She still had some of the woman-water on her hands. Norma Jean got a whiff of Lydia’s scent. Its muskiness warmed the inner woman of Norma Jean. It ...as not that Norma Jean was a lesbian. It was that she had not had sex in, well too long. She no longer had affairs with co-workers. That changed when she started caring for her old lover. The head trauma reduced lovemaking to near zero. She and the cook Aaron, teased and joked, but never took advantage of each other. He would disappear for weeks. I was a little disappointed.“Stand near that door”, she pointed towards the door of the hut, “See if anyone is coming.”I was a little disappointed but I knew my Aunt Roshni, this sure wasn’t the end of what had started today. I stood up and went towards the door, the erection clearly visible, but I made no attempts to hide it. I wanted her to see what she had caused me. I went outside, around the hut, to see if anyone was in the fields. There was no one. Then as I entered the hut, my Aunt. Kissing passionately. Hands exploring my body. Your fingers start pleasuring me. Running over my clit, entering me. Exciting me. Making me moan and sigh, and yet keeping me only on the edge, not putting me over. The water shuts off. We don’t even stop touching each other or looking at each other. Naked and wet, I kneel before you. Softly, I part my lips, and take you into my mouth. My tongue works up and down you while I suck. Hints of your taste make my whole mouth electric. Deeper I go. In. "Get over there and do the dishes!"My grandmother calmed her down, and I did the dishes. This was not a fondmemory for me. My grandfather probably filed that one away as a very fondmemory.My mother started to speak up as I bring the pistachios to the table andseveral small bowls for the shells."I know, mother, I'll get the napkins." I cut her off before she canbelittle me.I did not know until I was much older that you could buy pistachioswithout the red die. My mother only bought pistachios.