I drew into the car park at the small Church, but it was full and double parked in places. The Churchyard was empty, so I assumed the service had begun. The nearby lanes were lined with cars. What to do? I left it right in the middle of the car park hoping it left enough room for the other cars to back out after the funeral service. I had not left enough time for the journey from London to the leafy Isle of Purbeck in Dorset for my Uncle Richard’s funeral. When the M27 ended and the A31 began was where I had gone wrong. The traffic through Ringwood and down past Poole I had underestimated. I quietly opened the large wooden door and squeezed inside, the service had started, a hymn was being sung and I sidled into a pew at the back of the Church. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed my Mother’s anxious face looking back at me from the front pews. As the Service ended, I slipped out and stood near my car, so that I would not cause chaos in the car park. My Mother, Father, Uncle Andrew and Aunt Sue eventually came out and my Mother admonished me for being late for her brother’s funeral. She hugged me and whispered an apology for being grumpy, she was very upset. Her youngest brother dying so young. Most of the cars had gone, I had only had to move twice and was then in a parking space. My Mother and Father got into Uncle Andrew’s car and indicated that I should follow. As a started to move the passenger door opened and Aunt Jill, in all her mourning black dress slumped into the seat. ‘Paul, can I come with you? I cannot face another ride in that fucking limousine, with the others. She placed her hand on my thigh and stroked it as I drove away. She eased her hand towards my cock and gripped it through my trousers. Whilst doing this she pulled her dress up revealing her stockings and then her tanned thighs. ‘that’s better’ she said, ‘you are stiffening up’. I was struggling to drive down the country lanes while looking at her thighs and being wanked. This took me back a few years to staying in Dorset. I had spent summers with Aunt Jill & Uncle Richard and their two children, for as long as I could remember. My Uncle was an architect with a London practice and had bought an old ramshackle farm on the Dorset coast. The farmhouse had been extensively restored and a barn converted into a studio for him to work in and then he leased the remaining land and buildings to a neighbouring farmer. The house was magnificent full of nooks and crannies, attic rooms and a cellar. It was about a mile through footpaths to the cliff tops and hidden beaches not generally accessed by the public. Unless you knew the pathways down from the Coastal Footpath, it was impossible to get there. We found the way down and spent many happy hours swimming and playing on the beach. It was at that time I saw my first real breasts. My Aunt used to sunbathe topless, which was quite radical at the time and it was only talked about as happening in the South of France with the rich and famous. Her breasts were beautiful, firm, no sag and as good as I had seen in dirty magazines. As I was much older than my cousins, we were sometimes allowed down to the beach alone, as long as they did, as I told them. On one occasion I told them to take a longer path back to the Farmhouse whilst I took the more direct route, I said it was a race and I would give them 10 minutes start. In truth I ran as fast as I could and reached the garden in no time at all. I sneaked into the garden through the hedges and found my goal. Aunt Jill sunbathing completely naked in a secluded sunny part of the garden. I had suspected she did, as when wearing skimpy shorts her tanned legs seemed to continue right up. I had often manoeuvred myself in positions to look up the leg of her shorts. Now I knew for sure. Her body was superb, no fat and a tuft of pubic hair just above her vagina. I crouched behind a hedge peering through and shaking with excitement. Suddenly she sat up and called me, ‘Paul. Where are the children?’, she made no attempt to cover herself and in fact parted her knees so I could see her pussy clearly. I got up and walked around the bushes. I told her that I had sent them on the longer path home, it was a race. She told me that was mean, she was staring at my shorts, I was very conscious of my erection. She called me to come closer and I stood awkwardly before her. ‘Would you like to touch them?’ she asked, ‘I notice you looking at my tits whenever you can, go on have a squeeze, they do not bite’. I cupped one breast in my right hand and gently squeezed, the nipple was in my palm and hardening as I massaged this beautiful boob. She lifted the other breast up and tweaked the nipple with her fingers and suggested I suck it. I lowered my head and took the nipple with my lips. I was shaking all over and felt close to coming. Suddenly we heard laughing from just beyond the garden. She rose from the lounger, wrapped herself in a thin gown and disappeared towards the house.