I didn't see much more of Stella that day; she was out doing shopping and other errands, and I was trying to knuckle down to my studies. I barely noticed the day pass, so engrossed was I in my books. I forgot to have lunch, even, and was surprised to see that it was nearly 6pm when I looked up at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the living room. Outside, behind the glass windows, shadows of trees were dappling the green of the lawn. I went into the kitchen to put the kettle on for a cup of tea. And I remembered Ana. Lovely Ana. My beautiful, blonde, adorable girlfriend. I wondered what she was up to over in Norway, whether she was studying too, or whether she was out partying. With friends, maybe? Male friends? I felt a pang of jealousy. Also guilt. I had only been away for a few weeks and already... I had a flashback of this morning: Stella lying back on the kitchen table, my tongue deep in her cunt, her lost in orgasm. Cumming in my face. The wet flesh against my mouth. The sounds she made, as if she was losing control. Almost screaming with pleasure, her knees clamped around my head. 

I realised I hadn't spoken to Ana for a couple of days, and picked up my mobile to call her. As the phone rang I picked up my mug of tea and went back into the living room, settling down in the big sofa.

"James, it's so good to hear from you," she said, excited. "It's been too long. Where have you been? What have you been up to?"

I started to tell her about my Ph.D., how it was going okay, but it was difficult. She seemed a very long way away, and I couldn't tell if she was interested in my discourse about complex physics equations and so on. I wondered if I was boring her a little.

"No sweetie, not at all, it all sounds, um, really interesting," she insisted, "I just feel like you're so, I dunno, so far away at the moment. When are you coming back?"

The door opened, quietly. Auntie Stella walked in. I looked up, startled by her sudden presence. And by what she was wearing. She had put on a set of matching underwear, black lacy bra, black lacy knickers, with matching suspenders and stockings. She looked incredible. Stella had applied fresh make-up, and her face looked radiant and glowing. She stood in the door, watching me, saying nothing. I knew that she had come for me. To take me. Again.

"So, Ana," I continued. "Tell me about Norway. What have you been up to? Any good parties? Been out much?"

She started to tell me all about her summer holiday, in her lovely, soft, Scandinavian accent. I thought - as I had so many times before - how good her English was, for a second language, she was so very fluent.

By now Stella had crossed the room and was sitting