Aunt Jean's Illicit romance (12 chapters)

Chapter 1

Mortified. If Ron had thought of the word he might have used it to describe how he felt at the moment -- so embarrassed and so angry at himself that he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. He had been so freakin' stupid!

She said she was going to the grocery store!

He usually locked his door when he did it, but he had been in such a freakin' rush to get to his room to gawk at Mrs. Gregerson sunning at her pool, her freakin' bikini top undone, her half way decent ass barely covered. He ran up the stairs, praying, hoping that he'd get to his bedroom window and not miss it, if and when she propped herself up with her elbows to reach for her ice tea or whatever the hell she drank. Last week when she did that she had twisted her torso and he had seen her naked tits for at least five seconds.

Even without the bare tit or tits, he'd still have a good time beating off, watching her, thinking about how good it would be to fuck her, then shoot his jiz all over her face, her tits, her ass. He'd look at her nearly naked body and think about ramming his cock into her, just like in the porn vids his friend Josh would let him rent when the manager wasn't in the store. Ron had made copies of ten of them with his two VCRs.

Watching Mrs. Gregerson sunning was almost better than beating off to the porn vids, actually each made the other better. Without the porn vids he would never have thought of ramming his cock into her hot asshole, or rough fucking her mouth, or having his cock between her big tits, her hands holding those big fleshy orbs together making a tit-cunt for his sliding prick then shooting his wad all over them. And when he watched the porn vids on the days Mrs. G sunned, he'd imagine the chicks in them to be Mrs. Gregerson, begging for it in her ass, or it would be her screaming, "Harder! Harder! Ron! Fuck me harder!"

He would watch her from his bedroom window, usually naked himself, his palm all slicked up with hand lotion, yanking his crank seeing her nearly naked on that cushioned redwood chaise, but also seeing her in his mind, fucking her, fucking her so good, so hard, her mouth, her cunt, her asshole, and the combo of that would make him cum so freakin' hard he'd shoot jiz onto the window sometimes, and it felt so damn good while his prick pumped, but then fifteen minutes later he'd feel so damn ashamed, not only for being a perv, but for his nearly complete failure with girls.

He wasn't a virgin, he had hooked up twice, fucked both chicks, not total dogs, but he wouldn't have been interested in either of them if he had been sober. He had a few "Clinton" hookups too when he had been d***k but he now no longer counted those as anything. When he liked some hot, pretty chick, he was so freakin' nervous, that whenever he had a chance to talk to the girl his brain would go blank, switch off. Most girls thought he was an asshole, thought he was stuck up, or a hard-ass loner, or god knew what.

There had been two girls during the past couple years he had really liked, wanted to go out with, not only wanted to thoroughly fuck them, but actually wanted to get to know them, and he had blown it with both girls. Each had approached him at parties or at school, smiled at him, tried to get him to talk, and he'd mumble something about how he needed to get another beer, or if it was at school he'd say he had to see the coach or something. Excuses to walk away so they wouldn't see how much he liked them and how damn stupid and nervous he was. His brain just shut down around girls he liked!

She was supposed to be at the grocery store!

He wasn't thirteen anymore! He wasn't sad about his mother dying unless he really thought about her, and he hated to admit it, but he really didn't think about her very often anymore. He was eighteen now! When his father went around the country for three months every summer to supervise road or freakin' bridge construction or whatever that damn company built around the country, he didn't need Aunt Jean to freakin' baby-sit him anymore! He would be in college in a few months! He would have been okay being alone for the summer since he was freakin' fifteen!

And she was so freakin' weird! She had never gone swimming in the freakin' pool, not once, not one freakin' time during any of the fucking summers she had been here. And she always wore those dumb-shit, dorkwad clothes! Who the fuck wore long, blue jean shorts that were hemmed?! And she must have five fucking pairs, and those damn stupid tee shirts that are always too freakin' big on her! The only freakin' parts of her he had seen were her oddball fat calves and piano ankles, her arms basically from her elbows down, and her head!

All that first summer she had stayed, he thought she was real fat under those clothes just like her fat-ass ankles, but then at the end of summer, on a windy day, her stupid baggy tee shirt had been plastered against her side and she wasn't fat at all, which just proved what a freakin' dork she was! She couldn't even buy clothes that fit right! And that fuckin' freak eye of hers she was always hiding with her hand, and those stupid large plastic frame glasses! It was like she was a freakin' cyclops, or... or always taking a freakin' eye test looking at a fuckin' chart on the wall!

His self-loathing skyrocketed with that last thought. He was an asshole. She wasn't a cyclops, she could see out of the always squinting eye. That odd shape to her eyesocket and cheekbone, and that drooping scar around the socket forming a backwards "J" on her face was from a car crash when she was about his age. It hadn't even been her fault. According to Dad, she had almost died, and that freaky eye and freaky part of her face had gone through six operations, plastic surgery and other shit, and it was the best it was ever going to look. He said she had other operations too but he hadn't gone into much detail about those.

Ron knew he definitely was an asshole. He was trying to put her down in his mind and all she had ever been was nice to him. She had never been some dictator during the summers she stayed with him, although she wouldn't let him walk all over her either, but he had never really tried that. She had never attempted to be a replacement mom either. If he thought about it, she had been nice, had even tried to be his friend, and he had never responded in kind. He did what she said he had to do, and when he tried to pull something she pointed out that Dad had told her the rules. He had done some shit a few times, coming home d***k, or d***k and stoned, actually more than a few times, but she had only realized he was high three or four times. She had told Dad, but had spoken with him first, saying she wasn't a tattletale, spy, or informant on him, she was just following his dad's instructions, and his dad trusted her to tell him when Ron broke the rules.

Those times had made him mad as hell because he never told on her. He hadn't really noticed when he was thirteen that first summer, actually it wasn't until near the end of the next summer that he figured out Aunt Jean got d***k at least once a week. He could sort of tell from the way she walked, and sometimes she would forget to angle her face away when she spoke to him, and she'd forget to used her hand to hide the scars and disfigurement especially when she watched TV. Once she wasn't even wearing her thick framed glasses when he first walked into the f****y area, but she had quickly put them on. Mostly it was her slurring of words that let him catch on to it.

Those nights would always end the same way. She'd go to the guest room early, saying she was sl**py. She'd take a bath, or shower in the guest bathroom, and then on and off for the next couple hours she'd be in the bedroom, he guessed on the bed, crying on and off, fits of sobbing really. He had noticed other signs too. She always used one of the dark blue glasses they had when she drank alcohol, not the clear glasses. He never mentioned it to Dad. He didn't want to get her in trouble, and she hadn't told on him a few, well, more than a few times, when he had broken some rule -- I won't tell your Dad this time, but you have to promise me you won't do that again. He'd always promise.

She was supposed to be at the freakin' grocery store!

He got off the bed and started pacing. He'd have to leave his room sooner or later. When he realized Aunt Jean was getting d***k and crying, he had felt sorry for her, but even with the pity, he never was very nice to her. He should have been. Maybe it was that she was such a dork, or the way she acted so weird about her eye that first summer she stayed, even though he had seen her at least a couple times every year all his life.

Her eye had creeped him out as a boy when Mom had told him to give Aunt Jean a hello or good-bye hug. That was when he was a little older, but when he was he was really young her weird eye didn't bother him much. She'd always play with him quite a bit when she'd visit for a week or so during summers and a week during Christmastime. Maybe she knew how to relate to k**s better. She taught first grade. That was why she had the summers free to be here. He could recall snippets of those early times, and he couldn't remember her covering her eye up or turning her face away to the side when she talked with him. Ron couldn't even remember noticing the eye when they played and laughed together. Maybe she had been baby-sitting him then too, just for an evening or day when Mom and Dad went out.

He recalled telling her when he must have been about nine that she'd be really pretty if she didn't have the ugly eye. In his boy's way, he had thought it was a compliment. The comment had made her cry. He wasn't sure, but he sort of recalled that after that, she had started angling her face slightly away from him whenever she was around him. Just like she did now. It was after that the hugs started creeping him out.

Yeah, he had been an asshole to her.

But she said she was going grocery shopping!

Yeah, and he told her he was going to get his running shorts and go for a run. He shut his eyes tight. He had been so close to shooting his wad, holding his breath, ready to feel the surge, slowing down the strokes, squeezing his hand tighter around his aching hard, thick prick, his sliding hand was Mrs. Gregerson's torrid asshole, she was begging him to fill her ass with his hot cum. He was a few seconds away from shooting it, his body stiffening, his torso curving forward a little. Then his bedroom door abruptly swung opened.

He wasn't sure if he jumped but he instantly turned towards the sound, his hand still gripping his deep red, throbbing rod. He wasn't certain he had jumped, but he was positive Aunt Jean had. She had let out a brief high pitched yelp too. Her good eye went really wide and her freaky eye strained to open wider too, so much so there had been a sort of stretch crease by her odd, disfigured cheekbone. She had frozen after her little "EEEK!" Her eyes fixed on the hard rod in his hand. It had to look like he was pointing it right at her, which in essence, he had been. Her jaw couldn't have dropped lower.

He had frozen in pose too, still hunched over a little, gripping his throbbing prick at the base, he had stopped breathing. Time seemed to become suspended, or at least super slow motion. Her eyes on his cock, his eyes on the extra distortion behind her thick framed glasses around her freak eye. It seemed they had stared at each other for ten seconds, although it couldn't have been more than a couple, yet he recalled that he had thought at the time, Why aren't either of us moving? A few moments, maybe microseconds, after that thought, Aunt Jean moved first. Her face raised slightly, followed by her good and freaky eye, which met his eyes. He remembered her mouth still open wide like an elongated "0," then the next moment, she dropped the folded tee shirts, underwear, and socks she had in her arms, turned and ran out of the room. He became unfrozen, virtually jumped the ten feet or so to his door and slammed it closed then pushed the button on the knob to lock it.

That was forty minutes ago. Jeezuz. It's only June tenth! I have to face her for two and a half months more! I'm eighteen! She doesn't have to be here!

He and Dad had talked about that. Dad agreed he was old enough to take care of himself, but he also said he thought Ron would end up partying a hell of a lot and that worried him, things getting out of control, someone getting hurt, the liability. He added that since he had suggested Ron take this summer off, not work for the contractor this summer and just enjoy himself before college started, that the old adage about boredom being he devil's playground had some validity to it.

Ron had said he could trust him a dozen times, but Dad said he knew how peer pressure worked, he knew that even if Ron didn't plan a party, maybe some friends would just show up some afternoon, and in a friendly way they'd share a six pack and after Ron drank a beer or two suddenly having just one party wouldn't be that bad because everyone would be careful and adult about it.

Dad then admitted that half of the reason, maybe the larger part of he reason he wanted Aunt Jean to stay the summer again, was for Jean. He said it was good for her to get out of her little house, swim in their pool, relax in a change of scenery. When Ron had told him Aunt Jean never used the pool, Dad hadn't believed him at first then had sort of believed him. Dad said that Jean had some unresolved "issues" since the auto accident. It wasn't just her face that was injured but she had other scars too. That maybe she was shy because of that. He had told Ron that she had really been a very pretty girl, very nice and sweet, popular, and all that in high school, then in her senior year the accident had happened. Ron had been about six at the time.

Ron now blinked with an epiphany. That's why I don't remember her face being fucked up when I was real little. A second realization hit him. When he was really young, she had only been a girl, like twelve or thirteen. That would make her like thirty or thirty-one now. A third realization hit him-- He had never wondered how old she was. She was Dad's little s****r, so maybe he assumed she was in her thirties, because Dad was forty-one, but hadn't Dad been in high school when she was born? No, maybe he was in middle school? How old is she? The way she dressed and the freaky eye, mostly it was the way she dressed, he just thought "dork" when he'd look at her, not any age. Ron's gut instantly tightened at the sound of the three soft taps on his door.

Jean cleared her throat. "Ron? Ron, I... I think we... um... I think we need to have a brief talk. I... I'll be in the kitchen. Come down, okay?"

FUCK-FUCK-FUCK! Ron took a slow breath. "Uh... yeah. I'll meet you in the kitchen, in... in a minute."

"All right."

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! His gut was in a knot. He had been hoping she'd just pretend it hadn't happened. He tried to think of some excuse or explanation but what explanation could there be but the real one? SHIT! He figured he better go down and just get it over with.

He left his room and went to the kitchen. When he entered Aunt Jean was sitting at the table not the island counter, her right elbow on the table top, her forearm vertical, her hand at her face as if resting her head slightly against her palm, or holding the dorkwad thick plastic frames of her glasses, but he knew it was there to cover her freak eye. She was staring down at a glass of water. Her head moved slightly, her good eye looked at his waist then back down at her glass of water. He sat down at the end of the table, she was at the side of the table, her good profile towards him. It was their usual positions on the rare occasions they both sat at the table. He usually ate his meals in his room or in front of the big TV. She usually ate in the kitchen area.

Ron took a quick breath. "I'm... I'm really sorry, Aunt Jean. I..." He didn't know what else to say.

"I... I'm sorry too. I... I should have knocked. I..." She stopped talking and sipped her water. "I thought you were out running and so when I brought the laundry up I didn't think you were home." She took a breath.

Ron needed to ask and spoke fast, "Are you going to mention this to Dad?"

Jean kept staring at her water glass. "No." She took another breath. "I don't think that's... it's not necessary. You... you were just doing what... what a normal boy would do. And... and I know when there are... are attractive women around that..."

OH SHIT! She knows I was checking out Mrs. Gregerson! Ron's gut knotted tighter.

"... that guys... boys, I mean... young men..." She took a sip of water. "That guys will... will have thoughts and.... and will fantasize." Another sip of water. "Girls... girls... I mean, everyone... I mean both sexes... masturbate. It's... it's a psychological and biological function. So... so... I don't... I don't think you should feel embarrassed about... about it. And... I... I can understand why... why you were watching Eileen, but... but..." She took another sip of water. "I'm not sure... that... that you should be looking at her... without.... her... I mean... without her knowledge, it's like you're... I... I mean... I don't think that's a good... habit to..."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her eyes opened. "You're eighteen, Ron, I... I know you think I shouldn't be saying anything to you about this, so... I... I mean, I guess that's right. You're a young man now, and I'm... I'm...."

Jean turned her face away from him. Her hand rose and quickly wiped both her eyes. Her head swiveled forward again and she drank more water. "And... I'm just some... some ug... some... aunt who's a... a grade school teacher, so... so I know I shouldn't be telling you how to live you life or... or what to do."

She cleared her throat and then took yet another sip from her glass. "And... and... I... I really didn't mean to... to just stand there, but... but... I was... so... so shocked... I mean surprised, that I... I froze. I'm sorry about that too. That and not knocking. I'll never again go into your room without knocking first, even... even if I'm sure you're with your friends or out on a date with some girl or something." Jean took one more sip of water. "Is there anything... do you want to say anything?"

"I... I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm... I'm very, very sorry."

Jean pushed her chair back and stood without looking at Ron. "I... I... I'm going to do the grocery shopping now."

"I'm... I think I'm gonna drive over to Josh's and... and I may uh... grab a burger later... with... uh... the guys. So... I'll be home... like late."

"All right." At the doorway to the laundry room she lowered her hand from her face.

*


Ron turned onto his street. It was near midnight. Josh's mom had essentially thrown him out at 10:30 because Josh was working tomorrow morning. Ron had gone to a cafe in town and nursed an iced cappuccino as long as he could, then just walked around the dead shopping area for a while. He finally ran out of options and slowly drove home. As he approached the driveway he noticed a lamp on in the f****y room. That didn't mean Jean was up. She usually left an undercabinet light on in the kitchen and a lamp in the f****y area when he was out and she went up to bed. He saw a subtle flicker, changes of light at the closed d****s. Shit! She was up. She had the big TV on.

At the cafe he had decided to just act as normal as possible around her. He didn't want any more tension or weirdness between them than there had been prior to her barging in on him beating off. He just wanted everything to go back to normal.

He stopped the car in the usual spot he parked on the driveway. The normal thing for him to do, was to go into the f****y room and watch the big TV. There was a music show on cable he watched every Friday night when he didn't have a date or wasn't at some party, which was usually every freakin' Friday night. His last date was three months ago, with a girl he had no interest in at all. He had asked her out, in essence as practice. It had bored the hell out of him, and the girl had known it. She had a awful time too.

When he entered the f****y room he was surprised Aunt Jean was sitting oddly in her usual spot in the upholstered arm chair. Her posture was usually lousy, but he had never seen her slouched so much. His eyes went to the dark blue glass in her hand. "Hi, Aunt Jean." He didn't watch but out the corner of his eye he didn't see her move or her hand rise to hold her dorkwad glasses and profile in the usual attempt to cover most of her freak eye.

"Hi." She took a drink, tilting the glass high. She lowered it. "I s'pose you're gonna... wash that music show."

Ron sat on the couch. She was half wasted. No, probably fully wasted. He had never seen her truly d***k, then again he had never tried to rate her d***keness either. "Don't have to. Watch what you're watching.

"I'm not washin' it... anything."

"Mind if I switch it?"

"No... swish it."

He took the remote from the occasional table by her chair. He sat on the couch and changed the channel. He heard her finish her drink, not the swallowing but the clinking ice in the afterwards shake of the glass.

"You... you wash her a lot, don' chew?"

Ron's gut tightened. He looked at her. Another new oddity. Her right leg was folded up, her little foot in the thick white sock flat on the cushion, her knee was slightly wagging back and forth. "Pardon me?"

Jean stopped her leg not even sure why it had started moving. "Nothin'." She took a deep breath, then stood up. "I'm goin' ta bed." The glass slipped out of her hand, it didn't break just bounced on the carpet, and tossed its five ice cubes out. "Fuck." She knelt down and then went into a crawling position to move around to gather the ice cubes.

Ron moved quickly. He crouched down and reached for one of the cubes. He smelled whiskey. Jean slapped his hand away.

"I'll pick 'em up." She put the last two cubes back in her glass, stood up and went to the kitchen.

Ron was shocked that she had slapped his hand when he had been trying to help. That was another first, as was her very obvious weaving as she walked, it had never been that bad, and he had definitely never her heard her say "damn" let alone "fuck." He knew it had to be related to what happened earlier in the day. She wasn't supposed to be home! He sat on the couch and watched the music show until it ended at 1:00AM, wondering the whole time if things would ever be normal again with Aunt Jean.

He turned off the TV and then switched off the f****y area lamp. He flicked the switch for the little tread lights as he headed upstairs he heard it. Aunt Jean was crying again - intermittent sobbing, taking quick breaths in between. He figured she always tried to stifle the sobbing by taking breaths so it would mostly be silent except for the breaths. Now there was some momentary sobbing, then she moaned like some little girl crying. He frowned. She was supposed to be at the fuckin' grocery store! It was all his fault. He took the last few stairs to the second floor. He saw her door was open a crack. A small lamp must be on. Maybe from the dresser. He listened to her odd sobbing-moaning.

"Hmmmm-huh-huh-uhhhhhh."

He started towards his room down the hall away from hers. More sobbing. He stopped in front of his closed bedroom door. He knew it was his fault this time. She was supposed to be shopping! He opened the door and took one step inside his room and halted again. He muttered, "Fucking shit." He exhaled, then turned around. He should apologize again, maybe ask if she wanted anything, maybe even ask if she needed to talk. He exhaled a whisper, "Fucking shit."

He walked towards her door. It had to be a little lamp on in there. The light wasn't very bright. When he cleaned the room before she arrived this summer, there were those two little lamps on the dresser. He exhaled another whisper, "Fucking damn." At her door he tapped on it with his fingertips. There was that weird sob again. He tapped louder. The last thing he wanted to do was scare or surprise her with a loud knock. He whispered, "Aunt Jean?" He tapped a little harder again with his fingertips, while whispering her name once more. The tapping still wasn't very loud but doing it harder made the door swing open.

He froze. It wasn't Aunt Jean on the bed! Wait. It was Aunt Jean on the bed! He didn't know it but his face was a carbon copy of Jean's this morning in his room. In fact everything was reversed. Aunt Jean was naked on the bed and she was beating off!

