Went to a funeral yesterday. It was a legitimate invite, I didnât just wake up and think âyou know what, I fancy a funeral todayâ and go looking for the one with the best buffet or anything. It was my auntieâs do, she was a decent old girl, you know the sort of auntie who always send you a fiver on your birthday and always has a jar full of sweets for you? Anyhow, the service went well, the Minister knew his stuff, standing room only in the Baptist chapel (she âfoundâ God about 15 years ago) and lots of people there all agreeing on how fab Auntie was (quite rightly too, IMO). Anyway, I was distracted by an absolutely stunning example of MILF who was there, seated two chairs down from me. Maybe itâs my advancing years, but I see a fit 20-something lass and think thatâs hot. I see a decent MILF and think I could do that, if you see the difference? Itâs like Iâve accepted that the younger ones are now out of my league but the MILFs are all fair game? Anyhow, I digress. She was well tanned (not David Dickinson orange), tidy figure with a very impressive chest which was quite visible through her white top, nice firm arrse in black trousers, well tailored as well, no Primark tat here. I could barely concentrate on the eulogy. Things improved after the service, we got chatting outside and she asked for a light (which I provided) and commented on how she likes the taste of cigarettes lit by a Zippo. Then she asks if I need a lift to the crem, I have to say no as Iâm with family. So at the crem Iâm keeping half an eye out for her when a silver Porsche Boxster with a pers plate screams up and parks in the disabled slot. Out jumps MILFy, plainly not disabled, and walks over to where Iâm standing. I jokingly comment on her choice of parking space and she replies it was the only one she could find and besides who put me in charge of parking? Decent motor and not going to take any sh1t, sheâs just getting better in my book. We caught each others eye a number of times during the cremation, and then again at the bun fight afterwards, where we were able to chat a bit more, in a polite, post-funeral kind of way you understand. We managed to avoid actually overtly flirting with each other but there was enough lingering eye contact to prompt one of my surviving aunties to elbow me and whisper âstop itâ. We didnât actually swap numbers, but the same aunt who nudged me let slip that her mate Nicky (the Porsche-driving MILF) had asked her for mine. Havenât heard from her yet, mind. Is it wrong of me to use the funeral of a loved and respected member of the family as an opportunity to eye up and possible pull the mourning talent? And what is it about fit chicks in black clothes anyway? There were loads there that would pass muster. Have any other readers had a moment of sexual fanatsy when perhaps they shouldn't have?