, this bikini I was wearing was two sizes to small. The lycra triangles covered only my nipples, and just barely..
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