CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Mother and Father left after we had our lunch giving
me loads of advice to stay safe. Mother said that she would call around nine
when they got home and asked me to stay alert of the phone or better be in Aunt
Hillary’s living around that time. I said I would.
By about Eight O’clock mom called me to say that they
got back home safely. They had taken
Hoppers for dinner from one of the famous “Jinadasa”
way-side restaurant in Ambepussa where we stop for tea whenever we travel along
the Kandy-Colombo main road. She
hung-up, advising me to check whether all doors are locked before I go to
sleep.
I ate the sandwich toasts mother had prepared for me
before she left while watching TV news. It was the last stages of the Gulf war
against Iraq and the news bulletin was interesting to watch. After the news was
over I felt a bit lonely to be in the house without Aunt Hillary. If she was
around I would have been rubbing her feet by that time.
So I just wondered in Aunt Hillary’s house. Being
there for almost a year, I had never gone pass the dining area of the house
before; to where Harry’s room was. Harry’s room was locked but Aunt Hillary’s
room was not. I decided to do a bit of exploration in her room, keeping in mind
the precautions she took before leaving Harry in the house alone.
Aunt Hillary’s wardrobe was locked; bur the chest of
drawers next to it was not locked. The top drawer was full of video cassettes.
Some were original copies of movies while some seemed to be recorded ones. I
switched on the VCR player and tried playing some but most were not functioning
due to tapes being deteriorated. I thought I should bring the tape cleaner and
head-cleaner I had at home and try to restore some of the tapes later.
One drawer was full of old photo albums. There were
many Black & White to Color photos taken from Aunt Hillary’s childhood days
in there. I took them onto the bed and went through one by one. Behind the
albums was a small brown cardboard box. I took it out and inspected its
contents. There was a book, a few letters and an A4 size envelope containing
some Black & White photos in it. As soon as I saw a glimpse of those photos
inside the envelope I knew I had hit gold here.
The cover contained a few original prints of nude
and seminude photos. They were of good quality artistic photos and the faces of
the models were not made recognizable through their poses; their hair, hands
and other objects as well as clever lighting. There were photos of three models
under two themes; solos and mother & child. The back of the photos were
labeled by hand “Solo-Hill”, “M & C-Hill & Harry”, “Solo-Dem”, “M &
C-Dem & Diane”, “Solo-Me” and “M & C-Me & Damian”. All photos were
signed at the bottom as “Piyumi Hurulle”.
Examining the photos again I recognized that the
models in the photos were none other than Aunt Hillary and her sister Demi,
along with their kids Harry and Diane. The photos were dated May 1971, which
means Harry and Diane would have been about two and four years old
respectively.
I had heard the name Piyumi Hurulle before as a controversial local model & actress during
the late sixties and early seventies. Aunt Hillary had mentioned to me once
that she was one of Aunt Demi’s close friends. I knew about Piyumi Hurulle from my school days and
had seen a few Black & White Adult rated films she feature in rather hot
séances. I also had a few old magazines with her seductive posing’s that I
found in my mother’s book shelf. I’ve also heard that she was forced to migrate
abroad after she posed for a rather erotic photo-shoot with her own teenage
son. I examined the photos in the cover to see whether they could be those
controversial photos but her son seemed to be only about eight to ten years
when those particular photos were taken and besides, they didn’t look that
‘erotic’ poses anyway.
The book that was in the box was an Art Photography
book named “Women & Motherhood”
published under the name ‘Elizabeth
Hurulle’ in 1975, by a not so famous publisher in Chicago. It included a few photos that were in the
envelope and many more. Along with the book were two Air-mail letters addressed
to Aunt Hillary. The first was dated May 1975 signed as ‘Elizabeth H (Piyumi)’, and the second was dated March 1982 and
signed as ‘Elizabeth (Mrs. E. Grant)’.
Though I knew it was not ethical to read other’s letters, I was so curious that
I decided to read the two letters right away.
The first letter gave an account of Piyumi’s early
period of life in the States, up to publishing her photography work as a book.
She had written the letter to thank Aunt Hillary for agreeing to pose for the
photos for free when she was at a very difficult time. It seemed that Piyumi was very close to Aunt
Demi than Aunt Hillary because she had stated in the letter that; ‘Demi knows
my whole story and she might have told you a fair bit of it, yet let me just
brief you about a little of my miserable life back in Sri Lanka, just so that
you’ll realize how much the favors you did to me meant to me and my son’. She
had gone in describing her life a bit.
As I understood of it, Piyumi had been the only daughter
of her parents. Her mother had been the only daughter of a gem merchant and had
a brother very younger to her. Her mother had eloped when she was very young to
later realize her husband was a lousy drunk. Piyumi’s grand-father had fallen ill once his
daughter eloped and refused to even see her again. Piyumi’s grand-mother had
secretly supported her daughter, especially after Piyumi was born. Yet her
parents had been in debt and in all sorts of problems. When Piyumi was ten
years old, her parents had dropped her at her grand-mothers house and gone and
never returned. Later it had been discovered that they had committed suicide. Her
grand-father also had died soon, suffering from a stroke due to the shock of
this tragedy.
