When I was a boy, around the age of 11 or so, I used to visit my maiden great-aunt Gladys, who lived nearby. She would have been about 60 years old at the time.
I enjoyed my visits for two reason. First, aunt Gladys would feed me on the most wonderful home-made fruit cake. Second, I would get fantastic views up her dress as she relaxed in her armchair. Of course, at that age I had no practical sexual experience to speak of - I’d only recently discovered the pleasures of wanking – but, like all boys, I always enjoyed a surreptitious glimpse of knickers or stockings. Aunt Gladys wore floral print dresses that buttoned all the way up the front. The neckline was low enough just to show the start of the cleavage in her very ample bosom, and the hem came just below her knees. Underneath, she wore a full slip with broad lacy edging, a bra, stockings and old-fashioned pink bloomers that covered half her thighs. This much was easy to find out but what intrigued me was how her stocking were held up. I couldn’t see any suspenders because of her bloomers. Then, one day, I sneaked a peek through the keyhole when she went to the bathroom and my question was answered. She wore a girdle with six stout suspenders holding up her stockings. Knowing all this, aunt Gladys was frequently the object of my fantasy while I wanked...

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