From his vantage point he had an angled view of the bed in the large bedroom. She was in a sort of half doggy position, her ass up but her head and shoulders down on the mattress. Her head was turned to the side facing towards him. Her eyes were closed. Her large black framed glasses were off, and her hair had fallen over her freak eye hiding it. It was one reason he had thought it was someone else. Her face looked totally different and every other part of her except for her forearms and ankles didn't look like anything he had imagined if he had ever even tried to imagine her body.

She had a very hot apple ass, in her position her shoulders weren't hunched over so her back had a nice, sleek sloping curve down to her shoulders. He could see the underside of one breast, pressed against the mattress. It wasn't showing much at all, just a small bulging curve, not big by any means, but it was obvious she wasn't totally flat chested which was the impression most of the time, or maybe he had never really looked at her chest, or maybe it was because of her usual hunched posture. Her thighs were larger than her calves but not like the thunder thighs that would sort of go with her calves and fat ankles. Even her calves somehow looked different without her sneakers and socks, not fat, but much slimmer, smooth, toned, maybe it was the socks and fat ankles that just made them look odd before this.

She was panting and moaning, not weird sobbing. His visual angle didn't give him any decent view of her pussy, but her arm was under her and it was obvious her fingers were playing with it, rubbing her clit nearly frantically. She started to tremble more. Her good eye opened and saw him a moment later. The biggest shock to him, even greater than seeing her like this was that she didn't scream. She kept looking at him, staring, almost glaring anger in her good eye. Her hand worked faster, almost viciously. Her eye closed as her breathing got more ragged. He saw her jaw clench and her lips pulled back, not in a smile, more of a grimace. He could hear hissing in-out, in-out, as she drew air in and exhaled it. Her eye opened again and gazed at him with definite anger.

"You... watch... Eileen.... a... a... a.... lot... but... but not... not... not girls... like... like... me... me. No... no one does... would." Jean shut her eyes tight as her body started twitching hard. Uh... uh... uh... UH!" She began shaking harder, then the twitching became jerking. Her face turned into her pillow. She worked her fingers harder. Her other arm was shaking as it reached back. Her fingers slid between her buns into her deep crack, it looked like two fingertips were circling her anus pressing firmly. "Ohhhhh... oh... uh... UH!" Her body started convulsing. "AHH!"

Ron finally came to his senses. He grabbed the doorknob and had enough mind not to slam it shut as he backed quickly into the hall. He hadn't even realized he had stepped inside. He turned and headed to his room at a quick pace. He got to his room and didn't slam that door closed either but quickly pressed the lock button. He sat on edge of the bed in the dark.

What the fuck just happened?! He tried to get his brain working. His hand absentmindedly cupped his balls. It took him a few seconds to realize he had a throbbing hard-on. He yanked his hand away. How could she have a body like that?! And her face! That didn't even look like her! He realized he was breathing fast too, not as fast as her and probably not for the same reasons, maybe similar reasons, at least a little, but the rest of it, was... shock. Jeezuz! I just stood there! She's going to tell Dad this shit! How the fuck could I know she was freakin' playin' with herself?! FUCK! He tried to remember everything. She hadn't told him to leave, to get out, she hadn't screamed when she saw him. She had said something about Eileen, watching Mrs. Gregerson, but not her. Something like that.

THAP! THAP! THAP!

Ron's eyes almost popped out of his head and he jumped up from the bed.

Jean pressed both her palms against the door, not pushing, just pressing. "I don' care! I jus' don' care anymore!" She panted few more breaths. Raised her hand and slapped the door again. THAP! THAP! THAP! "Do ya hear me?! I JUS' DON' CARE ANYMORE!" She turned around and weaved back to her room. She backhanded her bedroom door shoving it. Wham! It slammed shut. She had switched on the bedside table lamp, so now when she turned off the tea lamp on the dresser, she had light to her bed. She got in, pulled the covers up, switched off the lamp, turned onto her side, her hand slid between her thighs, her finger slowly stroked up and down her slippery labia a dozen times before she dozed off.

Ron finally undressed and got into bed at 2AM. He tossed and turned not able to sl**p. At 3AM, he turned onto his stomach, shoved a pillow under his aching hard cock. For five minutes he fucked the pillow. It was Aunt Jean's perfect ass and he pumped a full load into her hot, tight asshole.

*


What Ron had feared would happen the next morning, didn't. He figured there would be another "sit down" in the kitchen, or worse, a long distance call to his dad. Neither happened.

At 9AM he had been awakened from a deep sl**p by Aunt Jean knocking on his door. When he said, "What?" She had just asked him, as she usually did, if he wanted breakfast. He said, "No thanks," and heard her pad down the hall. When he had finally gotten downstairs she had been cleaning the refrigerator, her hair in the usual half-assed pony tail which didn't include the hair that hung down in front of her ears and over her cheeks, her large plastic frame glasses on, wearing her uniform of hemmed, baggy blue jean shorts and bulky tee shirt. It again seemed impossible that the hot babe he saw finger fucking herself last night could possible have been the same girl, well, woman. Actually, she had looked like a girl his age.

He asked if there were any jobs she wanted him to do and she said no, since he had mowed the lawn a few days ago. He said he was going over to Tom's to play some vid games. She said, "Okay. Will you be home for lunch or dinner?" He said he wasn't sure. He said she should just eat without him if he wasn't home when she wanted to eat. It was all normal, in fact, repetitive. It could have been any Saturday last summer.

He left and had to admit he was terribly relieved, then wondered why she didn't seem worried that he'd tell Tom or someone else about what he had seen the night before. Maybe she somehow knew he wouldn't tell anyone. Maybe she thought he wouldn't say anything because she had seen him beating off too, so if he told anyone, she'd tell on him? He also remembered her screaming that she didn't care anymore. He hadn't been and still wasn't sure what that had meant exactly. What didn't she care about?

The rest of the weekend and the next week was normal. Aunt Jean never really looking at him straight on, her hand pretending to hold her profile but really just adding her fingers to the thick frames of her glasses to hide more of her freak eye.

The only thing different was that on the two late mornings when Mrs. Gregerson sunned at her pool and he had started gawking at her, all he could think of was Aunt Jean's body. Plus standing at the window just made him feel guilty. Each time he had only watched for a few minutes and left his prick, which was definitely hard, untouched. Although the week had been "normal" he was glad that there was a party on Friday night. Tom's parents were out of town, there'd be beer, maybe someone would bring Bushmills, maybe some weed. Tom had told him Cindy was coming too.

* * *


Chapter 2

Ron killed the beer and crushed the empty can. His fifth. He was angry and frustrated with himself. Staying at the party would just make it worse. "I think I'm gonna split."

Josh looked at his friend. "Hey, stick around. Jack said he was goin' to get some Bushy, from that guy he knows. It's only midnight or so, Ron."

Tom chuckled. "I tole you, man, you shouldda made your move on Cindy earlier."

He had been drinking his second beer, and thinking his third beer would relax him enough to go and talk to her. He had wanted to for a couple months. She had broken up with her boyfriend in the spring. Then Tom had asked him to make a snack run, to take Debbie and pick some shit up. So he left the party. Debbie took forever at the freakin' grocery store, trying to get the best bang for the buck. By the time they had returned, the party had gotten very crowded. When he went to get his third beer, he saw Cindy holding Jim LaLonde's hand heading upstairs to the guest room, all smiles and giggles.

He looked at his friend Tom. "Fuck her."

Tom laughed. "No need to, man. Jim's gonna or did." He laughed again.

"Fuck off, Tom."

Ron left the party and drove straight home. He'd watch some porn in his room, anal porn and try to imagine shoving it up Cindy's hot ass. When he pulled into the driveway he noticed the f****y room light wasn't on. When he entered through the garage door he saw the kitchen undercabinet light on. He went and got a soda and noticed the blue glass on the counter by the sink. He picked it up and smelled it. Whiskey. He opened the soda and sat the table. He had a few sips from the can, then decided he wasn't thirsty. He put the open can in the refrigerator, then headed to his room, as usual just switching on the tiny tread lights on the stairs. He noticed there was a dim light in the upstairs hallway. Aunt Jean's door had to be open at least a little. His cock started getting hard.

He walked half way up and listened for her breathing and moaning that he had once thought was crying. He heard something but it wasn't panting. Holy fuck! It was voices. Two. Not loud. The girl's voice didn't really sound like Aunt Jean. Holy fuck! She had a guy in there! He heard crappy elevator music too. It sounded just like... Ron blinked. It sounded like the crappy soundtrack music on one of his pirated porn vids. He took a few more stairs. It wasn't just lamp light in the hallway, there was additional light, a flickering light. She had the TV on, she was watching one of his porn vids. He recognized the girl's line:

"I want it so bad! Give it to me hard! Come on, baby, fuck me... fuck me dirty."


It was an anal vid. It was the one where the girl got assfucked laying on her back on a kitchen table. The guy folded her legs back, and shoved his cock up her ass. He liked that one. He liked seeing the closeups of the girl's face. He walked up to the second floor. Aunt Jean's door was nearly fully open. He had to look. He just had to look. Having five beers helped him give in to his curiosity.

He quietly approached the doorway, stopped short of it, and gazed into her room. Aunt Jean was on the bed, pillows against the headboard, she was sitting slouched, both her legs folded up and back, held in position with her elbows resting on the back of her thighs. Her knees were nearly even with her shoulders. Just like the chick in the porn vid. He saw her cunt. Three of her fingers were rubbing an elliptical circle on and around her slit. Her other hand was lower. A couple fingers circling her asshole. Her hair was a mess, like it had been windblown, wild and sexy, like the night last week. Ron's cock was already throbbing. It had grown to a full erection on the stairs. Without thinking or possibly not able to stop himself, he moved and stood in the doorway.

Jean noticed movement at the door. She looked and saw Ron there. She stared at him for a few seconds then turned her face to the TV. Her voice was half hiss, half growl as she murmured through her clenched teeth. "I don' care. I don' care anymore."

Her hand worked her pussy faster for a dozen circuits, then her middle finger wiggled into her cunt for ten seconds fucking herself, then it slid out and rubbed speedily back and forth over her hardened clit. "Mmh... mmh." Her abdomen clenched and her body jerked. "Oh... mmmh."

Her hand at her ass quickly pulled away. She turned to look at the night table. She grabbed a tube of lubricant, then her other hand left her pussy. She squeezed a big dollop on the fingertips of her left hand. She dropped the open tube to the side. Her right hand went back to her cunt, finger rubbing her clit, her elbow pushed her folded leg farther back. Her left hand returned to her ass. Her left leg folded back even more from pressure of her elbow. Her lubed fingertips rubbed the gel around her hot anus. She stared at the TV for a half minute before her middle finger began pushing into her asshole, not really wiggling, more like undulating. She pushed it half way in. Her eyes closed and her neck arched, the back of her head pressing into a pillow against the headboard. "Mmmm.... mmmm..... mmmm."

Ron's palm was on his crotch stroking the throbbing erection inside his jeans. His body on autopilot, he took a few more steps closer to the bed. Aunt Jean's head came forward. She glanced at him for a couple seconds, then looked at the TV, then her eyes closed. It seemed she was holding her breath.

Jean pushed her middle finger as deep as she could into her ass. "Arrrhh... mmmmh." She waited a moment, then twisted it back and forth for a few seconds then slowly pulled it almost all the way out. She added a second digit and worked both in slowly. "Ooh!" Her body flinched. Then she relaxed and slowly twisted and pushed the two fingers deeper into her rectum.

Ron moved closer. He was massaging his cock through his jeans. What he was watching was a thousand times hotter than any porn vid. It was probably hotter than when he fucked either of those two girls. She wasn't his aunt, except for the freak eye. This couldn't be his dorkball aunt. He saw her give a final push to her two fingers and they disappeared into her ass. He heard a thump and looked up. The back of her head had butted the headboard. He wanted to give long sucking kisses to her ached neck. His hand unbuttoned the front of his jeans, then pulled down the zipper.

"Urrrrrhhh... mmm... mmmh." She started twisting her fingers in her ass. "Oh... mmmh... mmmmmm." The finger at her clit started rubbing faster, firm strokes side to side. "Oh... umm... mmh." Her head flopped forward. She noticed movement out the corner of her eye. She looked left. Ron had his hand in his underwear. She could see the dark red mushroom head above the elastic. She kept her eyes on it as her two fingers in her ass began moving in and back, in and back... her mouth opened, she was taking ragged breaths.

He saw her staring at his crotch. He didn't care anymore either. He stepped over to the foot of the bed blocking the TV. Her eyes followed him. He stared at her asshole and cunt. One hand pushing fingers up her butt, the other hand had a speedy finger on her surprising large clit, unless he really wasn't seeing it right. Her fast finger might be causing some sort of illusion.

He looked a little higher. Her tits weren't bad, nothing to write home about, but her nipples were fantastic, big, pink raspberries, or like those movie theater gumdrops. He thought about sucking them as hard as he could then giving each a few good nipping bites. There were two scars, nearly parallel running diagonally from the side of her breast up across part of the top of her left breast to the center of her chest near her collar bone. They were noticeable but not deep ugly scars, just 1/4" wide, slightly raised, streaks of whiter shiny skin. There were more noticeable ones on her right side ribs, four or five, a couple deep and short, the others longer, four inches long or so. There was another three incher at the spot where her right arm joined her shoulder, and three low on her abdomen to the side, two pretty long and one that was a good 8 inches long and wide. That looked more like a surgical scar though, the same with one on her abdomen.

He looked at her face. Except for the freaky eye, it wasn't Aunt Jean, it was some... some extremely hot mom... no, she looked hell of a lot younger than any of his friends' moms... more like that young couple with the baby down the street, that chick was very hot too, no... no... Jean looked like some hot college chick, yeah... a very hot, slutty college chick. Oh fuck! Oh jeezuz! He felt the urge to shoot his wad. He shut his eyes and just squeezed the head of his dick. He waited a few moments then opened his eyes. Aunt Jean was trembling now. He looked at her ass again, her cunt, her tits, then her face. Probably from a jerk of her head, her hair was covering her freak eye again, and the good one was locked on his cock.

Ron shoved his jeans and underwear down to his thighs then began giving himself slow squeezing strokes. He didn't want to shoot yet. Jean's panting grew faster, louder. He looked at her face again. She licked her lips, then her eyes shut tightly for a moment as she shook then twitched three times. He gazed at her cunt and asshole. Her fingers shoved deep, then slowly twisted side to side. At her cunt three fingers were now swirling on her clit and slit. Her pink labs were glistening wet, as was her relatively small patch of very thick pubic hair. It looked like fur.

Jean's eyes shut tight again. "Mm... mm... mm... uh... OH!" Her head flew back, arching her neck. She felt her body go out of control. "OHHHHH! UH! MMMH!" Her fingers kept twisting in her ass, the ones at her clit were rubbing frantically. It was a blur of motion.

Ron's body went rigid. "ARRH.... FUCK!" His cock surged, the tip began spewing a half dozen streams, arcing up then landing on her bed sheet. The second shot sent the most jiz out, it landed less than a few inches from Aunt Jean's ass. He still gripped his cock and it stayed hard while he watched Aunt Jean peek.

"ARRH... ARRH... AHH!"

Ron gazed at Jean's body convulsed for ten seconds, then her hands slowed, the fingers in her ass pulled out and the ones at her pussy slowed, then only one finger slowly stroked her clit and labia. Her arms shifted and her legs unfolded, she moved on the bed, then rolled onto her tummy. Her body was still trembling as she gasped deep breaths. Her arm move under her. Her head turned to the right, her hair still hiding the disfigured eye. Ron stood there stroking his softening cock just staring at her pouting, perfect, apple ass, and glancing now and then at her finger barely showing between her legs, still playing little slow circles around her pink gem. It did look large. He stayed there for a few more minutes until her hand pulled out from under her. Her body shifted. She pulled up the top sheet and covered herself. She inhaled a deep breath and sighed. It looked like she was going to go to sl**p.

Ron took his hand off his cock pulled up his underwear and jeans. In a near daze, he turned off the TV but forgot the VCR, then went to the dresser and switched off the tea lamp. He closed her bedroom door and walked down to his room. When he turned the light on he saw the bottom drawer of his chest pulled open. Two sweaters half hanging out and three of his copied porn vids were laying on the floor. He didn't give it any thought, undressed, got into bed and was asl**p almost before his head hit the pillow.

* * *


Chapter 3

When he got out of bed the next morning he saw the bottom drawer of his chest was closed. He opened it and the sweaters were back inside and all ten of his pirated porn vids.

As with the previous week there was no change in Aunt Jean. They spoke as much or as little as they always had. And as with the previous week the only changes that he noticed were in him. He hung around the house a little more. Whenever he could without her noticing, he'd steal glances or longer looks, or just plain stare at Jean. He was trying to see the hot chick under the dork clothes and behind the big dumb glass frames. He couldn't even imagine how her usually pony tailed hair could be the wild, disheveled, windblown, totally sexy hair of the girl who finger fucked herself in the guest bedroom.

There was another change in him though. His usual getting hard-ons for 50% of his waking hours, increased to 90%. The thing was, he really didn't want to beat off unless he was watching Jean do it too. By Tuesday though, he didn't think he'd make it though the day. After lunch, Aunt Jean drove off to run some errands. Ron had started up to his room to whack the blueness out of his balls, then stopped. He thought about trying something. It was a shot in the dark. He went the kitchen and pulled out one of the tall blue glasses. He set in the center of the kitchen table. He then got his trail bike from the garage and went for a long ride.

He stopped at the vid store to talk to Josh who was working, and rent a couple new porn vids, but the manager was there, so Ron just browsed the racks, even the older DVDs, trying to use up time before going home for dinner. He pretended to read the blurbs on every box he picked up. In his mind he was seeing Aunt Jean, playing with her big pink clit, or fucking her ass with her fingers, or the vision of him doing those things and more with his cock. When he mounted his bike to ride home and his blue balls pressed against the seat, he thought they were going to explode. When he finally reached home and walked into the kitchen, Aunt Jean was pulling a pan of chicken breasts out of the oven. He looked at the table and frowned. The blue glass was gone.

"You came home just in time, unless you're just stopping in to change clothes or something."

As usual she didn't face him to talk. He looked at her ill fitting bluejean shorts. "No, I'd like to have dinner here, if that's all right."

"Sure. I'll make up a tray for you. Cranberry juice, water, or soda?"

"I'll get it." He looked at her hair. "And uh..." His eyes went back to her ass. "I... uh..."

"Yes?"

"You... uh... eating in the kitchen?"

"Yes, I am."

"I... I'll eat at the table too tonight. If... if that's okay."

"All right. I won't get a tray out." Jean moved to check the potatoes. They were done. "It'll be a few more minutes."

*


He forked a piece of chicken into his mouth. Her good side was towards him as usual. She looked across the table to the empty chair for the most part. "This chicken is really good." It was. She made great meals. He realized he should have told her that a lot more often.

"Thank you." Jean took a quick breath. "This fall you'll been eating in the dorm, won't you?"

"Yeah, Dad thought it was worth it. Room and board."

"When I was in college, it wasn't split up, one price for both."

He kept looking at her good profile and he started to see a hint of the girl on the bed. "How did you like college?" He saw her look down at her salad. It only had a few cut strips of chicken on it. Most of her meals were salads. His brow pinched. She wasn't answering, just lightly poking her leafy greens with her fork.

"It... it was all right I guess."

"Dad said he had a lot of fun, made some good friends, even now stays in touch with a couple guys. I met one of the guys when he was passing through the city on business. Was it fun for you?"

Jean moved two chicken strips to the side of her bowl. "I really enjoyed my classes. I had a good professor in the Ed Department. She really got me interested in teaching at the elementary level."

Ron knew he wasn't the most perceptive guy around, but he realized that answer was a lot of words meaning: No. He wondered if he could just get her to look at him. "Aunt Jean?"

"Uh-huh?" She pushed the tines into a piece of chicken, tomato and spinach. She raised it to her mouth.

