“You’re telling me that you dress up in ladies underwear and play with your wee wee? At five to one a convertible jaguar pulled onto the drive and a young man, very slim with blonde hair, stepped out onto the gravel path. In the nearest big town there was a sex-shop, you know, the old style Private Shop with blacked out windows and dodgy looking blokes walking out with bulges under their coats. My aunt Margaret’s undies suffered the same fate, her extra large bosoms on a petite 5ft figure needed quite a bit of support, and her elasticated all-in-one bodysuits got a hammering from my cock when I stayed over for parties or family gatherings. “Auntie Joan, I can see your wee wee!”
My skirt had split from the hem to the waistband and my own stiff cock was poking up between my legs. So, who was Geraldine Falkner and why was I in her will?
