It was so good and fun to see my aunt again. When I was a kid, I had often been brought there for holidays, and I enjoyed playing with my cousin (much more than I enjoyed the presence of my sister, what a little snitch!). But now, my cousin was gone for studies; and I, instead of a child, was now a “young man”.

I had not met my aunt in years — I was staying with my parents in the United States and intercontinental travel back then was still uncommon and expensive. She was the same, only older. And so was Edna, her helper. Both women took care of us kids. However, this time, I was alone with them. No cousin, no sister.

“My, how have you grown!”. Both women were amazed at the change from pre-teen to “grown up”, though, as I was freshly eighteen, I did not feel too much “grown up” myself. And since I was by myself with them, they proceeded to pamper me. My first meal was remarkable, the cooking impressive.

In the late afternoon, my aunt excused herself — she had her bridge club, and, besides, I looked a bit tired and would perhaps prefer some rest. I ended up dining with Edna, who was in high spirits — she was cheerful when I was a kid, but clearly this was extra.

“Alex, I suppose that with all that traveling you would like to have a bath.

- Why not, indeed.

- Good. Just like in the good old days! Can you please take it now, so that I can clean up the bathroom after you? You know the way, I suppose.

- Oh, sure. Just let me grab my pajamas.”

So I came to the bathroom, pajamas in hand. It was as I remembered. Basin, chair, bathtub, bidet, closet, with old-fashioned ornamentation. I did not however expect Edna waiting for me, sitting on the bathtub rim, wearing an apron.

“So Alex, time to get undressed!”

I stood, dumbfounded, and found nothing to answer.

“Come on, Alex. Just like in the good old days. You remember when your aunt and I bathed your cousin and yourself?”

Oh, did I remember that. Bittersweet memories — actually quite sweet, but with, as I was growing up, some definite embarrassment.

“Alex, don't be shy. You have nothing that I have not already seen many times. I enjoyed bathing you, won't you give me the pleasure of going back to the good old days?”

I was floored. Blushing. Embarrassed. And... I began undoing my shirt, which I hung on the back of the chair, like in the old days. Then undid my trousers, and put them on the chair. Then removed my socks.

“Come on Alex, you won't take a bath in your briefs.”

And so the briefs came down. “Come on, don't be shy. I'm sure you have nothing to be ashamed about. Now that I've seen the rear, can I see the front?”

And so I turned. It was the first adult time that a woman had seen my genitals.

“As I said, how have you grown!” she said, dreamily. “But now back to business. Mmmh. Just like in the old days, what do you think?”

What could I say? “Oh, sure!”, trying to get a countenance.

“Ok, let's do it like in the old days.” and she opened the closet. “We'll use adult ones, this time.”

I then understood — and then hoped that I misunderstood. No, I had understood — Edna was opening a box of glycerin suppositories. My eyes opened wide.

“Come on Alex. You know how it goes. Bend over the bidet and show me your derrière.”

I don't know why I did it, but I did it. Like in the old days when, before a bath, my cousin and myself would receive a suppository to “get us going”. I bent over and laid my hands over the bidet, pushing out my “derrière”. What a sight I must have provided!

I heard some rummaging behind me. “Legs a bit more apart please. Good. Now bear down for me, like going potty.”

And, like the in the old days, I felt the slippery suppository (covered with Vaseline, I guess) enter my rear, followed by Edna's finger, pushing it swiftly inside, then withdrawing.

“Now turn around.”

Don't tell me she'd do that!? But, yes, I turned around. And like in the old days, Edna knelt in front of me, then slowly peeled back my foreskin to its fullest extent, looking at my penis from the front then lifting it to have a look from below. It was the first time that somebody else but me had handled my penis since childhood. It felt strangely good to have it done by a woman.

“Checking for possible irritation and also whether you wash properly”, that was the explanation I got when I questioned this practice when I was a kid. “It's easier with your brother, obviously.” My brother, born in the United States, had been circumcised at birth, as my American father had been; I, born in Belgium, had not been, which seemed unusual and hazardous to my American relatives; thus the extra care taken by my Belgian aunt about my appendage.

I was taken off my childhood recollections by Edna's remark “My! How have you grown there too!”. I blushed (at least I felt like I was blushing).

“Now in the bathtub. As usual, I'll first wash you standing then you will soak in the bath until you need to go to the toilet.”