"You like salads a lot, don't you?" He watched her chew and there was just the tiniest of smiles on her lips, which was a very rare event. She swallowed and the smile wasn't there.

"Yes, I do. I like to eat light. I eat other things too. Meat, vegetables, the variety. I like fruit a lot. During summer, salads just seem right to me. I guess it's the heat of summer. You eat salad too."

He realize that this was turning into the longest conversation with Aunt Jean since he was a little k**. "Yeah, salads are good." He wanted an answer to a question that popped into his head on the bike ride but didn't know how to do it without her thinking he was talking about her freak eye. "Today riding, I realized that stuff I looked at in the distance was a little fuzzy. I may need glasses. From seeing my friends wearing contacts, that just looks like such a hassle. I hope I'm wrong and don't need glasses. I imagine glasses would be a real hassle too, losing them, that sort of thing."

"You... you just have to be careful."

"I'd hate to have to wear them all time. Do you have to wear yours all the time?" He watched her look at her wide, shallow, salad bowl. She lightly poked at it again.

"No... not all the time."

"Could I try them on?" Ron saw her freeze.

"Um... I... I don't... don't like doing that. I... Someone... someone accidentally broke them once. You should... you should get an eye test, then look at frames the optometrist has on display. Mine wouldn't fit you correctly anyway. I... I don't want the... the temple hinges bent." She stabbed more spinach and tomato. She put it in her mouth and turned her face to the right a little, away from Ron.

So much for that idea. He bet they were just plain glass or plastic lenses, joke glasses. "What grade do you teach? Second grade?"

"First grade."

"I guess you like doing that, huh?" He saw another one of her very rare smiles, just a slight curve on her mouth. He stared at her profile.

"I love teaching. The k**s are always amazing at that age. So... so accepting of... of differences in other k**s, and... and older people. They're open, frank, in your face with a million questions, and when you hear some of them, you can't do anything but grin from ear to ear before answering. To see the expression on their faces when they finally understand something, they just light up, especially reading is... is... um... well, it's just wonderful to see. I love all my k**s, every year, and.... almost cry at the end of the school year, but I don't because I know there'll be a new group in the fall who I'll end up loving just as much."

Jean picked up more salad, chewed it slowly then swallowed. Her eyes swiveled towards Ron for a moment, then looked at her salad plate. She poked the leafy parts. "You're... you're really talkative tonight."

He didn't want her asking him questions, he wanted her to answer his. "Really? I don't know. Yeah, I guess I don't talk much."

Jean held her breath for a few moments, exhaled, took a slow deeper breath, poked her salad a little more, then started getting some onto the tines. She took another deeper breath. "Do... Do you have a girlfriend?" She raised the fork to her mouth, got the greens off the fork and started chewing faster than before.

His gut tensed. "No. No girlfriend." He shoveled a glop of mashed potatoes on his fork and ate it.

"Maybe... you'll meet the right girl in the fall, at college."

He didn't see how he'd figure out how to get his head together enough to talk to any girls he liked and wanted to date and get to know. He didn't know if he'd ever get it together. Even if a miracle happened and he could talk to them without sounding like an idiot, and asked some girl out, that didn't mean she'd say yes. He glanced at Jean and suddenly wondered if she was making fun of him. He quickly ate the last of the chicken. She was the weird one, not him!

He pushed his chair back and went to the sink, sc****d his plate into the garbage disposal, turned it on as he rinsed his plate off. He shut off the water and disposal and laid the plate on the countertop. "See ya later. I'm going over to Tom's." He didn't wait for her to respond, but heard her, "All right," as his hand grabbed the knob on the door to the garage.

He was bored as hell at Tom's but they shared a few beers leftover from the party. They drank out in the backyard out of sight while Tom's parents were inside watching TV. They didn't talk much. At 9PM, he said he was splitting.

He drove home, figured he'd beat off after watching some TV. As he slowed at the house, he saw the f****y room light on. He entered from the garage, going through the laundry room and into the kitchen where the ceiling light was on. He didn't hear the TV or music playing. He looked at the counter and checked the sink. No blue glass. He went into the f****y area. Aunt Jean wasn't there. Her car had been in the garage and he couldn't remember the last time she had gone anywhere at night. She read books all the time. She did that in her room sometimes at night when he was watching the big TV. He thought about turning that on. He knew before he did anything he'd have to walk upstairs, and check to see if her door was open, which, he realized might mean she was reading.

He left the lights on in the f****y room and went upstairs. Her door was open, light was spilling into the hallway, not much. He couldn't remember how much light came into the hall when she read. He stepped down to her door. He stopped a foot from the threshold.

Aunt Jean was on the bed, pillows propped up against the headboard, she was sitting, more like slouching, but not as much as she was the other night. She had the blue glass in her hand and she was taking a drink. Her other hand was between her legs. Her legs were folded, knees towards the ceiling, the soles of her feet flat on the bed sheet. She was naked. From the angle he couldn't see her hand but he assumed her finger was again playing with her cunt. He looked at her face. She was still sipping. She wasn't wearing her glasses. Her hair was mussed up, but he saw both her eyes, the half closed one within the disfigured eye socket, and the other good one.

Jean was looking at him over the end of the blue tumbler. Her legs wagged side to side slightly for a few seconds until she lowered the glass and set it down on the bedside table. It dropped to the surface with a - bonk. He could tell she hadn't done that on purpose. Her hand moved to her breast. Her hips squirmed. Her eyes gazed at his crotch. He glanced at the foot of her bed. In the space between the parson's table against the wall with the little TV and VCR on it, and the foot of the bed, there was the wooden chair with the upholstered seat that was usually at the desk. The only light on in the room was the tea lamp on the dresser.

He pushed his shoes off then pulled his tee-shirt over his head. He looked at her face, her eyes were still on his waist or his crotch. He walked over to the chair and looked at her cunt Her middle finger was slowly circling her fantastic large clit. Her other hand was massaging her B minus cup size right breast. Thumb and index finger sometimes tugged her erect gumdrop shaped nipple. Her freak eye was still exposed. Both eyes were on his crotch for sure. He opened his jeans and pushed them down to his knees. His rigid cock sprang out of his briefs. He sat on the chair, and finished getting his underwear, jeans and socks off. He sat up and gripped the base of his cock, then started slowly stroking it as he gazed at her cunt. He noticed an open tube of gel on the sheet at the foot of the bed He reached for it and squeezed some on the head of his dick, then coated his thick member with his slowly stroking hand. Aunt Jean watched.

Her cunt was thickly haired. It really did look like fur surrounding her slit. Her labia were pink and thin, delicate looking. Her thick ankles looked somewhat incongruent with the rest of her slender body but didn't detract that much. He had noticed long ago that her calves were toned and also looked smooth and hairless, not really shaved, but hairless. You couldn't even see pores. He knew she shaved them though, he had seen her take out a lady's razor from a grocery bag last year. The fur was intriguing but he wished it was shaved bald like chicks in porn vids.

He stroked his cock a little faster and she did the same with the two fingers circling her clit. He thought about how her legs were the last time, and he remembered another of his porn vids. A guy at the side of the bed, the girl's ass at the edge of the mattress, the guy folding her legs back, kneeling then tongue fucking her cunt. The girl loved it, after a few minutes she had an orgasm, then the guy stood up, kept his hands holding her legs back, the girl greedily grabbing his cock and pulling it to her cunt, the guy nudging it in, then fucking her so hard her body jerked with each thrust.

Ron slowed his hand and finally just squeezed his rigid prick for a few moments, then let it go as he stood. He picked up the chair by the back and moved to the side of the bed a couple feet from the edge of the mattress. He sat down. His voice was a raspy whisper, "Show me your cunt." He didn't look at Aunt Jean's face. He stared at the spot where he wanted her cunt to be, at the edge of the mattress.

Surprisingly, Aunt Jean started moving, wriggling and sliding on the sheet, her hand dragging a pillow along. She turned so her crotch was in front of him but not at the edge of the mattress. She assumed the same pose she had been in, legs folded, knees up, feet flat on the sheet, her thighs open. Her wet slit and fur patch were closer but not as close as he wanted.

They both kept working their organs. Ron kept staring at her clit. It was as large as the end segment of his little finger. He didn't think a clitoris could be that big until he saw one like it in a porn vid. It was magnificent. He wanted to feel it with his tongue, wanting to kiss and suck it, wanted to drive her as nuts as she had by herself a few days ago. It took him another minute to reach the point where he needed to lick and taste her pussy no matter what. His mouth was actually salivating.

He let go of his throbbing prick and stood again. He moved to the edge of the bed and leaned towards her pushing his arms between the backs of her angled thighs and calves. His hands palmed and gripped the tops of her thighs near her torso. He looked at her face and there was a mix of fear and anger at least in her good eye. Her hands moved and her palms pressed into the mattress to stop herself from moving. In one swift movement he yanked her towards him so her hips were at the edge of the bed, then his hands moved behind her knees. He quickly folded her legs back so her knees were very close to her shoulders as he shoved the chair back with one foot. The chair bounced back and fell over. He knelt down, and a moment later his mouth covered her wet cunt and his tongue was laving over her pink, slippery labia and her firm, incredibly large clit.

"Uh! Urrrh!" Jean's hips twisted, but she didn't say stop or even no. For a few more seconds Jean tried to push and squirm away and then her spine arched pressing the back of her head into the pillow. "Ahhhhh...... urrrmmm," she moaned, then started panting.

He had tasted cunt one time, right before his second fuck experience. He hadn't loved it, nor did it disgust him. At the time he was pretty d***k and just wanted to get his rocks off and thought licking the girl's cunt would get her to reciprocate and do his cock. It was just a thing to do at the time. But now, he felt possessed, not only did he want to stick his tongue in Jean's cunt, lick it, diddle it, suck and rub his tongue on her incredible clit, but also wanted to make her squirm and pant and scream in orgasmic delight. He wanted to taste her and remember her flavor forever. In a non sequitur, contradictory way, he subliminally wanted to punish the daytime Aunt Jean by giving as much pleasure as he possibly could to hot Jean of the night. He also wanted to plunge his cock into her every way possible, fill every orifice she had with his hot, sticky jiz.

Jean had never felt anything like it. It was her finger but a thousand times better. It felt so good. She never wanted it to stop. She started trembling and knew it was starting. Without thinking her hands reached for his head, one hand cupping the back, the other raking her spread, curled fingers through his hair. She raised her own head. And saw his face down there on her womanhood, his eyes closed as if she tasted sweet as candy, she never thought she would feel this, she never thought she would see any guy's face down there, any man's tongue pushing into her, wriggling, squirming, lapping her. Each lick, each wet, warm, slippery movement sent shivers through her, and then she saw something greater than that, his eyes opened and looked into hers and he stayed right were he was. It was all a dream, she was high again, d***k, her mind making fantasies come true for a few minutes. His eyes look so real though, so real and he was looking at her, he was really looking at her and not turning away, not laughing, not pointing.

Her head became too heavy and she had to let it flop back on the pillow. More shivers, more twitching, tingles so intense it traveled to her core, and then over ever square inch of her skin and all through her body, and it made her shake... squirm... jerk... Oh... more... more... more...

He felt her hand gripping his hair as her hips squirmed straining to push her drooling cunt into his mouth.

Jean's back arched. "Ah-h-h-h-h-h.... AH... AHHHH!" Her orgasm overwhelmed her, a slice of relief, a slice of freedom, and pleasure so strong she didn't have to think, didn't have to do anything, even move her body, the pleasure did that for her as wave after wave of orgasmic delight coursed through her. It may have only been a minute or two, but the intensity of it, time was irrelevent.

When her twitching and jerking slowed, her hands disappeared from his head, and he retracted his aching, tired tongue back into his mouth. He smeared his face over her slippery slit and wet muff. He was panting, his cock was aching, his balls screaming. Just as in the porn vid, he rose to his feet kept his hands behind her knees, leaned over her and ordered, "Stick my cock in, now... stick it in." Jean twisted to get her arm between her folded legs. He watched her delicate hand guide his rod to her channel and after he nudged the head in, he immediately rammed his thick, stiff cock into her as hard as he could. Her petite body recoiled just as in the vid.

"OH!" It was something else she had wanted to feel again for so many years. She felt it retreat then plunge in, again, again, again...

Thap... Thap... Thap... Their groins rammed together with each of Ron's thrusts

Her body lurched each time. She wasn't aware she responded with a brief moan after each plunge of Ron's thick, hard cock, "Uh... Uh... Uh..."

She tried to keep in place, but his passionate thrusts kept pushing her towards the center of the bed. His hands moved, sliding from around from the backs of her knees to where her thighs met her torso. He pulled her to the edge of the mattress again, this time he raised her legs by her ankles, forming a "V," then wrapped his arms around so his palms held the front of her thighs. He started thrusting into her again, her body recoiling from the f***e each time his thighs smacked against her bottom. Her hips started squirming and trying to push towards him to meet each plunge of his thick, hard rod. It was difficult getting the rhythm right. His hands moved her legs again, partially folding them, putting her petite feet flat against his chest. He pushed her with his cock, hands, and body. She started sliding farther onto the bed again.

Ron wasn't quite sure what he should do next. The position they had been in with her legs up, hadn't been working very well. He wanted her to reach orgasm, he wanted to know he had made her feel good, he wanted to know he could bring a chick to orgasm with his cock. He wasn't sure why that seemed so important. Punishing her with pleasure? As he continued moving her, he kept trying to remember positions and how the guys in the porn vids did it.

He let her feet down to the sheet when he got on the bed with her. He pushed and she slid, then he turned her angling her towards the headboard. They were in a missionary position, her legs bent slightly at the knees above the mattress, him between her spread thighs. His hands slid under her upper back, his palms cupped around her shoulders. She was gasping her breaths, her eyes were staring into his with an expression of fear and excitement, at least he hoped he was right about the latter. He looked at her neck then her smallish breasts and her gumdrop nipples.

His hips started moving and his cock started sliding in and back, in and back within her very snug, very warm, very slippery cunt. He didn't ram it in, kept doing it slowly but not that slowly. Jean started pushing with her hips and legs and started meeting each probe of his throbbing cock. Her arms moved, her palms pressed against the sides of his chest. He kept moving his hips, as he gave her breasts kisses, then sucked her taut large nipples, rubbing his tongue ravenously on them.

"Mmm-m-m-mhh," Jean moaned as her eyes closed. She felt the tempo of his sliding cock increase and she compensated with her own rocking, squirming, thrusting movements. It felt so good, so glorious. It had been so long, so very long. It really was her first time all over again, but so much better. She knew that even in her inebriated state.

He gave her arched throat a moist, breathy necklace of kisses. He pushed his face into her soft, brunette hair. He kissed her ear. He was panting. "Jean... I... I can't last much... longer."

"Yes... yes... yes..." Jean panted her words as her own movements grew more urgent.

Ron's cock picked up speed and f***e. His hands cupping her shoulders held her tighter. "Arrrrhhh... ahhh... jeezuz." He thrust harder and they both heard the thap-thap-thap of his groin meeting hers. A few seconds later, he was pounding his prick as deep and f***efully into her as he had at the edge of the bed.

Her hips responded in kind. She knew she was getting close to orgasm again, but at the moment what she wanted more than that was to feel Ron reach it. She never thought it would ever happen again after her two fumbling, naive experiences with her high school boyfriend. She hadn't peaked those times, but she had felt a wonderful psychological rush knowing her boyfriend had. The boy who started dating someone else at the end of her fifth week in the hospital. Her voice was breathy and urgent, "C'mon, baby... I wanna feel it... feel you cum... cum in me... cum in me."

He shoved deep again and didn't pull back. He savagely grinded his cock inside her, and his groin against her pussy. She felt perfect around him, tight, wet, warm, so damn perfect. "Ahh..... urrrhhh.... ahh.... fu-uck!" His body clenched tight.

They both felt Ron's cock surge. Jean's legs flexed as she pushed towards Ron, her hips swaying and squirming. Her pubis grinding against his, mashing and rubbing her shivering, turgid, pink clit against his pubic bone. Waves of tingling pleasure coursed through her. She flexed her vaginal canal tight around his cock. She felt it begin quick convulsions around him beginning her own orgasm.

"Urrrrhhh.... Ronnnn... mmmmhhhh!" Jean peaked, not as intensely as she had from his tongue, but that didn't matter. She could feel each spasm of his thick manhood, and each dollop of his viscous heat spew deep in her channel. She clenched her jaw and kept grinding towards him. He had so much goop. He just kept pumping and pumping, liquid heat streamed into her. It hadn't been like this with her boyfriend at all. "Ohhhhmmmm.... ohgod... oh gahhhhd."

Ron's cock didn't deflate instantly with the last surge. He was sure there was more jiz in his reservoir. His cupped hands holding her shoulders, held tighter as he pushed his face into her profile, her hair had the fragrance of sweet herbs and flowers. He pulled back and started thrusting again.

Thap-thap-thap-thap-thap-thap-thap...

"Oh!" The renewed thrusting surprised Jean. Her hips squirmed wildly. Her orgasm intensified. "Oh... oh Ron!" Her body started convulsing under him, completely out of her control as waves of erotic pleasure coursed and crashed through her body. She felt his body go rigid again, and once more she felt his cock surge and more liquid heat spurted deep in her snug channel. "Oh... oh god... mmmmmhhh," she moaned. She felt his body still tensed but his face moved, pushing into hair, then something happened that she thought she had less of a chance of experiencing again than sex.

Ron's torso shifted and rose on his elbows. His forearms slid under her shoulders so his palms would cup the sides of Jean's face. He looked into her eyes for a couple moments, then his face lowered. His mouth met hers. His tongue slowly slid between her soft lips and caressed her dumbfounded static tongue. Then hers started to move too and a oral erotic dance began. Her arms encircled his neck. His hands slid to the back of her head. She pressed her body towards him. He liked feeling her turgid, gumdrop nipples press into his chest. He was glad his cock was deflating slowly and was still within her. He sensed her channel grip his muscle again and he flexed his cock automatically. He felt her shiver again when he did.

At nearly the same moment, they both thought how good it had all felt, how perfect it had been, and each knew they wanted to experience it again and again and again.

* * *


Chapter 4

They got into a routine over the next couple weeks. Every other day or so, Ron would set the blue glass on the kitchen table, then go out. When he returned around 9:00 or 10:00PM, Jean would be in her room, naked, waiting for him, half wasted on whiskey. He'd go up, undress, and they'd screw like minx. They did oral on each other, they fucked in numerous positions, Ron leading, remembering as many positions as he could from the ten porn vids he had. They usually did it twice, a couple nights they did it three times. The couple nights they only screwed once, there were a couple oral-genital orgasms to make up for it.

He continued to be very concerned about her pleasure, about her reaching orgasm. It made him feel good when she hit orgasm. About a week after the first time, he discovered something when he tried to get Jean to stop sucking his cock because he didn't want to cum in her mouth, he wanted to cum in her cunt. In her half d***ken state she decided that she just had to have him gush in her mouth. She wouldn't let go and just kept sucking harder and harder as he tried to push her head away without hurting her. It struck him as very odd that he was trying to push her head away, not pulling it towards him and deep throating her as most of the guys in the porn vids did. He got her head back so she just had the head in her mouth and he couldn't believe how intensely she was sucking. After about a minute it started to hurt, then it hurt more, then even more. He palmed her forehead and pushed harder, then shouted, "GODDAMMIT! STOP! You're hurting me!"

Jean stopped counterpushing and he was able to shove her head back. There was a loud, POP! as his cock sprang from her sucking mouth. He was angry by that point, shoved her around, got her in a half doggy position, like that first night he saw her beating off, her ass up, her head and shoulders on the mattress. He rammed his cock into her the hardest he ever had, while his hand slid under her and played with her big clit. His erotic anger started to be laced with fear. His cock no longer hurt, but the head was numbed a little. It still felt awesome inside her slippery, tight cunt though, and he noticed that slight numbing gave him more control over when he'd shoot his wad. He really liked that sense of control.