Piyumi’s Uncle Hasith Grant had taken over his
father’s business but had not been very successful with it. Hasith had only
been twenty years old, just ten years elder to Piyumi. As time went on Piyumi
and Hasith had fallen in love with each other. Piyumi’s grandmother had been furious
and asked them to stop the affair at once. She had further gone on to
forcefully getting Haisth to marry to a girl who lived in South Africa. Hasith’s
bride Anna had been the daughter of another Gem merchant who was based in South
Africa. Anna had left back to South Africa
soon after the wedding, which had allowed the affair between Hasith and Piyumi
to continue.
Piyumi had got pregnant with Damian when she was
just fifteen years. Piyumi’s grand-mother had been so upset that she had
decided to sell their family business and send Hasith to South Africa for good.
Being a very religious lady, Piyumi’s grandmother had decided not to abort the
baby and Piyumi too had liked to keep the baby. They had managed with the baby
out of their deposits for a couple of years but soon realized that they were
running out of money.
It is then that Piyumi’s grandmother had turned to
one of her old friends, a well-known photographer named Lion Woods. He had
hired Piyumi as one of his assistance, the only girl said to have worked for
him as he was gay. While teaching everything about photography Lion had asked
Piyumi whether she would like to model for him. She had first done it secretly because
her grand-mother would have objected to it if she had known. But once her
grandmother passed-away, she had gone into modeling full-time and also soon entered
the cinema industry through Lion’s contacts.
Piyumi, while working as a model and actress had
established her own photography studio with a dark room and had been with the
ambition of publishing her own collection of art-photography. Yet she hadn’t
had enough money to hire professional models as a single mother. It had been
then that she had turned to Aunt Demi; and both Aunt Demi and Aunt Hillary had
volunteered to help her out posing for her as models.
Once the photographs were coming up and she was
forming the theme of her collection she had realized that if she as an
independent lady photographer was to go through the project, she had to migrate
to a country with an audience thinking more liberally; a developed society
having the taste of perceiving her art. So she had planned to move into the States.
She had shipped all her equipment to a friend there first, before taking and
developing those controversial photos with her teenage son.
She had very well known that she couldn’t stay in
the country after those photos were published locally. Though there were no social
media or digital communications as advanced as today, even in those early
seventies hot gossip seems to have found wings to spread fast. So she had
arranged everything including the air tickets before she closed the deal on
those photos. As soon as she collected
the money she and her son had been on a flight to the USA. She had being in the
states when the photos were printed and published in a local newspaper tabloid for
the first time. Once in the US the first thing she had done is to change her identity.
It is then she had changed her name to ‘Elizabeth’. She had forged her son’s
papers to say that Damian’s mother is Anna; Damian’s birth farther Hasith’s
real wife. Thereafter, she had introduced Damian as her cousin brother to
everyone. She had worked as a free-lance photographer and supported Damian to
go to college. Damian had just turned
fourteen and Piyumi had been twenty nine when they started their new life in
the states.
Soon she had been hired by many small businesses in
the prone publication industry. She had become popular as she was good at what
she did and the models preferred her very much more than male photographers.
Getting to know such models had helped her complete her private project, as
they had been willing to model at her private studio for nominal payments
whenever they were free. She also had found a publisher through her contacts
and finally published her Art Photography book: ‘Women & Motherhood’. There
were two photos of Aunt Hillary in it; one a solo and another carrying Harry.
Both were nudes but Aunt Hillary’s identity was well protected. There were
three similar photos of Aunt Demi & Diane. Also were Piyumi and her son’s
photos. I was able to figure them out only because I had seen the labeled photos
which were in the envelope with the book.
Much interesting was the second letter she had sent
dated March 1982. There she had apologized for not leaving a return address in
her letters and explained that it is because she wants to have no links from
her past back there in the States. Secondly, she had begged to try and not
think of her bad: as She and Damian had got married in 1978! I myself got
shocked reading it for the first time. She had gone on to explain that her son
had been turning out to be just like his farther, Piyumi’s uncle Hasith; ‘just
like my first love when I saw him for the first time’. But she had sworn that
she kept her feelings to herself until Damian himself came to her and proposed.
So the feeling was mutual. She had written that Damian came and said to her;
“you’re the woman I dream always. I don’t think I could find a better partner
than you. It’s true that you’re my biological mother but only the two of us
know that. Besides, everyone thinks we are cousins and it is how I actually
feel about you. Not that I don’t respect you for the things you’ve done for me
as a mother. But please, consider marring me and making my life even happier”. After
a long thought, she had accepted his proposal; and Piyumi alas ‘Elizabeth’ who
was thirty three years old had married her own son Damien who was eighteen.
They had been happily married for four years at the time the second letter had
been written and was having a two year old daughter. She had asked Aunt Hillary
to try an understand her if she could and accept her as she is if someday they
happen to meet somewhere by chance.
