Part One
Beth and Claire had not crossed paths, except for phone calls, FaceTime, and email exchanges, for almost half a decade. Despite the long intervals between in-person visits, the two sisters remained close. It had been that way since their childhood days in England. The two women had both “married well” and settled into their lives on opposite sides of the Atlantic — Beth in Los Angeles, Claire in Paris. They had both managed successful careers and met the demands of being both wives and mothers. When Beth’s marriage had ended in divorce several years prior, Claire had been the first person to reach out to Beth to make sure her older sister was alright. Since her divorce, with her adult children having fled the nest to attend university on the East Coast, connections with friends and family had become a greater priority. So, when Beth received the silver embossed invitation to the wedding of Claire’s daughter that Summer in Europe, she was delighted to accept. For Beth, it would be a welcome opportunity, after too many canceled or deferred plans, for whatever reason, to spend some happy times with her sister and her sister’s family.
True to Claire’s penchant for luxury, the wedding was to be a very tasteful but expensive affair. Rather than settling on Paris as a setting for her daughter Amelie’s wedding, the family had arranged for the ceremony and reception to take place in southeastern Spain, in the pretty, sun-soaked town near Marbella, on the Costa del Sol. Although sparing no expense on the wedding itself, the relatively small guest list ensured that it would also be a pleasantly intimate one. As event planner extraordinaire, Claire had arranged for all the wedding guests to be housed in the same gorgeous, oceanfront resort hotel, each private little guesthouse, or Parador, mere steps from a pristine beach and the Mediterranean Sea.
After her very long, transatlantic flight, Beth arrived in sunny Spain and checked in to the resort. Her private and spacious guesthouse, with its elegant decor and spa-like amenities, was a welcome oasis of calm after numerous connections and time-zone changes. She called her sister from her room, announced her arrival, and arranged to have dinner with her family that evening in the nearby village. After unpacking, she slipped under the luxurious sheets of her king-size bed for a delicious midday nap.
She awoke an hour later feeling like she’d taken the edge off her jetlag, supplementing her recovery with a restorative shower. Afterward, standing in just a semi-sheer bra and panties, while gently applying moisturizer to her legs, Beth soberly assessed her curvy reflection in the floor-length bathroom mirror. Beth had always been the brainy beauty of the family, combining a formidable intellect with an equally formidable figure. She had always struggled with having to reconcile a bookish shyness with a body that drove men to distraction. Even as a young girl, she possessed a very large bust for her age, a fact that no number of baggy sweaters could obscure. With her then raven-coloured hair, cantilevered chest, womanly hips, and fecund derriere, she never quite knew what to do with all the male attention she received. The black-rimmed glasses and standoffish demeanour only succeeded in exacerbating her predicament and the air of mystery she evoked in the eyes of the opposite sex. Imagine a young, very top-heavy Page Three Girl with a satchel full of Proust books and the mind of a pointy-headed intellectual, and you begin to form an accurate picture of her younger self. Admirers from behind never failed to notice her almost rudely sexualized gait — the natural and unaffected result of a narrow waist, relatively wide hips, and a curvy, ample behind.
At fifty-eight, the hair was now an expensively coiffed and tinted silvery-white, to mask the salt and pepper. Her hips and derriere were decidedly wider and larger, post birthing of her three, now adult, children — and though her tummy was relatively trim, there were more than a few traces of cellulite that could not be ignored. Good genes and the combination of swimming and Pilates had slowed the effects of age and gravity Most mercifully of all, considering her bra size, Beth’s heavy bust remained relatively buoyant. Requiring a size 30D bra by the time she finished secondary school, Beth had continued to blossom well into her late twenties. Post pregnancies, and now in her late fifties, she shopped in specialty lingerie shops for bras size 34JJ. Complimenting her curvaceous figure, Beth had a soft, mellifluous voice. She’d maintained her English accent despite her years in the United States, a characteristic Los Angelenos found charming.
A little while later, she met and double-kissed Claire and her family in the restaurant, feeling refreshed. Having married a Frenchman, and raised several children in France, Beth’s younger sister had long since fully acclimated to her adopted country across the Channel. Claire was a fluent French-speaking Parisienne now, and France was her home. Like her older sister, she exuded an understated sophistication in style, manners, and carriage.
Having not seen them in almost five years, Beth almost felt like she was meeting Claire’s children for the first time, such was the degree to which they had grown up and matured. Amelie, the eldest, with her fiancé by her side, was a beautiful woman in her own right, Margot, the middle child, and in her mid-twenties, was equally lovely. But it was their youngest, Lucas, who truly caught Beth’s eye. Lucas had been adopted from Eastern Europe when he was a baby. Now sixteen, he had morphed from a shy, gangly pubescent boy into a conspicuously handsome and well-spoken teenager. With his native Romanian colouring — jet black hair, brooding green eyes, and sensuous lips – dazzling smile, and heavily French-accented (albeit fluent) English, he was clearly going to cause a great number of females hearts to flutter in the years to come.