He worked his cock from hard and fast to slow, deep and grinding from behind. He loved watching her firm cheeks absorb the shocks of the hard smacks of his groin as he plunged into her and she shoved back to meet his thrusts. He had a huge sense of accomplishment when Jean virtually went into convulsions with an intense orgasm, and his stiff throbbing cock wasn't even close to pumping his wad. They rested then screwed again trying a few new positions he recalled from porn vids, and they both reached orgasm together, Ron controlling his urge to shoot, and then actually making the decision pump his hot cream. Almost every time they were together after that, he told her to suck the head of his cock really hard.

Usually they'd keep going until 2 or 3AM when they'd both be exhausted. Jean wouldn't let him sl**p with her though, no matter how much he said he wanted to. If need be, she'd push him out of her bedroom and then lock the door after he was in the hall. They didn't always fuck roughly, sometimes, usually at Ron's lead, they did it slower, almost tenderly, at least for a while, then they'd both get more and more intense, until they were screwing like a****ls again. Even though Jean had finger fucked her ass, and let Ron do the same, she never let him push his cock into her butt, no matter how much he begged. It was the only thing she wouldn't do. She had let him cum in her mouth once, even swallowed it. After she did that, he had licked her to an orgasm, took a break, then tongue fucked her pussy to another orgasm, another break and then they had fucked. Afterwards, it was the only time Jean d***kenly laughed, saying she should let him cum in her mouth everytime. He had laughed too.

The "mornings after" that followed the more than half dozen erotic nights, weren't noticeably different than any other morning. Jean acted as if nothing odd had occurred the night before. She didn't look at Ron straight on, didn't change her 'uniform' from the baggy T's, baggy blue jean shorts, and her socks and sneakers. Ron sort of wanted to talk about it, but was afraid if he brought it up, Aunt Jean might freak out and the nights with 'hot Jean' might stop. A couple mornings he actually wondered if she remembered the nights with him. She was always in some stage of d***keness, but he never thought she was so wasted that the night would be a black hole in her memory. A couple times he actually wondered if she had something like a split personality, one Jean not knowing anything about what the other Jean did. He thought that was too much of a "Hollywood" explanation for it though. He finally concluded the daytime Jean had chosen to pretend the nights with him never happened.

There were changes in him though. He started eating dinner and breakfast or lunch with her a half dozen times each week. The first week he kept trying to get her to take off her glasses, or talk about her college days, or her life since college, but he never got much out of her, and she always had some excuse or just refused to take off her glasses. She also countered nearly every one of his questions with a question about him. It seemed both of them were trying to ask questions and not answer any.

They did find out a few facts about each other, that Ron had been on the varsity football and wrestling teams, and had no idea of what to major in at college; and that Jean had been one of the salutatorians of her college graduating class, and always ran the 1st to 3rd grader group Christmas pageant. To try to get her to open up more and extend the conversations, Ron actually started helping with the dishes or cleaning up after meals, in addition to his other usual chores, like taking out the garbage and the yard work.

The second week, something seemed to happen to both of them. Each day they became less and less hesitant about opening up a little more. They even laughed together a few times. They found out more about each other, Jean, spoke at greater length about some topics they had already covered, especially about her love of teaching. She told a few funny stories about some of her little students. Ron spoke more about high school sports and how he was now coming to the conclusion his time and effort might have been better spent doing something more productive, more intellectual. He confessed he was a little concerned he had no idea of what to major in at college. Jean told him not to worry too much at this point, she had no idea either when she started college. They also began talking about movies and lighter subjects too.

By the middle of the second week, he realized he looked forward to talking with her at meals and during the clean up afterwards. She still wouldn't take her glasses off nor look at him straight on, nor did she ever vary from wearing her "uniform."

He knew he was ignoring or pushing the notion out of his mind when it popped into his thoughts, that what they had done and were doing was i****t. He rationalized it somehow, mainly that it didn't feel like i****t to him. "Hot Jean" didn't seem like an aunt to him at all. He thought of her as some weird and very hot college chick, who loved doing it with him every couple days.

Sometimes it felt like it was all a dream. They'd screw but the next morning Jean was always Aunt Jean again, and since they never spoke of the nights together, it really did strike him at times that it might just be his imagination, even though he knew it wasn't. One morning Jean even had a hickey on her neck.

Near the end of the second week, Ron began to admit to himself that he really liked her, but there was something odd about it. When he was with "Hot Jean" he got his rocks off, loved every sizzling moment with her, yet, sometimes even during the torrid sex, he found himself wishing at least part of the sweet, nice, "Aunt Jean" who he was beginning to know was with him in bed. There were times that second week when he was out and he'd think about being with her, not fucking "night time hot Jean," but talking and maybe even laughing with "daytime Jean." He finally realized what he really wanted to do was push his cock into the "full Jean," the "total Jean" not just the slutty, d***k, hot Jean. When he felt the desire to be with "total Jean" it disturbed him a little and he wasn't really sure why, maybe because he wasn't sure why the "total Jean" seemed so much more attractive to him. He didn't even want to consider he might be feeling more than "like" for her, nor that she was filling a huge emptiness that had been in his life.

All that transpired over the course of s*******n days.

* * *


Chapter 5


Ron had gotten the idea the night before. When Jean left to run some errands after lunch, he set the blue glass on the table and under it he placed a cut out porn mag photo of a naked babe with a magic marker circle he had drawn around the girl's partially shaved pussy. The sides of her slit were baby smooth, but there was a small, somewhat triangular patch left at the top of her slit. He left and drove over to Josh's house, then to the mall. As they roamed the mall, Ron kept looking in the windows of all the women's clothing shops wondering what Jean would look like wearing the clothes on display.

He returned home around 10PM. His cock was already fully erect and his balls were aching for relief as he f***ed himself not to run up to her room, although he did take the stairs faster than normal. Her door was open, one of the small lamps was on. When he stepped across the threshold, Jean, as usual, was naked on her bed, drinking from the blue glass. He could tell she was at least half wasted. She swiveled on the bed still somewhat leaning back against the headboard. He saw she had shaved her muff, just like the ripped out magazine picture. Ron liked it, but nearly immediately found himself wishing for the thick haired furry bush. He realized he had really enjoyed rubbing his face into her "fur."

"I got a haircut, like you wannid me to, Ron." She took a gulp from the blue glass. "How come you din't come home earlier? I've been waitin' for you. Are you gonna fuck me now? Is that why you wannid me to cut my cunt hair, huh?"

Ron's cock was throbbing. He couldn't quite read his aunt. She seemed horny, had to be the way she was lightly and seemingly absentmindedly fingering her clit, yet her expression and voice made him think she was angry, not necessarily that he was late, because he wasn't, but angry in general.

"Com' 'ere. You wan' me to suck your cock, don't you?"

Ron stopped thinking with his brain and thought only with his prick. "Yeah. I want you to suck it." He pulled off his shirt then started on his baggy shorts.

"You wan' me to suck it like a slut, right? Huh? You want me to be a slut for you?"

"Yeah... yeah, like a slut. And... suck the head really hard when I tell you to."

" 'Kay. I'll do that."

He knelt on the bed and Jean got on all fours, put one hand on the base of his thick prick, laved the head, then the rod with her tongue, then took it into her mouth. Ron half moaned, half grunted. He leaned forward and ran his hands down her back to her perfect apple ass, stroking her buns for a while, then her back again. She was giving head a lot better than the first couple times. He rarely felt her teeth, the "O" of her mouth gripped him tightly as it slid down to meet her hand stroking up. Sometimes she moaned, hummed really, and it sent a very nice vibration through his tool. He'd usually groan in response. Once she hummed a giggle after his utterance and that almost made him shoot his wad. He kept looking at her ass, touching it, stroking it, squeezing it. He really wanted to push his cock into her ass. Her cunt was really tight, but he expected her hot asshole would be even tighter. Just the thought of doing it almost made him cum. He told her to suck the head really hard. She did, and as per usual, he had to lean away and push her head with his palm to get her to stop. POP! She said what she did sometimes, that she wanted him to cum in her mouth just like she "cummed" on his mouth.

Again, he really wanted, almost needed, to make her reach orgasm first. He didn't wonder why anymore, he just wanted to make her cum first. He told her to lay down, then he slid off the bed and pulled her hips to the edge as he had that very first time. He folded her legs up and back and held them there as his mouth devoured her newly coifed pussy. She got very wet, and with his own saliva a trickle of slippery juice drooled down over her hot little anus. He told her to hold her legs back herself, so her arms laced around her calves, her hands cupped the backs of her fat ankles. His tongue and mouth kept working her cunt and her wondrous, large, turgid clit while he drew his right hand down the back of her thigh and moved it below his chin. His thumb planted on her hot, squinting orifice already lubed with his drooling saliva and her pussy juice. He slid it over and around the hot spot with firm strokes.

Jean tensed for a moment, which just made the wonderful shivering tingles from her pussy intensify. "Mmmmhh... oh... oh yeahhh... yeahhh," she moaned as she pushed up towards his mouth and started slowly squirming her hips.

Without really thinking what he was doing, he sucked her thin, delicate labia into his mouth, rubbing his tongue firmly and quickly against the trapped pussy lips, then pushed them nearly all the way out, but quickly sucked them back in, more tongue strokes, then pushed out, sucked in, pushed out, sucked in over and over again while his tongue wildly stroked them, and his thumb rubbed faster on her torrid, slippery asshole. Jean started trembling and pushing towards his mouth more intensely.

"Oh... oh god... wha' 're you doin'... oh... oh god... don'... don' stop... oh god tha' feels good... so... good."

He kept it up for another half minute, then let her pink petals slip out. He stabbed his tongue into her weeping channel, swirling it around crazily as his thumb continued stroking her anus.

"Oh... oh... oh gahhhhhd." Jean started panting. Ron's mouth moved slightly and his tongue slid to her large, taut clit. He sucked it firmly but gently as his tongue rubbed it furiously. He'd never get enough of her incredible clit.

"OH! OHHHHHH-H-H!" Jean's eyes shut tight, as she lost control of her body. Wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through her, making her push her hips up and press her slit right up against Ron's wet mouth, her neck then her back arched, her cunt began contracting over and over again as her body quaked from the intensity of her orgasm.

Ron kept his tongue working until Jean's twitching became jerking. He didn't want to chance hurting her with his teeth, so he smeared his face against her wet, slippery slit. Before Jean he had never given much thought to whether or not a cunt could actually be pretty. Jean's was. With its delicate pink lips, large clit, and satin texture, it really did look, feel, and taste like some exotic, erotic flower. Knowing how snug, warm, and wet it was around his cock, made it even more beautiful. He needed to be inside her. He turned his head and looked at the wooden chair at the desk. He had wanted to try something he had seen on one of his porn vids. He hoped Jean was sober enough to do it. Jean was still trembling and huffing her breaths, but her twitching and jerking had subsided. He turned his face to her pussy again. He gently sucked her turgid clit and furiously rubbed the tip of his tongue on it again.

Jean's eyes shut tight. She started shaking again as her hips rose to push her cunt to Ron's mouth. "Oh-h-h-h-h... ohgod... urrrrrrh!" His tongue intensified the waves of pleasure radiating from between her legs. It was almost too much pleasure. She was nearly frantically panting her breaths. She murmurred, "Oh... oh Ron... Ron."

When Jean started to twitch and jerk again, he gave her drooling cunt a couple face strokes, then pulled her legs down. They hung over the edge of the mattress. He quickly rose from his knees, then got the wooden chair from the desk and brought it to the bed. He'd try what he had seen on that porn vid.

He took her hand and pulled. Jean gave him an inebriated smile as she kept huffing her breaths and sat up. He realized he really liked her smiling. It made her look even prettier and sexier.

Jean released a brief, breathy giggle. Her eyebrows rose. Her voice had a cute lilt to it, "You wan' me to suck your big cock again?" She wondered if he was going to sit in the chair for it.

"No... ahh... yeah.... yeah, just the head, and... and suck it really hard just... just for a little while."

"'kay." He didn't sit so she reached for his thick cock as she leaned forward and opened her mouth wide. She engulfed the head and a little more. Jean sucked it rhythmically like a baby at a nipple but didn't think of it that way. She realized again how thick and big he really was, she thought the same thing each time his wonderful cock first pushed into her pussy. She also knew she only had experienced one other penis with which to compare it. All that mattered was that it was the perfect size for her.

Ron growled, "Ahhh.... mannnnnn."

Jean liked it when he groaned like that. The "O" of her lips tightened around his circumference and her head started bobbing slowly, sliding her lips down the staff an inch or so, then up until it just slipped over the ridge of the spongy yet firm helmet of his manhood. She did it slowly a few times then picked up speed and slid it down a little farther meeting her gripping hand moving up and down from the base. She decided she wanted to feel Ron lose control and cum in her mouth. She was going to hold it in her mouth, then when he got soft and slipped from her lips, she was going to look up at him, meet his eyes to make sure he was watching, then swallow it all. She wanted to show him that she'd do anything for him.

"Urrrrhhh... fu-uck... Jean... jus'... jus' suck the head... the head... jus' the head."

"Mmm-mmmh."

The little vibrating hum almost made him pump his wad. His hands held her head. It took some strength for him to get her to stop bobbing. "Jean... jus' the head. I... I want to be inside your pussy. C'mon, jus' the head. Suck it really hard."

Jean protested with a long, pouting hum, "Mmmmmmhhhh-mmmmhhh."

Ron's eyes shut tight and his jaw clenched. The vibration nearly made him shoot. He struggled to ignore how good it felt. His eyes opened. "Jean... the head... suck hard. Suck it hard."

Jean finally did as he asked. Her cheeks went concave as she suckled the helmet as intensely as she could.

"Urrrrhh... yeah.... yeah." He felt himself loosen on his cum trigger. He felt the head numbing, then a few moments later it started to hurt. As always, when his palm pushed her forehead, Jean tried to resist. He grunted, "Enough... enough." He pushed her forehead harder.

Jean's head jerked back as she kept sucking. POP! She was huffing breaths as her tongue wiggled out of her mouth towards the now dark red head of Ron's cock. "Le' me... le' me suck it more."

Ron's hands moved to her arm pits. He pulled her up to her feet. "No... I need to be inside you." He sat on the chair and pulled one of her hands to his shoulder then both his hands went to her waist. "Step onto the side rungs of the chair, then... then lower down onto my dick. Know what I mean?"

"Ummm... 'kay." She put her other hand on his other shoulder. She giggled as she placed left foot on the side rung, then wobbled a little as she placed her other petite foot on the opposite rung. "Oh...'kay... I get it."

Ron moved his hands to her hips. He watched her right hand take hold of his throbbing rod. Her legs started to bend at her knees. He watched her glistening cunt move to the tip of his prick. Her delicate, pink labia were flared open from his oral ministrations. She rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her wet, slippery slit, then she lowered more and the head nudged inside her warm, wet channel.

"Urrrhhhh," Ron groaned.

Jean giggled softly at his moan. Her hips swayed as she pushed down slightly. More of his thick, hard rod slid into her tight, juicy channel. He felt extra big, then she realized that her legs flexing holding herself up, was also making her pussy clench. She held his shoulders tighter and put some of her weight on him, relaxing her legs a little and her pussy followed suit. She pushed down while still swaying her hips and half of his cock worked into her cunt.

"Ahhhh.... jeezuz... Jean, that... that feels so good."

Jean smiled, then pushed down harder. It felt very good to her too. She liked gripping him so tightly, feeling every fraction of his hardness sliding up into her. She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply, then her breathing quickened as she took the last inch of him inside her. She felt the firm yet spongy helmet push against her cervix. "Ohhhhh.... mmmmmmhhhh."

She felt Ron's hands hold her hips tighter, felt his thighs flex and then he pushed up into her as his hands made her ass move side to side on his lap. Her back arched as she did the movement herself, squirming on his thighs. She pushed down harder and as she swayed and rocked, sometimes her large clit smooshed against his pelvic bone. "Oh... mmmhh." She felt his hands nudge her up. Her legs flexed again and her bottom rose slowly, still swaying, her cunt still very tight around his rod, moving up and up until just the bulbous head was inside her. She then pushed down hard and Ron pushed up. Her channel was instantly stretched again. She heard a soft - thap - as her ass met his thighs. She did it again, then again, then again. Thap - thap - thap.

Jean tilted her head down and watched. Thap-thap-thap. Soon she was bouncing on him. Ron kept pushing up to meet her. "Oh... oh god... mmmmh." She shut her eyes tightly. It was almost like riding a horse, some hot, erotic horse.

Without thinking, Ron's hand left her hip and he brought it down on the cheek of her ass. Smat! "Faster... harder... harder, Jean."

The spank was a shock but she liked the sensation of hot, tingling pins and needles on her bun. She got more crazed, shoving down harder as he wanted. She was panting. She whispered between breaths, "Do... that... some... more."

Ron's other hand moved. As her ass started down again, he gave her left bun a swat. Smat! Then when she rose and started down again, his other hand gave her right cheek a spank. Smat! The left - Smat! The right - Smat!

"Oh!" Jean's bottom was covered with hot, shivering pins and needles. It drove her wild. She was rising and slamming down on Ron's lap so fast and hard he couldn't rise up to meet her. "Oh... oh god.... Ron....Ron... mmmmmhhh." Her eyes were shut tightly. She felt his hands hold her waist. She slammed down on his thick cock again and then grinded wildly on his lap.

Ron's eyes were shut too. He didn't want to shoot his wad yet. Her cunt felt so very tight and awesome around his prick. He was breathing nearly as ragged and fast as she was. "Hold... hold on. I wanna.... get on the bed."

"Mmm... do... do we hafta?" She pushed down and grinded even more intensely. She was getting close to another orgasm. She didn't want to move to the bed.

He growled, "Yeah... yeah, we do. Hold on."

When she leaned forward and encircled his neck with her slender arms, he slid forward on the chair and her legs folded upward against his sides. He gripped the cheeks of her ass with both hands. As he started to stand her legs wrapped around his lower back. He took the couple steps to the bed and lowered her towards the mattress. She kept clinging to him like a baby monkey to its mother as he crawled towards the headboard, his cock still buried deep inside her, her channel gripping his girth tightly. He lowered her to the sheet, then folded her legs up and back and kept them in place in the crooks of his elbow. His hands cupped around her shoulders. He had done it this way before. He needed to fuck her hard and rough. She was already squirming and pushing against his groin. His throbbing thick cock was still buried deep inside her perfect hugging channel.

Jean was panting. "Are... you going to... fuck me... hard... hmmm? Are you gonna... do it hard... really hard?"

He grinded intensely against her pubic bone. He was also huffing his breaths. "Is that what you want? Huh? You want me to fuck you really hard and fast, Jean?"

"Yeah... c'mon... do it... do it to me..... c'mon, Ron... harder... I wanna do it hard."

Her asking for it nearly made him empty his balls into her. He pulled back and slammed into her as hard as he could. Her body lurched but his cupped hands under her shoulders kept her in place on the sheet. He reared back again and rammed into her once more.

"OH! Oh... god... yes.... yessss... faster... oh god, Ron... it feels... so good... so good, baby." She panted a few deep breaths. "So good! Yes! YES!"

Ron's cock became a supercharged piston. Jean bucked under him in perfect timing to meet each of his thrusts. Their pubic bones rammed against each other. It hurt a little but felt wild and crazy, and so it was good. In less than two minutes he knew he was going to pop his rocks. "Oh... jeezuz... I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum, Jean... oh fuck... arrrrrhhh!"

"Yes... yes! Deep... deep in me, Ron... ohgod... fill me. Deep... Deep! Fill me... Fill me, Ron! I wanna feel it!"

