Donna's Holiday

It was not long after the wedding that my aunt, Lisa, asked Donna and me to join her in her holiday cottage. When my maternal Grandmother died she left her two daughters some money. Lisa used hers to buy a small, pretty cottage on the River Dart in Devonshire and I had, as a young girl, spent many of my holidays there with her. The idea of taking Donna to see it was hugely exciting. It is a beautiful place, nestling in a small village and with lovely views over the river and the rolling fields and woods beyond.

Donna was unusually secretive the day before we left and she had a rucksack with her that I was forbidden to look in. I confess I feared another ‘egg’ surprise like that which she had sprung on me at the wedding. Lisa said that she’d be there for some of the time but that she’d be going to a book fair in Cornwall and would stay there at least one night. She was there to greet us. I drove down from Bath and stopped to buy some flowers for her. We arrived around lunchtime on the Saturday and I parked behind Lisa’s small Fiat (which she called Mussolini) and as Donna and I unpacked our bags Lisa came out of her front door. We all embraced and she led us into the cottage where the smell of newly cooked bread and coffee greeted us. The kitchen table was burdened with cheese and cold meats and she had soup for us as well. It had been agreed that I’d cook most of the evening meals since Lisa knew how much I enjoyed that. I’d brought a casserole (pork with cream, shallots and cider with a few herbs) I’d prepared for that evening and would shop for the rest.
As we ate, Lisa said she’d put us in the back bedroom and, hesitantly, I asked if she was comfortable with that. She laughed. ‘She’s such an idiot,’ she said to Donna. ‘People think anyone who works in a library is detached from real life but I have been walking the halls of academe since I was 18 and let me tell you, all of life is there. For example, there was a professor called Max. When you entered his study you’d see a man of about fifty with a small beard and always wearing a jacket and tie as he sat behind his desk. If he stood up, you’d notice he was wearing a skirt and two inch heels. His boyfriend was a retired lascar seaman called Hamid who had a large gold hoop in one ear, gold teeth and hands like hams. Max used to bring him to college meetings!’ Donna was giggling like an idiot but I was too. ‘Then we had the lesbian trio. One worked in the bursar’s office, one in the gymnasium and the third was a junior lecturer. They shared a flat off campus but had to leave University after a little trouble which involved the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.’ Hilarity now reigned. She went on to reveal that a certain lecturer used to hold his tutorials while he lay flat out on his table and would attempt to get his head off the end of the table and into any unwary girl’s lap. ‘So, the notion of two healthy young women sharing a bed in my house does not, my dear, alarm me at all.

Donna was enchanted by the cottage and the village and, later that afternoon as we strolled along the gravelly beach beside the river, she took me in her arms and kissed me rather passionately. This disturbed a couple of walkers who had come up behind us without our noticing and Donna said, rather louder than I would have wanted, ‘Well, at least we weren’t shagging.’

I served dinner that night as Lisa and Donna chatted. It was then that Donna fetched the bag which she had so secretively packed. She handed Lisa a nicely wrapped parcel which when opened revealed a T shirt emblazoned with the words ‘Top Librarian’ on the front and ‘Top Aunt’ on the back. To my astonishment, Lisa was delighted. My parcel had another T shirt in it that said ‘College’ on the front and ‘Matron of Honour’ on the back. Donna’s own said ‘I Love Librarians’ on the front and ‘Cuddle College’ on the back. After a lovely lazy evening we retired to bed and made love slowly and beautifully. I confess Donna had to clamp her hand over my mouth at one point out of respect for our hostess. Normally she’d have enjoyed my screams of joy.

When I came down for breakfast next morning I was further surprised to see Lisa was wearing her T shirt. ‘I love it and I love her,’ she told me and I hugged her. ‘What could be better to wear to a book fair?’ No arguing with that. Donna appeared a while later wearing her red silk pyjama jacket and my skirt. ‘I decided to be girly,’ was all she said, rather enigmatically. Lisa left for Cornwall after breakfast. When she’d gone, Donna dragged me back upstairs and this time there was nothing muffled. We spent the entire day in bed and by evening time my knees were complete strangers and had to be reintroduced to each other.

Lisa was away for two nights. She ‘phoned to say she would not be back because she’d met some friends but I am sure she was giving us some time alone in the cottage. It was not wasted. We spent a lot of time going through Lisa’s eclectic book collection and reading in quiet companionship. The second evening we had eaten (steamed sea bass with parsley and lemon sauce, new potatoes and steamed beans) and we sat with the wood burner warming the room. We were both wearing dressing gowns, Donna’s was long, red silk and with a dramatic embroidery of a tree on the back, mine was also silk and black – it was actually Donna’s but I like wearing her things. I was reading a beautifully illustrated copy of Treasure Island, a book Lisa had read to me when I was a girl. I giggled to myself as I recalled her doing the accents for me and reading the exciting bits in a very melodramatic way. Donna, who was beside me on the couch, took the book from my hands and opened my dressing gown. She kissed me and her hands roamed freely over me. I went to touch her but she pushed my hands away. She slithered down to her knees and with her head between my thighs she brought me slowly to a lovely orgasm. She could not prevent my hands from gently stroking her lovely, glossy hair as I arched my back and soared into heaven. I joined her on the floor and we spent a good while kissing and fondling before she too reached her climax with our legs entwined and mouths locked together. ‘A trib-ute to your cookery, College,’ she said, smiling.

Donna was reading a book about Holland and suddenly she looked up at me and said enigmatically, ‘Bloody hell, I could get a medal!’ I expressed surprise. ‘There is an old story in here about a young lad who saved his village. He noticed a hole in the sea defence wall and despite the bitterly cold water and filthy weather kept it there until help came. If he hadn’t the wall would have come down and the village would have been flooded. He was a local hero.’

‘I still do not understand why you’d get a medal.’

‘It’s unlike you to be slow on the uptake, College.’ She slipped her hand slowly up under my skirt and, since she had not allowed me to wear knickers all that day was able quietly to invade me in a rather lovely way. ‘I often have my finger in a dyke,’ she said, smiling and we both giggled as, contrary to the story, she started a small flood.

Lisa returned and we enjoyed a wonderful few days with her. For the first time in ages I felt like I had family again.