The group of them enjoyed a lovely dinner together, the wine and laughter flowing freely. Claire and her family had often holidayed in the area and knew it well, and the conversation turned to the surrounding areas and the sites worth seeing. Beth’s sister offered up her young son as Beth’s private tour guide during her two-week stay. Beth took pity on the beautiful young man and said that it wasn’t necessary, suggesting that he likely had a lot more fun things to occupy his time than to tour around with an old lady. Despite her sister’s graceful decline, Claire would have no part of it.
“I would love to show you around, Auntie Beth,” offered Lucas, with a shy, disarming smile. “Yesterday, I rented a Lambretta scooter for the week. Tomorrow’s the wedding, but after that, we can explore the area together. It’s so beautiful, and I know all the best places.”
Beth was flattered and happily accepted her handsome nephew’s kind offer.
The next day, the family was abuzz with the excitement of Amelie and her fiancé’s big event. Amelie looked absolutely beautiful in an understated white wedding dress and delicate baby’s breath flowers in her hair. Beth had chosen a simple, tasteful A-Line dress in a Summery, mauve chiffon. She worried that the synched belt and slightly lower cut drew too much attention to her bust, but the dress was mercifully cool to wear in the Spanish heat, and it made her feel feminine and attractive. The flowy hem made her less conscious about what she perceived to be a larger behind.
The ceremony was an intimate affair, attended by about thirty of forty guests, all looking fabulous in their lovely Summer frockery and tailored suits. Afterwards, everyone congregated in a lovely outdoor reception area beneath Gothic arches and lattices of greenery and flowers, with an expansive patio overlooking the ocean. Once again, the champagne flowed freely, and everyone in attendance seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. Beth loved weddings because they were such happy events — people looked their best, love was in the air, and everyone was in a good mood and ready to dance.
Music was provided, and people soon began to take advantage of the dance floor. In deference to the older members of the group, the music began with an assortment of jazz and Latin tunes suitable for pairs. Beth was happily chatting with a cousin when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She turned around in her chair to face a beaming Lucas.
“May I have this dance, Auntie Beth?” he asked, ever the polite gentleman.
Beth had found herself admiring her young nephew from the moment he first appeared at the church that morning in his slim-fit black suit. He was a gorgeous young boy. In addition to being tall, he looked like a young movie star in that well-tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, and elegant silver tie. For some women, a man in a suit holds the same level of appeal as a woman in lingerie does for a man, and Beth counted herself in that number. So, when Lucas offered Beth his hand, she smiled and accepted.
Beth loved to dance, and it had always been a source of frustration that her ex-husband so obviously did not. On occasions such as this, she would have normally spent the night sitting at her table, so it was a welcome change, and a genuine pleasure, that she found herself with such an eager young dance partner. Lucas was quite adept on the dance floor, too, so much the better. They danced together for several songs, and Beth enjoyed the closeness and her nephew’s lovely-smelling cologne.
In truth, it wasn’t just dancing that Beth missed. Since her divorce, there had been only intermittent dating, and nowhere near the amount of affection, romance, or zesty lovemaking that she craved. She had always been somewhat frustrated in that regard, given her husband’s sex drive never came close to matching her own. But having already been formidable in her forties, her sex drive now seemed only to be increasing in intensity into her late fifties. That being the case, take a fifty-eight-year-old, sexually ravenous woman, dress her up and make her feel sexy, add a few too many glasses of champagne, and put her in the arms of a handsome young teenager on the dance floor (albeit an adopted nephew practically young enough to be her grandson), and you have a recipe for some inappropriately flirtatious comments.
“You look so beautiful, Auntie Beth,” gushed Lucas, with innocent, disarming sincerity.
“Well, young man,” countered Beth, with a mischievous smile, “I thank you for your lovely compliment. Let me tell you, if I were forty years younger, you would be in a great deal of danger!”
“Oh?” he said smiling; his face going a bit flush. “What do you mean?”
“Well, let’s just say that if I were your age, the chances of you getting inside my panties tonight would be very, very good.”
A broad, bashful smile formed across Lucas’s mouth, and he blushed perceptibly in reaction to his aunt’s rather forward, champagne-induced comments, which only succeeded in endearing him to her even more.
“So, in summary,” added Beth in mock thought. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous, tall, charming, mature beyond your years, you’re a wonderful dancer, and you seem to have a way of making women say things they shouldn’t. I can only hope for your poor parents’ sake that you have a penis the size of my ex-husband’s, as in rather small; otherwise, women will be breaking into your house in the middle of the night just to get at you.”
Lucas could only smile at his aunt’s brazen, booze-induced comment.
After several dances, the older woman confessed to feeling a little light-headed. Beth’s gallant young nephew escorted her out onto the patio for some fresh air. She thanked him for the dances and gently kissed him on the cheek, wiping a little lipstick smear from his cheek like a doting mother.