His mind was reeling so he wondered only a moment if this time was the most verbal for Jean to date. He did want to fill her up. He rammed deep once more, then kept grinding his groin against her and his cock swayed inside her warm, wet, tight channel. "Arrrhh... oh.... oh Jean... oh... fu-UCK!" His cock exploded in her depths gushing gobs of cum into her. Jean pushed and grinded towards him violently. After a half dozen spasms of his throbbing cock, he let her legs unfold down to the mattress. Her legs were bent at the knees slightly as she used them and her back to push up towards him again. He grinded into her once more and then lowered to her chest as his cock rippled another three times shooting blanks. He pushed his face into her fragrant hair, breathing heavily and mumbling, "Jeezuz... Jean... ahh jeez... you're... you're so hot... so good... so perfect." He kept huffing breaths. His body stiffened once again and incredibly his cock shot once more. "Urrh!" He turned his head towards her shoulder just to get cooler air. He kept most of his weight off her with his elbows.

With the last ripple of his cock, she hugged him very tightly with her arms and legs, it was more difficult to breathe and catch his breath. A couple minutes later he felt her shaking slightly, then more. He started to smile as he kept sucking breaths. He was sure she was about to start laughing. He knew if he heard a laugh, he'd laugh too, even though he wasn't aware of what was funny, maybe his total exhaustion. He had just fucked the hot version of his aunt and did feel like chuckling about that, not because it was funny, but that it felt so good, a little laughter would seem to follow the grin on his face.

She made him feel so good. She made him feel like a man. It was so odd that she was older yet in bed like this, he felt like the older one, or at least equal age with her. Although he had started wishing even more that they could be more normal about it all. Not have two Jeans, one of the day and a different one of the night, but have one single total Jean. Would that ever be possible? He felt her take a deep breath, then her body jerked. He heard something like a cough and realized she wasn't laughing, she was crying. His contented smile instantly vanished.

He had to use some strength to get her arms and legs to release him. When he did, she rolled onto her side and into a fetal position, in the process his deflated cock slipped out of her. She was crying intensely, sometimes sobbing. He lay on his side, spooning her, pushing his lower arm under her side to wrap both his arms around her petite body, holding her close to him.

"W-W-Wha' have... I-I-I d-d-done?" Jean released a couple sobs. "I'm so... u-u-ugly... a-a-an' now... I'm s-s-so b-b-bad. I... I c-c-can't... h-h-help it-t-t. I... I wan' it. I-I don' wann be... alone. I don' w-wanna be alone. I... I don' wanna be u-u-ugly an' b-b-bad. I'm s-s-sorry... s-s-so s-s-sorry. It's... it's... all m-m-my f-f-fault... m-m-my f-fault." Jean broke down into breath sucking sobs again.

Ron not only felt like the biggest asshole in the world, he also felt a crushing guilt. He realized he was taking advantage of a girl who was obviously a little nuts if not truly crazy. But how was he harming her really? She just said she needed it, and he needed it too. They weren't hurting anyone one else by fucking. No one knew and no one would know. He realized he didn't want to be alone either. Oh shit. He hadn't given it much thought, but he had assumed she was on the pill. She had to be on the pill! His gut tightened more. What if she isn't?! He had to ask about that, obviously not now, but soon. Did she want to stop fucking him, even though she just said she wanted it? He wanted her so damn much but he would never f***e her to do it.

Jeezuz... what if she did want to stop fucking him? He needed her as much as... no, he needed her more than she needed him. Was he using her? Taking advantage of her because she was depressed or emotionally screwed up? Or... was she taking advantage of him because he was a teenage guy who was always horny? Were they using each other? Both of them being selfish, getting what they wanted and it just happened to be they wanted the same thing? Did he care about her at all?

Yes, he did care about her! He had been an ass to her before. He had treated her terribly. He did like her, he liked her a lot. He might even love who the "total Jean" might be. He didn't want to think about love though. Yes, it was all screwed up. She was his aunt, it was i****t, but he had refused to even really think about that until this moment. They weren't hurting anyone! They weren't even hurting each other! So what if it was i****t!

But, why was she sobbing right now if she wasn't getting hurt? Oh shit, what would he do if she didn't want to fuck him anymore? He'd go nuts being with her for the next couple months, knowing how good it could be and then not be able to touch her. He had to do something, had to at least say something to her now. He realized what a selfish asshole he was at the moment. He should be more concerned about Jean, not whether or not she was going to stop fucking him.

He was glad her sobbing had stopped and she was just crying hard now. She didn't want to be ugly and she wasn't when she was the hot Jean. She had to change the 'daytime Jean.' Ron quickly decided that was the real problem, not i****t, not any of the other stuff. 'Aunt Jean' wouldn't even look someone in the eyes because she thought she was ugly. That's what was nuts! He had to somehow get her to realize that. Any girl who wore the kind of clothes she did would probably think she was ugly too! His mind started racing. What did she last mumble?

He kissed her shoulder, then her head. "Jean... I... I'm the one who's sorry. I... I don't want to stop..." He blinked. He shouldn't say 'fuck.' "I don't want us to stop being together like this, but... I mean... Do... do you want us to stop being together like this?" He wondered if she was so d***k she'd not understand what he was saying. He wished he was better with words. He held his breath waiting for her answer. He didn't want her hurt. He didn't want her to feel bad about any of it. He admitted to himself there was more to it for him than the sex. What he wanted was to be with the the total Jean, the Jean in between the Jean of the night and Aunt Jean of the day. Did 'middle' or 'total' Jean even exist? He did care about her! He really didn't want any of this to hurt her or make her cry.

"No... I don'... don' wanna stop an'.. an'... th-th-that makes m-m-me so... s-s-so bad."

He exhaled, kissed her cheek, then even kissed her disfigured eye socket. It made her cringe. He spoke softly and hurriedly, "It's not, we're not bad, Jean. We're not hurting anyone... it's... it's us... us just ahhh... caring for each other, giving... giving each other what... what we need. We... we're... we're sharing something... that's... that's really nice, really... uh... beautiful, right? It's... it's good not bad."

"I-I-I d-d-don' know any... anymore." She let our another sob. "I... c-can't h-help that... I wan' it. I like you... an' tha... t.. t..." Another sob.

"It... it is good. But... I think we... we have to make it better and... and..." He wasn't sure he should say what was on his mind. Maybe they'd never fuck again. "I... I think we need to... to stop drinking so much beforehand... I mean... when we do it together, when we're together like this. I... I think it'll be better, you know, not being d***k and... and you'll... we'll feel more, and... and you'll be able to see that... that I really do think you're beautiful. I... I think you being dru... you being a little tipsy, you don't really see how... how I think you're beautiful and... and hot, and nice, and... and how much I like you, and like being with you."

"I... I don' know if... if I can... can do this without d-drinking. I need it... an'... an' you... I need you so much... s-s-so much, R-R-Ron." Again she broke down into intense crying.

He knew what he had to say and it was the truth. He gave her cheek, her temple, her screwed up eye socket kisses, then kissed her ear. He spoke softly, "I need you too, Jean. I need you just as much as you need me. Together we're not alone. I don't want to make you cry though. I... I want to make you feel good. I... I want to help you see how pretty you are. I want to... to be together like this when... when you haven't been drinking, when neither of us have been drinking. I want you to be... I want to help you to... to relax around people, to... to dress like... like some cute chick, which is what you are. I want you to see how... how good and... and normal you are and can be. I don't just want to be in bed with you. I... I want us to do things together, get to know each other better."

He was shocked his own eyes started welling with tears. "Jean... I like you. I want to be with you when you haven't been drinking at all. I want us to do more than have sex together, just... just do normal things together. I... I want you to be happy and... and you're not gonna be if... if you don't change. I want... want you stop worrying so much about... about how you look, and... and I want you to look me in the eyes all the time not just when we're together like this. I want you to try to be... be less worried about what everyone thinks and... and... and just try to be... be yourself, and be happy. I like you... I like you a lot." Tears started running down his face. It made him feel like a goddamn wimp.

Jean had heard at least half of what he had said. He liked her. He did think she was pretty, or maybe that was his pity talking but it didn't seem like pity. She heard him sniffle and realized he was crying too. His tears lessened her own but didn't stop them. She pushed his arms away, then twisted towards him. She put her arms around him and his returned around her. "I'll... I'll try, Ron... I'll try for you to... to be... to be braver... more... normal. I... I'll try not to... to drink so... so much."

"We're... we're going shopping for you tomorrow. We're going to do that no matter what, Jean. I'm not k**ding. We are. You... you can't be dressing like... like you do all the time. I... I'm buying you new clothes. I'll... I'll help you pick things out."

"All right... all right, anything, honey, jus'... jus' don't leave me."

When she agreed Ron's tears stopped but Jean continued to softly cry on and off for the next fifteen minutes, grabbing more tissues a few times. Finally she settled down. Ron told her he felt exhausted. She said the same. She didn't tell him to leave. They continued holding each other and within ten minutes, they had both dozed off.

* * *


Chapter 6

Jean was wide eyed behind the large sunglasses. Ron had almost not let her wear them. She had lied to him when they had breakfast, well, when she had made him breakfast. Her stomach was too upset with a hangover and anxiety about the previous night to eat anything, nor did she eat much of a breakfast on any day. She lied when he asked if she remembered agreeing to go clothes shopping for her today. She had said she couldn't remember that, and she'd have never agreed to it. He had gotten angry, had stood up from the table and paced back and forth. He said they were going shopping, even if she didn't remember promising, he was going to make her go, even if he had to tie her up and carry her around.

He then went down a list of things, how it wasn't bad that they were having sex, that it wasn't hurting anyone, that they both wanted to do it and it was helping both of them. It was sharing and it was good, no matter what anyone else would think. He told her that, yeah, he was dumb and just a teenager and didn't know everything, but she was even dumber because she was being afraid when she had nothing to be afraid of. She was pretty and sexy even if she didn't know it and was blind to it. He said he was fed up watching her act like the way she dressed, like she was some stupid dork, someone who didn't even know how to act around people, which he knew she did know how to do.

He shouted that he was sick of her coming across to him and everyone else like she was some crazy person because she wasn't crazy and definitely wasn't ugly and that her acting like that made him so fucking angry. He told her she had promised him last night to go shopping, to let him pick out her clothes, to help her with that, that he'd even use his own money, and that she was goddamn going to do it, even if she shouted or cried or acted like some goddamn crazy person the entire time. He didn't care if she kicked and screamed like some little brat, he was going to drag her from store to store until she had enough clothes so she could dress differently every day. And if she somehow refused, he was going to rip up every one of her stupid "uniforms," her stupid oversized, bad fitting, stupid blue jean shorts and T shirts!

His outburst hadn't scared her, but it had affected her. No one had ever spoken so frankly and f***efully to her. She actually believed he would have dragged her kicking and screaming from store to store. She had been overwhelmed by him. When he asked a few more times if she remembered agreeing to go shopping, she had finally admitted she sort of remembered, and when she said that, he had virtually pulled her around telling her to get ready. He had held her hand tightly as he took her out to the car, opened the door for her and then shut it for her, very gentlemanly, but it was more as if he had expected her to bolt away and he was going to catch her before she escaped.

She had also been remembering everything else too. She obviously knew what they had been doing was terribly wrong. Until last night she had just rationalized that it happened because she had been d***k. She had promised herself after every time they had sex that it would never happen again. She guessed that last night, she had finally admitted to herself she had been rationalizing and outright lying to herself. She didn't want it to stop. She needed it, not just the sex, but the rest of it too, she was so glad he was talking with her now and spending time with her. And from what she remembered only having sex twice with her long forgotten boyfriend before her life had been changed by the accident, Ron was a great lover. She didn't have to remember the other two times as a teenager and compare him to that other boy, all she had to do was remember the past couple weeks, and how many orgasms he had given her.

"Hold your head up, Jean."

"I am." She lied. She raised her head.

"And put your damn shoulders back too."

"I... I'm standing fine."

"Jean.... do it."

She did as he said. She was too tired, hungover, and so near an anxiety attack she didn't want to argue.

Ron pointed to a small clothing store. He had just seen four college chicks walk out. "We'll start there."

"Ron... I... I don't want to go in here. I... I haven't been in a mall for... for years. I... I shop at Walmart for clothes. Why... why don't we go there. Please."

Ron held her hand tighter. His voice was stern. "No. We're going in here. I've got a bunch of money. You're getting new clothes. Stuff that fits, and we're going to other stores too, so.... so get used to it."

She tried to pull him to a stop, then twist her hand from his. "I... I can't."

His hand tightened on hers. He kept pulling her. "That's bullshit. If you shop at the grocery store and... Walmart, you can shop in a mall too. It's not that big of a deal, Jean. Don't get me pissed off." He opened the boutique's door, his hand released hers and then quickly went to her lower back. He virtually had to shove her inside. He was determined to get her through this shopping trip, but his attitude was mostly feigned. He was really concerned she was going to freak.

*


He stepped up to her bedroom door and stood there for a few moments. They had gotten back from the mall after 2:00 PM. He was glad he had been really horny from just seeing her try on clothes that fit, because as soon as they got into the house, he had pulled Jean upstairs. When they got to her room, he nearly ripped her "uniform" clothes off and his own. He had passionately kissed her as he had pushed her to her bed, then as soon as she sat down, he was on his knees, raising her legs, and folding them back, and his mouth was on her cunt a moment later.

His horniness had gotten them over the fear of doing it with her sober. It had been the best time ever. Jean was just as sexy and hot and awesome as all the times she had been wasted. It had taken a huge weight off his shoulders or mind or wherever that heavy worry was. He smiled softly. He was going to 'make love' with her again later. He was going to do everything she loved. It was going to be her night, everything for her later.

"Jean?" He waited a few moments. No answer. He tapped on the door lightly. His voice volume rose. "Jean? You dressed yet?"

"Yes... but... why don't we stay home? I'll wear this dress and... and then make you dinner, and... and then afterwards... I'll... I'll make you feel so good, Ron. We.... we'll stay up all night and... and I'll do anything you want. Just... just let's stay home. I did the shopping with you today. Isn't that enough for one day?"

He tried the door knob. It was locked. She had done everything he wanted today, but he wanted her to do more, she had been too damn afraid for way too many years, and he was sure this would be good for her. His voice softened, "Jean, open the door. I want to see you in the dress again."

"Can't we just stay home?" She didn't notice her voice sounded like a little girl's.

"I really want to see you in the dress. Come on. Open the door." If she refused he was going to get the pin and unlock it. He waited twenty seconds. His voice came out stern, "Jean."

"Just a second." She got up from the bed and walked to the door. She opened it. "Ron, please. Can't we just stay home? I put this dress on for you. Isn't that enough? Really, please. Let's stay here tonight. Please."

Again Ron couldn't believe his eyes. She looked incredibly hot in the form fitting short tank dress. Except for the stupid fake glasses, she really could be some girl from his graduating class, well, at least some college babe. She had those fat ankles but her legs shaved looked good, very attractive, hot. Her cute, even pretty, little feet in the thin strap leather sandals were even sexy. He looked at her face. Her hair was pushed forward at the side to hide her disfigurement. His hand rose and his fingertips combed the hair on the good side of her face back. Then he started to do the same on the scarred side. Her body stiffened.

"Ron, please... don't do that. Leave my hair there. Please."

He could see her good eye was tearing, nearly brimful with tears, the odd eye was too. The deformation around her eye socket was mostly hidden by the dumb glasses. "I think it looks good like this." She turned her face from him. His palm cupped the injured side of her face and he had to use a little strength to get her to look at him again. "I like you facing me when we talk." He lowered his hand and looked her over quickly. Something was missing. "Oh... uh... do you have a purse or bag or something?"

"Just my... my big bag."

"Ahh... well, do you need to take anything? You know, any..." He didn't know what to say. A small smile came to his mouth. "Any girl stuff?"

"Yes... no... I don't know. Ron, please, let's..."

He interrupted, "Jean, you look terrific, better than in the store when you tried this on and you looked awesome there."

Jean bowed her head and trembled as she started crying softly. "Don't... don't make fun of me."

He frowned, then put his arm around her shoulders and nudged her toward the dresser. He pulled out some tissues from the box and gave them to her. "Wipe your eyes, then look in the mirror."

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose with her head bowed. "No."

"You said you'd do anything for me a few moments ago."

"I will. Let's just stay home."

"What I want is for you to look in the mirror." His jaw tensed. "Do it, Jean, right now." She slowly raised her head. "See? You look terrific. Pretty, and hot and... jeezuz... you look my age."

"I don't... I look awful."

"I hope you know I really like what we do together in this room. It's... it's awesome for me. Do you like what we do together?"

"You... You know I do."

"I... I would miss spending those times we've been having lately if it all had to stop, I mean, you know, before college this fall. I would miss you a lot, Jean. Would you miss our time together too?"

"I'd... I'd miss you a lot. Why... why are you asking me that?"

"You know how I asked you this afternoon, and even before this afternoon, what you'd like me to do to make you feel good, and you've asked me the same question?"

"Yes."

"I would like you to go out with me tonight, like we agreed, to dinner, then.... then maybe that outdoor cafe in town. That would make me feel really good, Jean. I really want to do that with you."

Tears started rolling down her face again. "I don't want to be stared at, looked at. You don't understand."

"I thought you didn't mind me looking at you now? Were you lying?"

"No. You can look at me. I... I trust you now, I mean... I mean everybody else."

Ron spoke softly, "You know, when I've gone out on a date, I'm only concerned that my date looks at me, pays attention to me. I... I wouldn't want her thinking about anyone else around, worrying about if they were looking at her or not. And I don't care if anyone else looks or doesn't look at me. The girl I'm with is who concerns me. I guess you don't feel that way." It was sort of what had thought of to say in anticipation of this very conversation. He wondered for a moment if he had ever really thought anything like it on his handful of dates. Probably not.

"That's... that's not what I mean. You know what I mean."

He wasn't going to convince her. He didn't know enough. He had been about to threaten her, no dinner out, then no sex. Then he got afraid she'd get angry and tell him to go to hell. His voice was soft again, "Jean, I want us to have dinner out just as much as I want us to sl**p together. If something... something awful happens tonight, I... I won't ask you to do this again. I... I thought this would... would be fun to get out of the house. I thought it would show you that... that I like you, that it's not just the sex for me anymore. I want to know you better. I... I want us to go out tonight. If something terrible happens, we won't ever do it again." He prayed nothing untoward would happen.

She couldn't figure out why he wasn't embarrassed to be seen with her. He was being sweet, but he just didn't understand. Maybe if he saw what would happen he'd know she was right. "If... if something bad happens, we... we won't have to do this again?"

"Yeah, but... but you have to... you have to... you have to..." He didn't know how to say it. He figured he shouldn't say she had to act 'normal.'

"Have to do what?"

"You know how you're looking down right now?"

"So what?"

"You can't do that tonight. If you do, that'll break our deal. And... and we'll do this again even if something bad happens."

"What difference does it make how my head is?"

"Well, I'd like you to look at me just like you've started doing today, and ... and I think it looks really stupid to walk around with your head down."

"See? Even you think I look hideous."

"I didn't say that." His jaw clenched for a moment. He finally got an idea. "Your first grade k**s, your students?"

"What about them?"

"What would you say to some little boy or little girl who always walked around looking down at the floor or... or never looked into your eyes when you spoke to them?"

Jean bit her lower lip. She wiped her eyes again with the damp tissue. "All right. I'll go and... and keep my head up, but if something... something bad happens, I'll never do this again and you won't make me do it again."

Ron exhaled. "Great. Let's go." He took her hand. "Look at me."

She raised her face and met his eyes.

He smiled. "Hi."

Her face scrinched and her eyes welled up yet again. Her voice squeaked, "Hi." She wiped her eyes with the tissue.

Ron kissed her cheek. "You look awesome." He headed to the door. He was glad he didn't have to pull Jean out of the room.

It took them less than fifteen minutes to drive to the restaurant. Ron walked around the car to help her with her door. He and Dad went to this Thai restaurant about once a month when he was home. He held Jean's hand. She was lagging behind a half step, as if she was trying to hide behind his back. He pulled the entry door open and nudged Jean so she'd walk in first. When she was inside she turned towards him as he entered, then when he took her hand again, she again lagged a half step behind him. He smiled at the hostess.

The Asian girl smiled. "Hello. How many? Just two?"

"Yeah, just us. Could we have a booth?" He didn't want to push Jean too much in one night and he liked the booths better.