And so I was washed. Hair first, then rinsed. Then torso and arms, paying special attention to armpits. Then legs and buttocks, even in between. Then the inevitable “please face me”, and the washing and rinsing of my genitals, including the inevitable peeling of the foreskin.

Then I was left to soak in the bath. “Call me when you feel like going to the toilet.”

So I soaked. It was quite pleasant after all that trip and the day with my over-enthusiastic aunt and the eager Edna. The melting glycerin in my rectum however had begun its action, an urge was building up.

“Edna? I'm getting out.”

And so, Edna, who was folding clothes in the nearby laundry room, reappeared with a towel. She began drying me, again paying extra attention to nooks and crannies including my genitals. Then once she was sure she had left no wet spot, she playfully gave me a light slap on the buttocks and told me to put on my pajama top and go have a good bowel movement. “Then after you're done come back to me here.”

And so I did. Like a Shakespearean king on his throne, I began marveling about the vagaries of existence, such as having had my penis handled more in one hour with Edna than in all my feeble attempts at getting a girlfriend to “lend a hand”, so to speak. But my throne was of porcelain, and I was defecating in it.

I came back to Edna. “Have you washed your hands? Good.” Ah, this mixture of being treated like a little child, and like a pleasantly male young man... “Now on the bidet facing the tap.”

And so I sat, in this position that opens the buttocks and makes the anus open up. Edna washed my derrière with washcloth and soap, then rinsed me. And then I stood, had to bend over again, and my buttocks were dried.

All these ministrations had had an effect on my appendage. I had, during the washing, become hard, but Edna had chosen to ignore it. But when I stood from the bidet, my half-erect penis prominently displaying itself, Edna glanced at it, then looked at me straight in the eyes, and, while tapping her fingers lightly over it, asked me “So... it looks like you're enjoying my care?”. And this tapping got me harder. I did not know what to answer. I was probably red with embarrassment.

“Tell me, Alex, is this the first time that a woman touches you there... at least since you were a child?”. I nodded. Her voice was changed; this was not Edna's usual cheerfulness, there was something else in there.

“Would you like to be taught some more?” I stared at her. Then slowly nodded. “Let's go to your room.”

I did not have much to remove (I was still in my pajama tops only; Edna, always practical, was carrying the bottom). Edna took off her dress and her underwear. She was old, had her share of wrinkles, but somehow her body did not seem unattractive. I stood, looking at her. I saw her welcoming bosom, her graying pubic hair.

“So is it the first time you've seen a naked woman?”. And indeed it was, apart from a few nudes from racy magazines smuggled by friends — at least since I was a little child and mother undressed in front of me.

I did not know what to do. Obviously, Edna knew better. She soon embraced me, holding me between her arms and pressing me. It felt warm, heavenly. Her hands were all over my back... and my buttocks, and soon she was frankly “petting” me down there. I soon got over my timidity and started feeling her. Her flesh was soft, a bit fat, but not considerably so.

“Alex! You big boy! Now kiss me.”

And since I hesitated, she showed me how to kiss on the lips. And petted and petted me. My penis was now upright, and her breathing raucous.

She gently pushed me over my bed. Then she covered me with kisses. Her eyes were gleaming. Then she did something that I had never expected... she started sucking on my glans. It felt good. I would never had had the nerve to ask a girl to do that! It made probably sense after a bath, I thought.

Edna was now in full steam. In our culture, we are brought up with the idea that the male has to lead sexual contact; but there I was clearly led. And soon I was on my back, and Edna was climbing over me... Then she rubbed my penis between her thighs, in this secret place of women... And then, she slowly lowered herself on me. It felt heavenly.

Friends of mine joked about “fucking” girls. I could certainly not say I was “fucking” Edna... she was fucking me. I was pinned down on the bed, my penis trapped in her, experiencing the most exquisite sensations it had ever felt. She was moving, moving...

And then I ejaculated. A wave of contentment, soon followed by a wave of tiredness. And limpness. Edna got off me and laid next to me, holding me close to her.

“But, Edna... I mean, I cannot become a father!”. She giggled.

“Alex, you have a lot to learn. Older women like myself cannot have babies! Oh my. Do you want me to teach you some more while you stay here?

- Yes, please, Edna.”

By then everything was taking its toll on me and I felt like sleeping. Besides, auntie would soon come back from her evening out. I put on my pajamas, Edna dressed, and left with a wink.