‘Come, auntie help you.’
Those four words, still triggered memories of my past when I was around primary school age. She was one of my first tuition teachers, and was very close to my mom. Because it happened decades ago, I could only vaguely remember that it started from the the tuition centre underneath her block, followed by its closure and the continuance of my tuition at either my home or her place.
She was the patient kind of teacher, and if my memory served me right, I have never seen her got angry. So there wasn’t any fear when she hung out with my mom (and I) during their grocery shopping at the nearby markets. She had two daughters, slightly younger than I was, but they weren’t involved in this story I’m about to share.
When the tuition moved into my home, my mom would frequently leave me alone with her and head out to run errands, since someone was watching over me and I wasn’t the type to go anywhere in an era of no cell phones. I could not recall exactly when did it began, but once my mom announced her departure, auntie ‘Jesslyn’ would begin to slide her hand into my shorts, snaking upward until she had my tiny boyhood between her fingers.
She never once looked at me during those times, but her hand never stopped playing with my dick. She would toy with me until it went hard, and slip her hand out to ‘resume’ tutoring. Then, when my focus returned to its rightful state, her fingers would fiddle my dick again, sometimes over my shorts, sometimes inside of it.
I was asked to announce whenever I felt like ejaculating, unlike the first ever occurrence of it threw her into a panic to clean me up and leave no evidence of it. Every shot went into a piece of toilet paper my family had used for everything, and I was locked into this ‘routine’ none of us cared if it was illegal.
Soon, that handjob escalated.
One time (at home), I was asked to stand, and she kind of bent over while seated, to suck me off. I didn’t know what was ‘attraction’ or ‘lust’, I just let it happen as she sucked me up and down, almost noiseless while my body shivered to her deeper strokes. As usual, my exclamation of ‘I’m shooting’, readied her for my incoming load and she no longer went for the tissues. Just sucking and waiting for all of it to exit my body before she raised her chest.
I don’t recall missing a single lesson, not that I had liked what she did, but it was her who made sure my mom got her money’s worth of ‘tuition’. My exam results were quite consistent, so that arrangement just kept going.
Whenever the tuition happened at her place, she would be in a sleep dress. Those calf-length kind that were anything but sexy. She would ask me to help her, while she massaged me at my groin. Her bush was thick, and cellulite covered her thighs. Again, there were no ‘attraction’ or ‘disgust’ in my eyes, just ‘favours’ and ‘assistance’.
My fingers would be rummaging inside her pussy because she didn’t tell me what else to do besides ‘keep your fingers inside’, but she knew exactly how to make me moan and shiver with her mouth around my dick. At her place, I would cum at least twice, once before, and another time after. Her husband and daughters would coincidentally be out most of the time, and she never formally introduced me to any of them.
A few times, it happened someplace else. There was a multi-storey carpark at where the supermarket and wet markets were. She would bring me to the staircase, pull my pants down, and suck me off right there and then. Of course, I was much older when I realised how unbalanced the ‘deal’ was, since she was always got me off no matter if I did anything in return. There were also other spots where it happened, but mostly one-off out of sheer luck.
I wasn’t sure if she was that skilled or just lucky. Because she had never once tried to force any opportunities. Every time it happened, it happened on one of those days my mom would either be shopping with her, or on a tuition day, or on a casual dinner day (with my mom present). And amongst those times, I would ‘happen’ to be alone with her for a short period of time, and things then happened.
There was one time I could remember, calling her at her home and asking for her. I was feeling sad for some reason, and thought of her – for some reason. I made up some excuse to my mom about my homework and left the house, only for her to bring me to another block of flats, for the longest, most comforting blowjob I had ever received.
We barely said a few words, and she was just there sitting on some steps while I leaned against the wall with my shorts down, hands pinned against the wall and my butt, while she savoured my cocktail sausage. After cumming, I felt better instantly. And strangely, remained hard enough for her to extract a second load out of me. That night, I slept so well I woke up with the kind of mindset that no bad feelings can’t be fixed by auntie ‘Jesslyn’.
Things ended two years later after I moved to my grandparents’ house, which was right next to my secondary school. There was no addiction to fix, no unsound mind to right, and no deep scars to heal. The new environment, new friends, and new schedule kept me too busy to catch up with anyone from my primary school.
I never had sex with her, so I was still a virgin. I didn’t knew what ‘pleasure’ was then, so I didn’t think she was after the pleasure I gave so little of. I didn’t seek out, nor have any preference for any blowjob-related skillset, so nothing was imprinted. All that was left from my history with her was the routine of getting placed in front of a wall while she pulled my pants down, and the countless times I had cummed in her mouth and on her palm.
Thinking back, and if I had to imagine her looks from my last memory of her, I would just say that she was a convenient outlet who did what she did to satiate some kind of inner desires or agenda for something she wanted.