"Is a table okay? All the booths are taken."

Ron saw the place was only half full. He looked at Jean. She had her head turned pretending to look at a framed travel poster on the wall. He tugged her hand. "Jean? Let's get a table, okay?" She didn't face him just nodded. "Pardon me?"

Jean stared at the poster. "I guess that's fine."

He tugged her hand. "What?"

She bit her lower lip and turned to face him. She knew the ugly side of her face would be seen by the very pretty hostess. Her eyes welled, then her jaw tightened for a moment. "Yes. A table. Okay." Jean's eyes glanced at the pretty girl. She was smiling at her, then at Ron.

"Table then?"

Ron smiled. "Yeah."

"Okay." The girl turned and headed towards an open table.

Ron released Jean's hand, his went to her back and nudged her forward.

She whispered, "Can't... can't you walk first?"

"Ladies first." His hand gave her another nudge. He whispered, "Head up."

Jean bit her lower lip again and started walking. She didn't glance at any of the diners just kept looking straight ahead to the table where the girl was standing. Near the table, Ron moved to her side and pulled out the chair for her, then sat opposite her at the square table. The girl smiled at her as she handed her a menu, did the same with Ron, then walked away.

"Dad and I come here about once a month. I like it. I hope you like spicy, but if you don't there's a lot of things that aren't all that hot, you know, spicy hot. Do you like Thai food?" He realized he should have asked earlier.

"I... I've never had it."

"We always get the yam neua and the pad thai. The first one's a really spicy beef salad, and the pad thai is not spicy hot but really tasty. Oh... and the fresh spring rolls are really good as an appetizer and so is the sa..." He glanced at Jean. She was hiding her face behind the menu. "Jean?"

"Yes." She kept pretending to read.

"Our deal, you're... you're supposed to look at me when we talk."

She raised her face. "I was reading the menu. People do that, you know."

Ron grinned. He knew she hadn't meant it as a joke but it had sounded like one. "Yeah, someone told me that once." He chuckled.

She liked his blue eyes very much as well as his boyish grin. The corner of her mouth curved slightly but her eyes teared a little once more.

He kept looking at her and smiling. She was cheating, her hair on the scar side was forward, near her dumb eye glass frames hiding most of the scarring and disfiguration. "I was going to say we should try a couple appetizers, and a few entrees. Dad and I always over-order then doggy bag the leftovers. They're good miked the next day."

"All right. May I go back to reading the menu?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, sure."

"Do... do they serve drinks here?"

"You mean alcohol?"

Jean whispered, "Yes."

"Nope."

"I... I think you should order everything since you know the food here."

"Dad and I usually split all the dishes, you know, like f****y style. We'll do that too, okay?"

"All right."

"I think you should at least pick one entree. Maybe you'll choose something I've never had and it'll be good."

"Okay." Jean raised the menu again, then furtively glanced around only moving her eyes. No one was looking at her. She finally started to actually read the menu.

The waitress came up with glasses of ice water. "Are you ready to order?" She smiled at the guy then at the girl. She noticed the awful looking, big frame glasses and wondered how bad the girl's eyes were and if it had anything to do with her terrible wound.

Ron glanced at the pretty girl. "We're not quite ready to order."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jean's breathing had quickened. The girl had looked at her ugly eye. She told herself to calm down. The girl hadn't stared that long, but longer than most of the sales girls and cashiers had at the mall. Jean's eyes followed her to see if she told some other waitress about it or the hostess. The girl walked up to the kitchen window and picked up some plates of food. She didn't talk to anyone. "Ron, the waitress... she.... she..." Jean bit her lower lip. She didn't really know what to say. The girl hadn't made a scene, hadn't pointed her out to anyone, nor had she even made a face about it.

"Huh?" He raised his eyes from the menu. Jean's eyes were welled up again. His heart sank, then he got irritated. "What about the waitress?"

"I... I... she's... she's very pretty."

He looked at the menu. "Yeah, Asian girls are pretty, at least the waitresses here. Most of them, I guess." He knew that wasn't what she was going to say. "Oh... and Thai iced coffee, that's really good afterwards, but... if we're going to the cafe... ahh... we'll see. Do you like pork?"

"I... I... it's okay."

*


He watched Jean pick up her iced coffee and suck the straw. "It's good, isn't it?" He smiled at his nearly undeniable urge to kiss her lips. She looked so damn cute at the moment, and would be even cuter without the dumb glasses.

"Uh-huh. You're right, it sort of reminds me of a coffee ice cream shake, but... much thinner." She smiled softly.

"Jean, take your glasses off."

Jean's smile instantly disappeared. Her eyes started darting around the room. People had come and gone. There were still as many people in the restaurant as earlier though. A few people had stared at her. She was sure they had been looking at her ugly eye. "Ron... please... please don't make me do that. I... I came out tonight. I... I'm not looking down. Isn't that enough?"

"No. Take 'em off."

"This... this was okay, it's been.... very nice... why are you ruining it now?"

"Oh, jeezuz, Jean, take the glasses off... now."

Jean clenched her jaw. Her eyes welled. She tilted her head down, slipped her glasses off and put them on the table. There was an edge to her voice, "There. Happy now?"

"No. Look at me."

The edge disappeared from her voice, replaced by a pleading whine, "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"I'm not being mean. I'm being normal. I... with any girl, I might... I'd probably ask her to take her glasses off, just to see her eyes better."

"No, you wouldn't."

"I would if she was wearing fake glasses."

"They're... they're.... I.... I need them."

"No you don't. Don't lie about it."

"You don't understand."

"I think it's you who doesn't understand."

"You don't know.... you just don't know." She started to cry, but then constrained it somewhat. She trembled as tears ran down her face.

"Raise your face."

"No." Her hair hung like curtains at the sides so she didn't see the waitress approaching with the check.

The pretty waitress walked up to the table with the take home bag and little check tray. She glanced at the guy then looked at his date. She thought the girl was crying. Guys could be such asses sometimes! She set the bag on the table then leaned forward and put her hand the girl's shoulder. The girl flinched and had a terrified expression on her face when she looked up. The girl's hand quickly combed her hair over her scarred wound. There were tear trails on her cheeks. "Are you all right? Are you feeling sick?" She suddenly hoped there wasn't something wrong with the food. The girl's good eye was open very wide. The injured one couldn't open as large.

"Yes... I mean... no... I mean I'm... I'm fine." Jean wanted to run away, then thought about looking away but the girl might ask if she was all right again.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes... yes, I'm fine." Jean watched the girl's face turn as she straightened up. Her beautiful almond eyes glared at Ron.

Guys can be such jerks! She spoke curtly. "Would you like anything else?" She hoped her eyes were telling him what an ass she thought he was. He probably just broke up with her or said her boobs were too small or something. Guys could be such heartless jerks.

"Ahhh..." He wondered what got into the waitress. "No, we're finished."

The waitress's eyes and voice softened as she turned to the girl. "Would you like anything else?" The girl had her head bowed again.

Jean didn't look up. "No... um... no thank you."

She glared at the guy and placed the little check tray down. "I'll pick that up when you're ready." She abruptly walked away.

Ron realized the waitress had thought he had been an asshole to Jean, made her cry, sad, whatever. His jaw clenched. "Great. Now she thinks I'm a jerk."

"What?"

"You haven't gotten any creepy looks, but I just got one. She probably thinks I just.... I just told you I cheated on you or something."

"What are you talking about?"

"She thinks I made you cry."

She bowed her head again. Her voice was hurt and pouty, "You did."

Ron sighed. "Lift your head up."

"No... she... she stared at my... my eye. I told you it would happen."

"If she stared, she was staring at you crying. Jeezuz, Jean.... you...."

"What? I was right about tonight."

"Raise your head. If you don't... we're.... we're going to restaurants for the rest of... for... forever." He watched her pick up her glasses. "Without the fake glasses."

Jean started crying. She put the glasses on and stood up trembling. She turned towards the entry door. A group of eight people were walking in. She turned towards the short hall that led to the bathrooms. She bowed her head and her fingers raked her hair over the ugly side of her face as she started walking quickly. She held back on sobbing until she got into the small ladies room.

Ron saw the waitress watch Jean, then she looked at him with glaring eyes once again. Great... just great! He sipped his iced coffee and wondered if he was just wasting time and effort. He was almost angry at himself for caring about Jean. Maybe he should never have cared at all about her and just fucked her, fucked her like she was some crazy slut.

He frowned as he pulled out his wallet. He didn't know enough about girls, about anything really. Jean must have had some sort of psyche therapy about her eye and the accident. Why didn't that work? If she was okay with her first grade students, why not in a restaurant with strangers? Who cared if anyone looked when you were with someone who cared about you and didn't think the damn freak eye mattered at all, and the guy just wanted her to be normal, have a regular life not just get d***k and hide away? He knew he had screwed up again.

He put the money on the little tray. He looked around and saw their waitress. She still had a piercing stare as she started towards him and still had it as she stepped up to the table. "Listen... ahhh..." He took a deep breath.

She picked up the check tray. The guy looked nervous. She had seen it before when some guy was about to ask her out here in the restaurant. She'd enjoy turning him down. What a jerk! He makes his date cry and now he's going to ask me out?! What an asshole! He's just like my ex! Her voice was curt, "What?"

He was sure the girl thought he was a prick. "Listen, my friend, my... my date, she..."

She interrupted, "You mean the girl you got so upset she had to run to ladies' room to cry?"

"I... I really didn't do that." He wanted to tell the waitress she had actually done it. He knew he shouldn't, and he knew it had mostly been his fault anyway. He shouldn't have made her take the damn fake glasses off. He needed help.

"Well, it looked like you did. If not you, then who? Or... is she upset about something else?" The guy actually looked really concerned. Maybe she had misread the situation.

"The second and third thing."

"What do you mean?"

He glanced at the hall that led to the johns, then looked at the girl again. "She's self-conscious about... about the way she looks and... and I'm trying to get her to not be that way, and... and go out more. I... I tell her she looks fine, looks great, even... beautiful, because... because I think she does, but... but she doesn't believe me and... and thinks I'm lying, and..." He exhaled. "She..." He didn't know what else to say and why would this chick give a damn about any of it?

Maybe she really had read it all wrong. Her voice softened, "What?"

"She just said... well, sort of said that she wasn't going to go out anymore because... she... she thinks people stare at her... at her eye. She thought you were staring at her eye, you know, a few minutes ago." He quickly added, "I don't think you were. I... hell... I don't know why I'm even telling you all this, but... since you just saw it... saw it happen, I was wondering what... I was wondering if you had any suggestions, about... you know, what I could do or say." He took another quick breath. "Never... nevermind. I don't even know you and... and you don't know her. It's... it's stupid to talk to you about it." He blinked at the beautiful girl. It was the most he had spoken to a hot chick in his entire life, and he had because he was worried about another hot chick, Jean. He suddenly realized it wasn't any big deal talking to a pretty girl.

It seemed she had been totally wrong about the guy. Her mind raced. "She's... she is in the bathroom, right?" There was an alley door farther down the hall.

"Yeah." His gut tightened. He remembered an exit door at the end of the hallway. "I... I think so. Oh, jeezuz... do you think she..." He started to push his chair back.

She set the check tray back on the table and interrupted, "Stay here. I'll see. Be right back." She headed to the ladies room, although she really wasn't sure what to say to the girl. She knocked on the bathroom door.

Jean wiped her eyes again. "Just a second." She blew her nose, then put on her glasses. She unlocked the door, her head tilted downward, then she opened the door. Her stomach knotted. She saw the black pants and white blouse and knew it was their waitress without looking at her face. "Sorry. Excuse me."

"Are... you all right?"

"What? Yes. I'm fine." Jean stepped into the hallway and tried to move around the pretty girl but she moved too.

"I... I almost told your boyfriend off."

"What?" Without thinking Jean looked up.

"I thought... well, I wasn't like spying on you guys, but I could tell you were upset, and... I... I kinda thought he like just broke up with you or something. And I, you know, thought it was awfully stupid to do it in a restaurant. And... anyway, I was picking up the check and... then like I noticed he was upset too." She suddenly wondered if the guy had lied and his girlfriend was pregnant or something.

"Um... no... it... it wasn't that. Excuse me." Jean again tried to get around the girl, but she got in the way once more.

"Oh... well, that's cool. I... I thought, like before that, you guys looked like a great couple, cute guy, cute girl and... like I wasn't watching, but you know, when I brought water over and that kind of thing, you both seemed to be having a good time with each other, you know, like you two really fit together, until... you know, just now." She really hadn't watched them at all. "Anyway, like I'm glad you're not breaking up and... you know, I'm like sorry for butting in or whatever."

Jean's mind began racing. "Did... did he say why... why I started cr... got upset?"

"What? Oh... no, I... gawd, I think I told him it was really mean or something for breaking up with you in a restaurant, something like that, and... and then like I saw he was upset too, you know, like how a guy looks when they're upset?" She made sure she didn't stare at the disfigured eye socket of the girl. She looked older now than she did sitting at the table. The waitress rolled her eyes. "I'm such a dope sometimes, but... well, like I broke up with my boyfriend recently, maybe that's why I thought... well, like... whatever." She smiled. "But like... are you like okay now?"

"I... um... yes. I'm fine. Thanks."

The waitress grinned. "Thank god it wasn't the food. My uncle would be crying in the kitchen right now." She giggled softly. "That's what I thought it was at first, you know, too spicy for you or something."

Jean had a brief sensation of being transported back to her high school days before the accident. She felt herself smiling. "The food was great. Be sure to tell your uncle that."

The girl giggled again. "I will."

"What's your name?"

"Tami... well, that's, you know, like my nickname. What's yours?"

"Jean." She held out her hand. The girl shook it. "The food really was delicious. I... I bet we come back again."

"I think I've seen your boyfriend here before. I think he comes in with his dad every now and then."

"Uh-huh, he does. He told me that."

"Well... I better get back to work. Nice meeting you."

"Yes, you too." Jean smiled again, then as the girl turned, she realized she had completely forgotten about her facial disfigurement for a half minute.

Jean stood in the hall gathering her thoughts. Her stomach knotted tightly, her heart beat a little faster. She inhaled a slow breath, took off her horn rimmed glasses, folded them closed, held them in her palm, straightened her back, held her head level, then took another slow breath. Tami, at least for the most part, hadn't been staring at her ugly eye. Maybe, just maybe, Ron might be right. Tami had said they looked like the "right fit." Something like that. Jean realized that was exactly the way she felt with Ron during sex and a few times today, like they really did fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. It wasn't a perfect fit but they were still getting to know each other. She refused to think about why it would never be perfect. She needed him, needed to be with him. She took another slow breath, held her head level and started walking down the hall to the table. She told herself to only be concerned about Ron's eyes on her. No one else mattered.

They were both gasping breaths. She knew her skin was moist, and Ron was sweaty. She had her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed his cheek and pulled him down. She grinned. He kept getting better and better at making love, so was she. She had just had her second orgasm. First he licked her pussy to orgasm, then he made love tenderly to her, lovingly, slowly, with an underlying passion. They usually got wild, they both loved that too. She was so surprised that sex, making love, making lust, was even better without being d***k. "C'mon, Ron, lie down all the way on me."

He chuckled softly. He kissed her neck, then her temple by her injured eye. She was finally letting him do that without cringing. He pushed up higher with his elbows and grinned as he gazed into her pretty blue eyes. "Whenever I put all my weight on you, you always tell me I'm too heavy and you can't breathe."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah... you do."

"No, I don't. Go ahead. I want to feel all your weight on me."

Ron was tempted not only to lower his weight but push down. His grin grew.

Her eyes opened wider. "Don't push down, just lie down."

He laughed. She was getting to know him. He lowered his chest to hers. He loved feeling her nipples standing at attention against his chest. He slid his arms on the mattress forming a circle around her head. He kissed her temple again. He did like having all his weight on her.

Her brow pinched, then she kissed his neck. "Ron?"

He was stroking his face into her brunette hair. Flowers and sweet herbs. "Uh-huh?"

"Could you... um... get off me. I can't breathe." She started giggling.

He laughed. "You're k**ding right?"

"No." Her giggle turned into laughter. "I'm... not."

He raised his chest off her using his elbows again. "As soon as my cock slips out, why don't you lie on me." He gave her soft, perfect, medium lips, not too thin, not too thick, a warm kiss. During it, her felt her pussy and abdomen clench, and his softened cock popped out of her snug, slippery, pussy. They both burst out laughing into each other's mouth. Their faces separated. Ron gazed into her eyes, as his hands pushed under her shoulders followed by some of his forearms. His fingertips acted like combs as he moved her soft hair behind her ears. It was absolutely perfect being with her, in bed, out of bed, and now even out of the house. They had fun after leaving the restaurant. They went for ice cream instead of cappuccinos. They sat at the little tables outside, talking and watching people walking past on the sidewalk. She hadn't been worried about anyone looking at her. At least it had seemed that way to him. It was perfect being with her. He hoped it was the first day of the rest of her life not worrying about people staring at her scars.

He smiled softly. She mirrored it. He gave her face a half dozen soft kisses, then gazed into her sparkling eyes again. His voice was soft and low, "Jean, you're so beautiful."

Her smile vanished and moment later her face scrinched up. She seemed to shrink under him and then her face turned into his neck. "You... you didn't have... have to say that." She tried to hold it back, but she started crying softly.

He felt like an ass. Obviously she wasn't over it. It had been stupid for him to think she was. "Jean... I said that because... because it's true. I... I can see it, on... on the... the exterior of you and... and your inner beauty. Quit... quit crying... I meant it. I think it. I feel it. Look at me." He tried to move but she held him tighter with her arms. "Jean... look at me. C'mon."

"Why... why did you have to say that?" She swallowed and got her tears under control.

His voice was raspy, "Jean... Jean, you're choking me."

She loosened her arms. "Oh... Sorry."

"Jean, c'mon, look at me."

"I need... a tissue. I have to blow my nose."

He almost laughed. She had a way of interrupting him every time he was about to say something important. He knew he should stay quiet, but maybe he was always being too nervous and serious when she cried? He went with the way he was feeling, and he'd be himself. He half smiled. "Jeez... you're a real pain in the ass."

She slapped his shoulder lightly. "Shut up. I am not." She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And she knew she really was a huge pain.

He chuckled softly, then leaned to his side letting some of his weight on her and reached for a few tissues on the bedside table.

"Urrrhhh.... I can't breathe." She made a fist and lightly pounded his back. She felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster. The entire day had been like that. Again she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Ron started chuckling. He rolled off her and handed her the tissues. His laughter died away. "You know, I... I thought that was... not only the truth, but... maybe even a little romantic. I meant it, Jean. Please don't start crying again, but... I really do think you're beautiful, hot, and wonderful inside and outside."

Jean blew her nose. She didn't see Ron roll his eyes. She wiped her nose a couple times. She cleared her throat. "You... you don't have to say that, Ron." She put the used tissue on the bedside table. She could feel him turning on his side, she turned on her side too, facing him. She gave him a sad, maybe embarrassed, smile. She herself wasn't sure which it was.

He held his head in his palm on a folded arm. "I think you should shut up and just believe me."

"I think... I think you're a very handsome, sweet, hot, young man... and... and a great lover." She blushed.

His hand moved to her knee. He watched it slide up the outside contour of her thigh, to her hip, then her slender waist. His palm continued to the middle of her back and he leaned towards her. His other hand moved from his profile and went to hers. He kept turning towards her and Jean rolled onto her back. He kissed her lips warmly, then once again he gazed into her eyes. Her eyes began to sparkle once more. An intuitive voice in the back of his mind was shouting at him to keep quiet but he ignored it. "Jean... I lo..."

Jean's eyes grew wide, her hand quickly moved and she gently pressed two fingers against his lips to stop him from speaking. "Don't say that, Ron. We... we can't say that to each other."

His hand moved and held her wrist gently pulling her fingers from his face. "I want to say it. Why not? It's the way I feel. If that's..."

"Ssssh. We... we can't say that word. I... Ron, we... we both know this can't go on."