For Beth, the excess of champagne meant the rest of the night was all a bit of a blur to her the next day. Indeed, she could only vaguely remember Lucas helping her back to her guest house that night, a little wobbly on her open-toed heels, yet awoke to find herself under the sheets of her bed in just her lacy bra and thong panties — her heels, dress, and jewelry, all neatly assembled across the loveseat by her bed.
Coffee and croissants restored her. Yet despite her foggy head, she was not so wanting in terms of memory to forget saying some naughty and inappropriate things to her nephew. Slightly horrified upon reflection, she sighed and committed herself to making amends later that day. She only hoped that she hadn’t embarrassed herself too greatly and that no one else, especially her sister, had heard. Hopefully, young Lucas would take pity on his poor, horny Aunt and say nothing to Claire.
She had just exited her suite, dressed in sandals, a short, flowy skirt, and a relatively low-cut blouse, when she heard a honk from the steps below. It was a smiling Lucas, perched atop his shiny Lambretta scooter.
‘Oh dear,’ thought Beth. But before she could offer a word of apology for the night before, Lucas launched into his plans to take her along the coast to a lovely seaside restaurant for lunch. Claire and the rest of the family would be busy getting Amelie and her new husband ready for their honeymoon departure the next day, and Lucas’s mother had asked him to take his auntie to see a bit of the beautiful coastline. Ready for her morning adventure, Beth straddled the scooter behind her young charge, and off they went.
The coastline was indeed stunning, and the feeling of the salty breeze in her silvery-white hair was exhilarating. She indulged herself in a quiet little tease by pressing her large bosom firmly against Lucas’s warm, strong back. It soon became clear that a short, flowy skirt was not an ideal choice for riding on the back of a scooter. Sailing along the coastal road, the wind kept blowing up her skirt, revealing her lacy white thong panties beneath.
“Oh!” gasped Beth, as a gust blew up her skirt, exposing her fleshy derriere.
After touring around all morning, they found a lovely little spot for lunch. The restaurant was in an old, stone house that overlooked the ocean, and it was impossible to overlook the understated romance of the setting. The smell of flowers and citrus permeated the inside of the house.
Sitting across from each other, shaded by ornate trellises garlanded with greenery and flowers above, Beth finally offered a heartfelt apology for her behaviour from the night before. Again, ever the gentleman, Lucas assured her there was no need, that he’d had so much fun dancing with her. A few buttons of his shirt were undone, and she couldn’t help but admire the suggestion of his strong, tanned, and hairless chest. In truth, she had practically drooled at the view of his sculpted behind in his tight white jeans as they’d entered the restaurant together, that underlying horniness having returned.
They enjoyed their lunch of delicious tapas, and Beth genuinely delighted in her nephew’s gracious company and charming conversation. After briefly turning to admire the ocean view, Beth returned her gaze to Lucas, catching her handsome young nephew looking at her in a way that was not like she had been looked at in some time. Above her low-cut neckline, a deep line of cleavage and the top of her bra had become visible. Although he’d quickly averted his eyes, there was something transparently sexual about how he had looked at her. Realizing how much it had excited her, she tried her best to push aside the reality of her reaction. There was no harm in thinking it, she thought to herself, but feelings could be dangerous, and she endeavoured to put the moment behind them.
Perhaps to overcome the awkwardness of the moment, and to lighten the mood, Beth began quizzing Lucas about his teenage trysts and romances, a beaming, maternal smile forming on her lip-sticked lips. Lucas was slightly chagrinned by her motherly inquisition and blushed, a response Beth found completely endearing, prompting her to want to hug him.
When pressed, he confessed to having had very little success with girls his age, at least beyond the initial crush stage, something Beth found difficult to believe, given his looks and charm. But he was clearly being genuine, even a little melancholic. He claimed not to be able to relate very well to girls his age, and that he found them immature and superficial.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asked with maternal softness.
Lucas answered that he had, just once, and Beth was curious to hear what was, doubtless, a touching story of the girl who’d stolen his heart for the very first time. Naturally, she expected it to involve a young girl in her teens, so she was shocked in the extreme when he revealed that it had been a woman in her early fifties!
Stunned by the revelation, Beth felt compelled to press further. Did his parents know about it? No came the answer. Who was she? The wife of a friend of his mother as it turned out. ‘My god,’ she thought to herself, ‘married no less!’ How long did it last? Several months, was Lucas’s reply. Had she broken his heart? Very much so, came the gorgeous teen’s downhearted response. On that note, Lucas’s face appeared quite forlorn. Beth reached across the table and gently placed the palm of her hand against his cheek.
“Oh, darling, I’m so very sorry.”
Finally, she had one last question: had they been intimate?
“Yes,” he answered. “It was difficult at first, but then we had sex so much.”
“Difficult?” asked Beth, not understanding what he meant.
Her nephew seemed reluctant to say more and averted his eyes. Beth placed her hand on his, leaned forward, and looked up into his downcast eyes.
“You can tell me, darling — I’m your auntie,” she said tenderly. “Please, don’t be shy.”
“My…penis,” he whispered, bashfully.
Beth felt her cheeks…