I felt touched by Piyumi’s story as well as a bit
turned on. I though it was even hotter than Xaviera
Hollender’s ‘Happy Hooker’. It was a more touchy and sensitive story for
sure. I placed the box and the albums as they were in the drawer. Just as I was
to knock-off the lights of the room I saw Aunt Hillary’s Black Marabou mules
she wore when she visited my room placed on the shoe-rack near the door. I
picked them and placed two soft kisses on them before leaving. I decided I
wouldn’t need them on that night as I had a Red lace panty to sniff. Besides, just
thinking about Piyumi’s story itself was turning me on. I was only sorry that I
wouldn’t be able to ask more details about Piyumi from Aunty when she returns.
Aunt Hillary’s two panties and high-heel sandals on
the shoe rack kept me occupied during the next two nights I spend alone at Aunt
Hillary’s house. I was very careful not to mess-up Aunt Hillary’s bed spreads,
so I always brought her sandals to my room to be sniffed while masturbating.
And I was also very careful to keep every thin back the same way I found them. Aunt
Hillary called me on Tuesday and confirmed her return would be on the Wednesday
afternoon flight. So I went to the airport to pick her up. I was fairly
familiar with the terminals of the airport as I had come with my parents to
pick my sister once and also had come with Aunt Hillary a couple of times to
pick some of her friends. I sat on a bench of the arrival terminal at about Seven
o’clock. It was announced that Aunt Hillary’s flight had arrived and passengers
would be boarding shortly. The airport security was strict because of the Gulf
war. After about an hour I spotted Aunt
Hillary coming out of the customs gate pushing her baggage trolley. I couldn’t
recognize her for a second. She was glowing and looking younger under the
terminal lights. She was wearing a sleeve-less Gold mini dress with a pair of
Gold strapped high-heel sandals. Her hair was simply let loose. She looked absolutely
gorgeous, just like a super model walking the catwalk.
“Hi Handsome! Did you have to wait long for me?” she
asked warmly hugging me. I gave a soft kiss on to her earlobe as I hugged her
back. She brushed her lips along my cheeks as we parted. She gave me a wink and
slowly looked around to see whether anyone was watching.
“Hi Gorgeous! You look stunning Aunty. Well? Waiting
at the airport for an hour was nothing compared to the five nights I had to be
without you” I said admiring her beauty.
“You like my dress? It was a present from Harry. He
insisted me in wearing on the night I came back from Australia. But
unfortunately you couldn’t see me on that night. Of cause I told harry that
this sort of dress is inappropriate to be worn in an airplane. But he never
listened. He too sometimes becomes very stubborn like you, making me do things that
I shouldn’t be doing. Anyway I decided to wear it again today. I was sure if
Harry liked it then you too would like it” she said, nudging me with her elbow
not looking at me but smiling away as we walked arm-in-arm towards the exit.
The normalcy around Aunt Hillary’s house, especially
between us altered a bit after her return. Her household dress code of changed
back to her ‘normal’; which had been at the time Uncle Bill was living. That
basically was a cotton shirt with no bottom except a panty. Sometimes when she
intended to have a dip in the pool on warm afternoons she spent the entire
morning in the two-piece bikini. Obviously she had been doing some shopping in
Singapore. She had left a house-coat in the coat-hanger in the living room, so
that she could wrap it around herself when she needed to answer the door for
unexpected guests such as the postman or delivery boys. I had sometimes seen her in that housecoat
when I had come to answer the phone or had tapped on her door for any other
reason before we started our affair. But I never imagined that she was
virtually naked underneath that housecoat at such times. Since I became no
stranger to her, she didn’t bother to wear the housecoat anymore as when only when
I was around. Apart from being less conscious about covering our nakedness and
talking more freely about subjects usually considered taboo, I was yet not permitted
to touch the rest of her body except of her feet, unless on prior-approved
‘dates’ that Aunt Hillary okayed me to. This was except for the casual hugs and
the friendly kisses during routine Greetings. I was allowed to continue giving
her a daily foot-rub and end it up with a ‘Good-night’ kiss on her foot soles.
She always returned her good-night kiss on my cheek or forehead.
After that two initial ‘Sex-dates’ our sex-education
sessions too fell into a routine. We only dated each-other once in every two or
three weeks. Often on such occasions I caressed Aunt Hillary’s naked body and
kissed and sucked her feet until she climaxed. Then she gave me a foot-job or
hand-job and finished off the session. We usually used Aunt Hillary’s bed room
for our sex-sessions though occasionally did it even in the living room. We
were extra careful so that no one would get even the slightest suspicion about
us, especially my parents and our friends of the FKC society. Aunt Hillary was
committed to her charity work as before and I was excelling in my studied even
better than before.
On one warm Saturday afternoon towards the end of
April in 1991, we were lying on Aunt Hillary’s bed exhausted. It was the first
weekend after I had returned from the two weeks ‘Sinhala-Tamil New Year’
vacation and we had a bit of catching-up to do. So as both of were free on that
Saturday, Aunt Hillary suggested we meet in the afternoon during the day time
for the first time since we started our sex-dates. First we met by the pool in
the courtyard and climaxed ones each. Then we came to the room and continued.
Aunt Hillary climaxed twice before I could shoot my load for the second time
during that day. It was very tiring and I was fully exhausted. We both were on
the bed; Aunt Hillary was cuddled to me and playing with mu chest hair.
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