"I'm not thinking about how long. I'm thinking about right now. I'm thinking about how I feel. Why don't you want me to just say that I..."

Again Jean broke in, "Ron... " Her eyes welled yet again. "Please... just... just don't say it. All right?"

Ron frowned and turned onto his back. His arm rose over his head and lay on the pillow.

She thought she had made him angry. "May... may I put my head on your shoulder?"

All he had wanted to do was tell her what was in his heart. "Yeah, sure."

She moved over, still on her side, she stroked his chest with her hand. She was about to speak when he did first.

"Can I ask you something I've been wondering about that I should probably know but I don't?"

Jean tensed. "What... yes. What is it?"

"How old are you?"

She had been holding her breath. She exhaled as she relaxed. "I'm thirty."

"So... so like Dad was... like... eleven when you were born?"

"Mmmm... yes, or... maybe he was twelve. No. He was eleven. Why?"

"I... I was just wondering."

"Did you think I was older?"

Ron finally smiled. "No. I... I thought you were, a lot younger, but... then that didn't make sense with... you know, Dad being in his forties."

"Are... are you saying... um... I act immature?" She wasn't sure if it was a jokey or real question. She held her breath waiting for his answer.

He almost laughed. She had been acting like a weird chick until today. His brow pinched. Was it too early to feel what he was feeling for her? Had it been creeping up on him for the past couple weeks? What was he really feeling towards her? "No. I... I guess I don't think about age with you."

"I... I guess that's good."

"Could... could I ask you something personal?"

She tensed again. She knew he was going to ask something about the accident. People she let in, usually got to it sooner or later. "Is... Is it about... about what happened to me? The... car accident?"

"Huh? No, uh..."

"Go ahead and ask."

"If... if you don't want to answer, you... well... don't."

Jean was still tensed. "All right... ask." She was sure it had something to do with her disfigurement or scars. She wished he wasn't going to ask. There'd been moments, minutes, even hours with him when she had completely forgotten about it.

"Okay... ahhh... how many guys have you had sex with?"

Jean both giggled and started crying. She felt his arm around her back hug her closer.

"Jean, forget I asked. Sorry. Please... ahhh.. don't cry I'm sor..."

She patted his chest. "No... I'm not really crying." She then wiped her eyes. The tears had been a release of tension about his question. He had surprised her again. "I... I don't know if... if I should answer."

His heart sank. Maybe she was totally different when she was in her own house, town, job. "Was... have there been... a...." He exhaled. He couldn't ask her. It would be as if he was asking her if she was a slut.

"There's been one recently and one a long time ago."

His heart sank even lower. "Are... are you still seeing him? The recent one?"

"Yes. He's you." She wasn't sure she should have told him. She thought it might worry him in some way.

"You mean... I'm the first in a... ahhh."

"You're the first in a very long time, Ron. Don't... um... don't get worried about that." She didn't know what else to say or if it would really matter to him.

"God... Jean... I..." He was surprised, then he wasn't surprised at all.

"I... I never thought making love, and... and how intense we've been... I mean, you're a great lover, Ron. I... I never thought it would be this good."

"You're the great lover, not me."

"You're wonderful, Ron, you know you are. And... and you're a wonderful young man, a... a good young man."

"Why do you always have to say 'young.' You're only twelve years older than me."

"Well, because... I don't know, because you're not as old as Frank, I guess."

"Jean... I know I have a lot to... to learn, I'm... I know that."

"It... it seems I've got a lot to learn too."


"I hope... Jean, I... I wasn't being mean tonight. I was... was trying to show you something."

"I know."

He half smiled. "And I was right."

"It's very... very hard for me, Ron."

"It'll get easier with the different things we do this summer, like... well... the party next week, actually more like tens days."

Her entire body tensed. "Party? I... I can't go to a party with you... I... I can't do that, Ron."

He exhaled. "Jean, I proved to you tonight that you can do it. It's just like..."

"Ron! I'm... I'm... I'm your aunt. I can't... we can't go... go on a date to a party!"

He chuckled. "Yeah... well, it's Josh's parents' throwing their yearly 'mid summer' party. Parents... well, they come too, and... so, that means you're going, and... we're going to the mall again. You need a bathing suit, it's a pool party."

"What?! No... Ron, I... I can't. A... a restaurant is one thing, but... I can't go to a party... and... and I can't go swimming, I... I can't do that."

He knew what she meant but he said, "That's no problem, stay in the shallow end if you can't swim."

"That's not what I mean. I... I can't."

"I'm thinking like... maybe an orange bikini, although with your pretty blue eyes... would like light blue be better? Maybe like burgundy? To be different than your eyes? I bet a burgundy would look good with your hair."

"I... I'm not going, Ron. I can't."

"Yes, you are. How late do you think we'll sl**p? I like the mornings at the mall otherwise it seems the whole day is shot, but... ahhh... I guess it doesn't matter."

"I'm... I'm not going there either."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm..."

He interrupted, "Turn on your tummy, right now." He held his breath waiting to see if his slightly demanding, yet not mean, tone of voice would still work on Jean.

She felt scared. Things were going too fast. She hadn't shopped in a mall since high school. She hadn't eaten in a restaurant unless it was with a large group where she could be lost in the group and that was only three times. She hadn't been swimming or at a private party for twelve years. Yet so far, with Ron it hadn't been awful. If she had been less nervous tonight it might have been even more fun. Looking back over the evenng, she had enjoyed dinner out for the most part. And now they were making love without drinking and it was beyond wonderful. She rolled onto her tummy. Her mind was reeling. Fear and excitement about so much swirled within her. For some reason her pussy clenched. She felt another tingle.

His hand coursed around her seductive bottom. "Now... do you want a spanking? Or..." He smiled slightly feeling and seeing her buns clench. "... do you want to feel my tongue, then my cock playing around back here." He shoved lower on the bed, he planted a couple moist kisses on her left bun, then his fingers tapped her right cheek. "Hmmm? Spanked because you're being bad about going to the mall and a party? Or my tongue then cock because you're going to be a good girl about it all?" He prayed she'd want his cock this time.

"Tell me... more about the party first..." She felt his tongue drawing wet lines on her bottom. "You... mmh... Ron... Ron? You're driving me crazy with that. We ne... I want to tal..." She felt his tongue slide between her buns. "Mmmhhh."

*


The pleasure was overwhelming any discomfort she had. He had been so slow, attentive, and tender with it so far. She felt the entire length of his lubricated, slippery cock slowly slide passed her hugging anus and probe deep into her rectum. It felt so loving, so hot, so erotic, yet so naughty and weird too. She felt so full of him, even moreso than when he filled her pussy, maybe not more, but filled in a different way. His finger was playing with her clit so wonderfully too. She was taking ragged breaths. "Oh... oh Ron... oh gahhhhd."

He closed his eyes as his throbbing rod finally sunk into her all the way. He knew he'd not be able to last much longer, it just felt too hot, too good. "You like it... my cock... my cock in your hot ass?"

"Yes... oh god... yessss." He had teased her with his tongue on her hot little hole first. He was so good to her, so good. That's what he had called it tonight, her 'hot little hole.'

"It... it doesn't hurt?" His hips swayed, he was still buried to the hilt. Her torrid asshole was gripping tightly around the base of his cock.

"No... it's good... it feels good... naughty... but... but good." She closed her eyes and giggled softly at the incongruity of her words. "Oh god, Ron... this is... this so hot and.... and so intimate." She really did feel the intimacy of it.

"I know... jeez, Jean... this feels... so.... so good." He started sliding back slowly. "I'm... I can't last much longer, it... it... it's just too good."

"That's... that's okay, honey." She shivered from both his sliding cock and his fingers expertly rubbing her shivering clit. "I... I may... peak too. I... I want to feel you cumming in my bottom."

He smiled as he gasped breaths. "Yeah, me too, but... but I wanna last longer too." When just the head was left inside her heat, he slowly pushed back in. Her anus was incredibly tight and hot around his sliding, throbbing cock.

She half grunted, half moaned, "Ohhhh.... oh gahhhd."

He stopped. "Dammit... am I hurting you?"

"No... no, don't stop."

He pushed in all the way, swayed his hips for a few seconds then slowly drew his rod back. When he felt the ridge of the helmet at her sphincter, he pushed in again. This time, Jean pushed back with her ass to meet him. "Oh... jeezuz... Jean... this feels... so good... urrrrh.... Dammit!" Without thinking he shoved the last half of his pulsing cock in all the way. "Arrrh... Jean!" His cock started pumping. He couldn't stop himself from continuing to push and grind his groin really hard against her luscious buns, swaying his prick deep in her ass as it spurted his hot seed.

"Oh god! I feel it! Oh... Oh!" She shoved her hand under her to urge Ron's fingers to restart their rubbing. They had stopped when he started grunting. As she felt the last three surges of his thick cock spewing heat into her bottom, his fingers started moving and a moment later, she peaked too. Oh-h-h-h-h.... OH RON!" Her body started convulsing in freeing, wonderful, erotic delight.

* * *


Chapter 7

It was a few minutes after nine in the morning when Ron rang the doorbell. He had arrived early on purpose.

Mrs. Thompson opened the front door. "Hi, Ron." She smiled. "Come in. I think Josh is still taking a shower."

"Hi, Mrs. T." He stepped into the foyer.

She closed the door. "You can go up if you want. Or... would you like something to eat or drink? We have some croissants."

"Ahh... uh... maybe some juice?"

"Okay. Come on." She led the way to the open kitchen area.

Ron checked out her long toned and tanned legs, then her swaying ass and realized again that Mr. Thompson was a pretty lucky guy. He remembered her in her bikini at last year's 'mid summer' party. His cock twitched.

Mrs. Thompson stopped at the refrigerator and turned her face to her son's handsome friend. "We have orange or apple juice."

"Ahh... orange, please."

"Take a stool at the island. Want a large glass?"

"No, small is fine." Josh's mother was not only very pretty but sort of classy too. He was sure she'd know, which was why he had arrived early.

Mrs. Thompson smiled. "Here you are." She set the juice on the counter in front of him.

"Thank you. Ahh... Mrs. T, could I ask you a... well, it's a..." His mind seemed to go blank. "... a... a girl question, I guess."

Mrs. Thompson blinked. "A... a sex question?"

"Huh? No... ahh... nothing like that. I meant..." He exhaled. Jeezuz. She thought he was going to ask a sex question!

"Just ask, Ron. What is it?" She knew his father was out of town for the summer again, and that his aunt was a little peculiar, at least that's what she had heard from her son.

"It's... it's about, makeovers... ahh... you know, like a girl... a woman going to a... a spa and... and getting a makeover, a... a new hairstyle, that kind of thing. There used to be a commercial on TV a while back, but... well, I mean... do you know what I mean?"

She smiled. "Yes, I know what you're talking about. What... what exactly do you want to know?"

"Do the... haircutters... hairstylists, I mean, if it's a makeover, do they... you know, do they talk about the haircut... the hairstyle with the gir... woman, you know, make suggestions and... and that kind of thing?"

"Mmm... yes, unless the woman has some specific style in mind, I guess."

"Well... I mean, if it's at a spa, wouldn't they... you know, the hairstylist, really... really look at the girl and make suggestions about the style that would look best on her, even if she did have something in mind?"

"I... maybe, yes, I guess the stylist might."

"And... and what else is in a makeover?"

"I would imagine, depending on the spa, or salon, there might be... it might include a manicure, pedicure, sometimes various facial treatments, cometics consulation, and... possibly... if it's a spa, maybe... massages, even mud baths, and the like."

"Do you... um, kinda know how much a makeover at a spa would cost?"

"Mmm... maybe between... oh... $250 at the low end, up to... without getting too extravagant, maybe $600."

Ron's eyes grew large. "That much?"

Betty Thompson grinned. "Beauty isn't cheap, Ron." Her smile stayed in place but her brow pinched. "Why... why do you want to know all this?"

He had this part planned out. "Well... Jean's... my Aunt Jean's birthday is coming up, and I remembered that commercial I'd seen before about the spa, the... the hairstyling, and... some of that other stuff, and the... the commercial said it made a great gift."

"Oh... uh-huh, I recall that commercial. I think... I think there's one of their spas near the Oak Brook Center."

"Do you think it would be a nice birthday gift?"

"Mmm... yes. Most everyone likes to feel pampered once in a while."

"There... there'd probably be... like different plans? Wouldn't there? You know, different things included in various makeovers? Right? So... different prices?"

Betty Thompson smiled again. "Yes, probably."

"If I call and... and then write down what's in each... plan... option, whatever they call it, would... I mean, could you explain what it is, you know, the items on the..."

Mrs. Thompson grinned and interrupted, "Why don't we call right now? We'll put it on speaker phone, you can talk and if I think of any good questions that you don't, then I'll ask."

Ron smiled. "Mrs. T, that'd be great."

"Just tell them you're thinking of giving it as a gift, and have them explain everything that's included with... with each plan."

*


The traffic was heavy for some reason. He figured there was road repairs up ahead. He looked at the dashboard clock. There was still plenty of time.

"Why won't you tell me where we're going, and... and why did you tell me to wear this... this new dress?"

"Well... you look awesome in that dress." He had probably sounded like an idiot, but he had even asked Mrs. Thompson what a woman would wear to the spa, explaining he wanted it to be a surprise and just take Jean there without her knowing where they were going, so he had to tell her what to wear, so she wouldn't feel weird showing up wearing something that would be dumb to wear to a spa. He now realized he had probably prodded Mrs. T to say a little dress like Jean was wearing would be appropriate. He had wanted to see Jean in it. It was one of the mini dresses he had gotten her. He had really been putting a dent in his college savings but it was all too much fun for him to care and it was for Jean.

"Where are we going?" She saw him smile but he didn't even glance at her. They had already gone clothes shopping three times. "Are we going to the mall again? Ron... I really don't need any more new clothes, and... and we better not be going back to look at bikinis again. I'm never going to wear any thong bikini... ever."

Ron grinned then chuckled. "Man... you would look so hot in one of those."

"Just... just tell me where we're going."

"All right. We're... we're going to your birthday present."

"My birthday present? My birthday isn't until December."

"I guess that means your early birthday gift."

They were headed to the mall, she guessed that much. She wondered what the surprise was going to be, or if it was just going to be another f***ed shopping trip. She had gotten everything he wanted. He had spent his money which she was going to reimburse him for, write a check as an additional birthday or Christmas gift, or most likely as an 'off to college' gift. They turned onto the highway along the vast parking lot of the mall. She gazed at the buildings trying to guess if he had one of the large anchor stores in mind, then instead of turning right, he turned left into a shopping and professional building strip across from the mall proper. "What's over here?" She looked at him, again he didn't face her and just smiled.

Ron had made a dry run the previous day. He pulled around to the rear of the high rise office building into an area with more shops. He parked. "We're here." He shut off the engine, removed his seat belt, and opened his door. "Come on."

She glanced at the boutiques. "Ron, I really don't need anymore clothes." She exhaled sharply and got out of the car. Ron wanted to take her hand. "I.... I don't know if we should hold hands in pub..."

He interrupted, "We will now though." He took her hand. He didn't think they'd see anyone who knew them and if they did, holding hands wasn't that big of a deal. He was taking her to her surprise "birthday present." He'd hold her hand for that.

They stepped onto the sidewalk and Jean wondered what clothes he had in mind. She only saw a couple clothing shops down the walkway. He suddenly pulled her to the side towards the double glass doors of a separate building. He opened one. She stepped into the foyer, not noticing the writing on the door. "What's this place?" She pulled off her sun glasses.

"Your birthday present." He grinned.

*


He had told Jean to call his cell when she was finished. After Jean had gone through the doors to the spa area Ron had asked the receptionist how long the makeover might take, so when Jean called, he was already sitting in his car outside the building. He told her to just walk outside and he'd magically appear. He grabbed the long stemmed rose he had bought before driving back and jogged to the doors of the spa. He grinned when Jean came around the corner and turned towards him. He opened the door for her. He gazed at her hairstyle and his grin grew. She totally looked like a college babe now.

Her eyes teared. "Are... are you laughing at it?"

"What?" His grin shrank and his brow pinched as he looked into her eyes.

"Are... are you laughing at my hair? Does... does it look awful? Does... does it... I mean... can you notice... um..." She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse, and opened them.

"Hey... don't put those on yet. Jean... you... you looked awesome before today, and now you look..." He grinned again. "Awesom-er. The haircut.. hairstyle looks great on you." He shook his head. "Jeezuz."

Jean tensed again. "What?"

"No one is going to believe you're my aunt. You... and this is the truth, Jean, you look, like I've said a few times, you look like some college chi... girl."

She started to relax. "So... so my hair is... is all right?"

He gave her the rose and then kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful. Happy birthday, Jean."

Her eyes welled up. Her face scrinched. "Why... why are you... doing all this?"

"You... you told me not to tell you."

"What?" She sniffled, then opened her purse, put her sunglasses in and took out some tissues. She wiped her eyes and nose. "What?"

Ron put his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go to the car." He looked both ways and stepped off the curb.

"You... you really think I look okay with this cut?"

"Jean, when I say you look great, or hot, or beautiful, I mean it every time I say it. So, yeah, the do looks great on you."

"I... I never had any of that done before, I mean not like today. I... I was... was glad you didn't tell me about it, because... I... I would have been so nervous." She started crying softly.

Ron was totally confused. He stopped and put his arms around her. It was the only thing he could think of to do. It seemed she liked the spa from what she was saying but the crying didn't make sense if she liked it. He kissed her temple.

"Ron..." She sniffled. "We can't do this out in the open like this."

"Jean, we're just hugging. So... are you... like upset? I... I meant it as a surprise, as... as a surprise gift... I... I thought you'd like it. I... I even asked Mrs. T... Thompson if it was a good birthday gift for..."

Jean tensed and interrupted, "You... you talked to Mrs. Thompson about it?"

"Yeah, a little."

Jean pushed away. "What... what did you talk to her about?"

"I asked her if it'd be a nice gift for your birthday. I... I asked about what it was, you know, a spa day, a spa..." He didn't want to say 'makeover.' "You know, a haircut, a... a manicure, all that stuff. She helped explain the stuff I didn't know about, like... like the color coordinator, you know the..."

"The fashion color coordinator consultation."

She had stopped crying so he chanced a small smile. "Yeah... yeah, that thing."

Her eyes teared more. "Did... did you do this... thinking... thinking it would make me... feel better about... about the way I look?" A tear ran down her face.

He didn't know what to say. Maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that, but the main reason was that he thought she'd look hotter with a different hairdo. She had very nice hair but it looked like she just put waves in it as an afterthought since she stopped wearing it in that stupid half-assed pony tail after he had asked her to stop doing that. It would have looked better just straight. It looked great, all sexy and mused up when they screwed but she couldn't have it like that all the time. He recalled the word Mrs. T had used. "I... I thought you'd enjoy being pampered for a few hours. I... I thought you'd like it."

"It... it was very nice. I... I did like it." She started crying softly again and let Ron hug her close. "I know I shouldn't... be... crying but... but I can't help it. You've been so sweet. Thank you, Ron... thank you so much. It was a wonderful gift."

"So... so that means you... you liked it?"

She giggled and cried. "Y-y-yes!" She thought about the hairstylist. He had been so gay, yet so up front and frank about her disfigurement, that it hadn't upset her, it was almost like being with one of the numerous doctors and surgeons she had seen over the years. He told her they should ignore it, and go with the shape of her face to determine the cut that would look best on her. He had complimented the quality of her hair and asked what products she used. She had been embarrassed when she told him she used whatever shampoo and conditioner she found on sale. She was glad the somewhat layered style they decided on, could hide her eye socket some and not have it seem odd that it did. It was also nice she wasn't going to have to use a curling iron on it.

* * *


Chapter 8

Jean's jaw was clenched. She was standing in her bedroom by her bed strewn with a half dozen garments. She was barefoot, wearing white panties from the half dozen Ron had picked out at Victoria's Secret, and a white cotton, wide strapped tank top. Her arms were folded across her chest. She was glaring at Ron. "I want to wear the beige shorts with this top!"

"No! Why do you always want to dress like an old lady? Those are just like your stupid baggy blue jean shorts!"

"No they aren't like my blue jean shorts!" She pointed at them. "These are pleated cotton shorts! Women wear them to... to barbecues and... and pool parties!"

"Yeah, old ladies wear those! You look like a college girl! College girls wear stuff like that light blue tank dress!"

"I told you, I'm not wearing that! And I'm not a college girl!"

"Well, you're not an old lady either!"

"Those aren't old lady shorts! You even said they looked good on me when we bought them! And... and college girls wear them too!"

He wondered why they were shouting. He lowered his volume, "Okay... wear that top but... but put on the white mini skirt."

"I can't wear a white skirt with a white top, you idiot!"

"Is that your bikini top under your shirt?"

"No, it's a bra!"

"Take that off! You look better without it!"

"NO! I'm not... I'm not not wearing a bra!"

His intense expression started to soften, then he smiled. "What the hell did you just say? You're not-not what?!" He started laughing. "Does that mean you ARE going to wear it, or NOT going to wear one?!" He laughed harder.

"It means... It means..." She exhaled sharply, then a smile started forming on her lips. "It means SHUT UP!" She pushed him onto the bed and then climbed on top of him, straddling him with knees, then lowering her butt onto crotch. She leaned forward, grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed. "Shut up. Quit arguing with me."

"I would if you'd stop being so dumb." He chuckled but stopped quickly. Her eyes welled slightly. His voice softened, "Jean, really. I think... wearing a skirt, you'd... okay, you're not a college girl, but you look like you are, and you're not as old as Mrs. Thompson, or... any of the parents. I'd... I'd really like to see you again in one of the skirts I got you. I... I think even... you know, some of the moms there might have a short skirt on, really, and... and you look good in... I mean the skirt looks good on you."

"Ron... it's... it's not really the clothes I'm... I'm worried about."

His brow pinched. He wondered if she was concerned he was going to act like she was his girlfriend in front of everyone. They had gone over all that. "Is it... is it me you're worried about?"

"Huh? No. I... I'm nervous because... because I haven't... haven't been to a party, at least not a party like this, in a... in a really long time."

"Jean, we've... we've talked some... I mean are you worried, about... ahh... your..."

"My... my eye?"

"Yeah. Jean I really don't think that it's..."

She interrupted, "Yes, I am worried about... about that, but... I'm worried about just... just being at the party."

"I don't know what all the parents are like, but... Mrs. T is cool, and... listen, I'll just stick with you the whole time. I mean, you're the one I want to be with anyway."

Jean was tempted to tell him if that was true then why didn't they just stay home. She owed it to him to go, to act normal. She was scared she'd not be able to. She knew people would stare. "No... you... you can't do that, it... it wouldn't look right. We talked about that."

"Jean?"

"What?"

"You're making my cock get hard and it's difficult for me to think about anything other than being inside you right now."

She wiggled her hips. Her pussy was pressing right against his burgeoning cock. She was so nervous about the party that she surprisingly wasn't feeling any tingling. "Do... why don't we..." Her eyes welled more.

"What?"

"Nothing. I... I was going to say... maybe we should just stay home and... and we could have our own party, but... but you want to go and it'd be rude to... to the Thompson's not to go."

Ron twisted his hands and got them out from her light grip. His palms caressed her hips.

"I'm... nervous about being around so many people because... because it's a party, and... and I am worried about... about wearing... um..."

"Jean, really, a top like you have on and a... one of those skirts look great on you. I really have seen some of the moms wearing that sort of thing and... and you're young. It fits... I mean your age and the clothes."

"Can... can we compromise?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll wear the... blue skirt, but... but I... I won't go into the pool. I won't bring my bathing suit."

His jaw clenched. "Why not? You've worn that a half dozen times. You... you were only weird about it the first time. It's not that... that skimpy."

"I've only worn it here with you at our pool. There wasn't... anyone else around."

His brow pinched again. That didn't have anything to do with her head injury. It dawned on him. "You're... Jean, you're not one of those girls who think they're fat when they're not, are you?"

"What?" Her brow pinched.

"You don't look fat in that bikini at all."

"No, it's... it's my scars." Her eyes welled again.

He gazed at her bad eye again, then he blinked and looked at her shoulder scar. "You mean..."

"All the ones on my body... my chest and abdomen."

"Jean, those don't..." He stopped talking. He had almost said 'those don't count' or something equally stupid. What seemed insignificant to him might seem like hideous scars to her. He thought if she had the guts to actually look at people without her old fake glasses on, or with her new sun glasses on, that the scars on her torso were nothing compared to her eye. But, he also realized that the new sort of wrap around sun glasses hid her eye injury even better than the fake glasses. She did well though, talking to people, taking the sun glasses off at first at least, making eye contact then put them back on. She never wore them in restaurants. His dad had told him it was rude to meet and talk to someone with sun glasses on, at least really dark sun glasses. He said it was important to make eye contact.

Jean was trying to control her tears and anxiety.

He took a slow breath. "Jean, I... I hope this doesn't make me sound like a... a jerk, um..."

"What?"

"You've... you've gotten a light tan, and... you may think those scars are really noticeable, but... they're really not."

"Yes, they are."

"I... I thought since the... you know that night at the Thai place, that... that you were going to stop thinking about what other people thought."

"I'm... I'm trying, but... but I don't want anyone asking... asking me about anything. I... I don't want to talk about it." She started trembling. She quickly wiped her eyes.

Ron realized there was a part of him that wanted Jean to go to the party so he could show her off, as if she was his girlfriend and his sexual conquest, and maybe even his little project, how he had changed her in just a few weeks. He felt like a jerk about that, then again, he really did think he was helping her. She had changed not only with him at home, but she didn't freak going into restaurants or stores anymore. She hadn't run out of the spa when she found out about it. He tried to think fast. "Jean... do... would you ask someone? About how someone got scars?" He realized if he was all scarred up, he'd probably really enjoy talking about it to whoever wanted to listen. Maybe guys were different.

"No, but..."

"What?"

"But someone might. It's... it's happened before. I... I don't want to talk about it. I... I don't want to be stared at."

He almost laughed and tried to stop the smile but it started to show.

Her face scrinched up. "Don't laugh at me!" She couldn't believe he was. She started to back off him, but he quickly sat up and put his arms around her. "Let me go." She tried to twist free.

"I'm not laughing at you, but..." He chuckled softly. The whole situation struck him as being hilarious.

She started crying. Ron was laughing at her. "Let me go!"

He held her tighter. "I'm... I'm not laughing about what you think I am. Listen... listen to me! You don't understand!"

"No! Let me go!"

He had to wrestle her around and down onto the bed. He was now holding her arms pinned to the mattress. "Yes, you're going to get stares, but..."

"You lied to me then! You said... you said people wouldn't! I.. don't want to go! I'm not going!"

"God... how could you be so damn stupid?!"

"You don't understand! You... you don't know what it's like! Restaurants... restaurants and stores are one thing, but... but a party is different! I don't want to go!"

"Would you just shut up and relax?! Jeezuz! Yeah, some people may stare, the... the guys'll probably stare... even if you wear the stupid mom shorts, but it..."

She interrupted, "You said no one would! You lied to me! I don't want..."

"SHUT UP! They're not going to be looking at your scars! They'll... they'll be looking at your body! Your hot body! God... you're so stupid!" He shut his eyes for moment and cooled down. "I'm sorry, I... didn't mean to call you stupid, but... jeezuz, come on, Jean, you... you never really see yourself. You... you look in the mirror and... and you only see... you only see your... your..."

"My ugly eye! My ugly scars!" Her face scrinched up and she started crying harder. She stopped trying to get away.

Ron took his hands off her arms. He moved off her to get the box of tissues. He had pushed her too much. It was going too fast for her. She rolled onto her side and hugged a pillow to herself and kept crying. He had fucked up again. He shouldn't have bitched about the pleated shorts. He was trying to show her off. He was an asshole. He wanted other guys to see how hot she was even though he'd never be able to tell anyone he had screwed her. He was a huge asshole. He grabbed a bunch of tissues. He lay next to her and reached over her to hand her the tissues. She pulled her body slightly away from him when his chest touch her back. "Here, take these." Her hand pulled the tissues from his.

He waited until her crying subsided, then spoke softly, "Jean, please listen and don't interrupt me, okay?" He waited for a couple moments then frowned when she didn't respond. "Okay, maybe... maybe some people will... will look at your scars, but... what I meant just now, is that it's more likely, the... well, at the least the guys, the guys my age, and... and hell... actually, the older guys too, in other words, all the guys will..." He exhaled. "They'll... they'll probably, you know, they'll all probably... check you out, you know, elevator eye you. I know I would if I didn't know you and you showed up at a party. Hell... I check you out every day here. You're..."

He exhaled again. "You're hot, you've... you've got a great bod and... and even in the mom shorts, you... you still look hot. I... I didn't mean to... to be a jerk, but... it... not your feelings, but... it was a little funny to me that you thought, I mean, that you didn't know guys would be looking because... because you know, you're pretty and have a great bod, and... and now that I think about it, I guess... I guess I don't want guys checking you out. Maybe... maybe I... even though no one would know, maybe... maybe I wanted to be with you, you know, as... as sort of my date, even though no one would know, except you and me. I've... I've never been out with... with a smart, nice and... pretty girl at a party. It's... that was stupid of me. I'm sorry. I... I think... I think maybe we should just skip the dumb party."

Jean wiped her nose. "Ron... I'm... I'm not stupid. I... I know you've been trying to... to help me, you're... you're trying to... to get me to ignore what... what other people think, and... and you have helped me, but... but... you don't have to lie to me. I... I know what I look like. I... I guess I pretend with you that I... that I look different because... because..." She started crying softly again and tried to get it under control.

He put his arm around her and spooned her. "I'm not lying. I... I don't know how else to say this, and I... I know it sounds like... like... like I'm not thinking about... about all of you, you know who you are inside, but I do, I really do think about that too, it's part of it for me, it's half the reason I think you're beautiful, but... but if you don't believe what I say when I tell you you're beautiful and... and hot, well... how could I... you know, be getting hard-ons about you if I was lying. You're... you're beautiful, you're sexy. If you weren't I... I wouldn't be getting erections. So... if you don't believe what I say, then... then you should believe my dick. And... okay, maybe I'm trying to... in a way, help you, but... I want to be with you because I like being with you, because... because of... of what you said I shouldn't tell you. I... I don't want to make you cry, get sad or... or get really nervous. I just think that... that you're not seeing things right... clearly, however I should say it. I... I haven't meant to hurt you in any way. I'm sorry. Let's... let's skip the party. I'll call Josh and tell him... tell him something came up." He kissed her shoulder and then slid off the bed. He started towards his room.

Jean rolled onto her back. "Ron, you go. You should go. Maybe... maybe you'll meet some nice, pretty girl there."

His jaw clenched. He spun around. He didn't know his eyes were glaring. "I don't want to meet any girl. I wanted to go with you. I'll call Josh and tell him we're not coming." He turned around and headed to his room to get his cell. Just as he was stepping into his room he heard Jean come out to the hallway.

She stood outside her door. "Don't call!" Ron turned around, his eyes met hers. "We'll... we'll go."

"Jean, look, you don't wa..."

She interrupted as she walked towards him, "We're going. I... I want to go now." She walked up to him and put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "You're... you're right. I'm... I'm thinking too much about... about what other people think. I... I said I'd go, and... and I want to, but... but we... you know, we... we can't look like... like we're out on a date, but... I want to go now. I really do." She didn't want to at all, but she didn't want to disappoint him either.

*


Jean looked at the Thompson house as she kept telling herself it was going to be just like a parent-teacher conference. She had gotten used to doing those, she had to. She could do this too. Ron took her hand and she knew she should tell him to let go but she gripped it. Her other hand checked the hem of her light blue mini skirt and tugged it down a little.

"You're skirt looks fine, Jean."

She should have worn her pleated shorts. She had called Mrs. Thompson, Betty, a few days ago, asking what she should bring, what food item. Betty said to just bring her bathing suit. Jean had gotten a bottle of wine that Ron was holding. She heard about it on the radio, it as supposed to be good. She loosened her hand. She whispered, "You... you shouldn't be holding my hand."

He sighed. "Okay." He gave her hand a squeeze then released it. They started up the couple steps to the entry porch. "Think you should take off your sunglasses?"

"Um... umm... yes... I will." Her heart raced. "In... inside." She saw Ron reach for the door handle. "Shouldn't we ring the bell?"

"Nah. For parties like this, I usually just walk in. Everyone's probably out back."

"Are... are you sure?"

"Yeah. Jean... relax."

"I... I'm trying." She checked the hem of her skirt again.

"Your skirt is fine. You look awesome." He opened the door and let Jean walk in first. They heard music from the patio. A girl in a bikini was walking into the foyer, probably to use the powder room. She gave Jean a long look then her eyes turned to Ron.

"Hi, Ron." She look at the girl again.

"Hey, Cindy. Everyone out back?"

"Uh-huh." Her eyes went to Ron. "Yeah, everyone." As they passed her, Cindy again checked out the girl he was with. She wondered if she was from south high, or maybe a college girl? Ron was good looking but he was so shy. She bet he wasn't shy with that girl. Her stomach tensed. She had a chance with him herself a month or so ago. She suddenly wondered if she had made a big mistake. She stepped into the bathroom.

Jean whispered, "She... she was cute."

"Yeah... I guess." Ron wondered if he should have introduced Jean to Cindy but at the moment his only real concern was Jean's nervousness regarding meeting the Thompsons. He saw Mr. T in the open kitchen area. He spoke very softly, "Ahh... the glasses, Jean?" He headed towards Mr. Thompson.

Jean tensed, but pulled her sunglasses off, she shook her head so her hair laid a little closer to her ugly eye and curved over her disfigured cheekbone.

"Hey, Mr. T." Josh's dad was getting a bag of ice from the freezer. He was wearing a yellow golf shirt and tan pleated shorts.

"Hey... Ron, good to see ya." He looked at the girl Ron was with. His smile grew. He wanted to say something like Way to go, man! but he didn't want to embarrass the k** or his date. He put the bag of ice on the island counter then extended his hand to his son's friend. He shook it firmly as did the k**. Bill's eyes were on the girl though. "So... who's this you're with?"

"Yeah, uh... Mr. Thompson, this is Jean Mazur. Jean this is Josh's dad, Mr. Thompson."

Bill grinned as he extended his hand again and she took it. "Hi, Jean. Ron didn't say he'd be bringing a da..." His brow pinched. "Ahh... sorry, did Ron say your last name's Mazur?"

"Yes. I'm Ron's aunt."

His eyes grew wide for a moment. "Oh... I... uh... well..." He smiled again. "Of course you are, and it's Bill, I mean, I'm Bill." He glanced at her right eye for a moment. He remembered now. "I'm glad you're here, it's really good to meet you." He realized he was still holding the young woman's hand. He somewhat reluctantly let it go.

"Ahh... this is from us." Ron handed the bottle of wine to Mr. T.

"Oh... thanks, that's nice." He looked at the label wondering if he shouldn't. It was a decent bottle of wine, that brand that was inexpensive but was supposed to be very good. He had heard about it on NPR. "Thanks, good choice." He looked at the pretty girl... woman. "What can I get you, Jean? We've got wine opened outside already, so... we'll save this if that's all right. There's lemonade, sodas, and beer out there too; and I'm bartending, making cocktails. Just name it, and..." He grinned. "I'll get my bartender's book out if I have to."

"I... I'll just have some... some wine or a soft drink outside."

"All right." He put the bottle of wine on the wall counter, then picked up the ice. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Betty." He walked behind the young woman and Ron. He checked out her ass and legs, then blurted, "I hope you brought your swim suit." He cringed wondering if it sounded a bit too eager.

"I... I left it in the car. I... I may not swim."

"Oh... you'll... you'll have to. We... we usually get the k**s out later so the adults can have it for a while." She really had a hot little body. He wanted a better look.

Ron got along well with both Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. They made him feel at home. "Hey, Mr. T, you said a couple weeks ago, Josh and I weren't k**s anymore."

Bill grinned as he stepped to the side of Jean to pull the sliding patio door open. He glanced at her tits, small but nice looking. They fit her petite slender figure. "Yeah... I guess you're right. Okay... you can be in the pool with the adults."

They walked towards the refreshment table. Ron almost laughed. Mrs. Thompson was wearing a multi-color print halter top and a short white wrap around skirt. He wanted to elbow Jean, point at Mrs. T and say, See! See! I was right!

Bill walked up behind his wife as he set the large bag of ice on the table. "Honey? Got someone new for you to meet."

Betty Thompson turned around. "Ron! Hi." She gave him a little hug and smiled at the girl he was with, then she glanced towards the house. There wasn't any woman following them. She looked at the girl again and noticed the squinting eye and scar, her hair somewhat hiding her cheekbone. She pulled back from Ron. She kept smiling at the girl, woman if it was his aunt. Betty propped her sunglasses on top of her head. "Hi."

"Jean, this is my wife, Betty. Betty this is Jean Mazur, Ron's aunt."

"Hello, Betty. I'm glad to meet you. We spoke on the phone." A million butterflies were alight in her stomach but Jean smiled cordially and extended her hand. She told herself it was just like a parent-teacher conference. Betty shook her hand.

"Jean, it's great to meet you. I'm so glad you came." She looked at the younger woman's hair. It was a nice cut, complimentary to the shape of her face.

Bill broke in, "So... white wine all right?"

"Yes, please... thank you."

"Comin' right up. Let me just get this ice in the chest first."

"I'll do that Mr. T."

"Oh... Ron, thanks."

Betty smiled. "I'm surprised we haven't met sooner. Ron told me you're a teacher?"

"Yes. First grade."

"Oh... that must be fun. I taught for ten years. I loved it but I had an opportunity for a higher paying position in business and took it. I really missed teaching though."

"You... you were a teacher? Really?"

"Uh-huh. Sixth grade." Betty grinned. "The k**s are a bit different than first graders, or maybe they're the same, but... with a different frame of mind and set of priorities by then."

"Oh... I know. I took over the sixth grade class for a couple weeks last year. To be honest, I had some problems controlling them." It had been awful, at least with a few of the boys who had made fun of her eye behind her back loud enough for her to hear the comments and titters of laughter. She had almost cried in class, but had luckily gotten herself under control.

Josh saw Ron. "Hey b*o! Come over here!"

Ron was stepping to Jean's side. He turned around. He then looked at Jean and Betty smiling and talking non-stop. He gripped Jean's arm lightly. "Jean, Josh is calling me. Ahhh... you okay?"

"Um..." She gave him an embarrassed smile. "Yes, I am." She saw a glass of wine appear in front of her. She took it from Bill's hand.

"Okay... I'll see ya later."

"All right."

Ron headed towards his friends, hearing Jean thank Bill for the wine. He walked up to Josh standing with a couple other friends. "Hey."

"So... who's the chick, dude?"

Bob echoed it, "Yeah, who's the babe?"

Ron wanted to grin but he didn't. "Hey... cool it. That's my aunt."

"What? Who?!" Josh stared. He had seen Ron's aunt a couple dozen times but not really long looks. That wasn't his fucking aunt. "Don't goof on us, who is she?"

"That's my aunt."

"You're fuckin' k**din' me, dude."

"No. That's her."

Josh kept staring. The girl was about the right height and hair color from what he remembered. "Holy shit... where the hell has she been all my life?"

Ron suddenly found himself wishing they had stayed home. "Hey, asshole, that's my aunt. Watch what the hell you say, b*o."

Josh laughed briefly. "Shit, you bad mouth her all the fuckin' time."

"No, I don't." He had, mainly saying she was incredibly weird.

"Yeah, you have... well, saying she was a dork and freakin' bizarre."

"I... she's not... she's not weird at all. I was an asshole. I was wrong."

Josh laughed. "No shit, dude! Where the hell was she hiding that bod?"

"Hey, Josh... chill. I'm not k**din'... cool it."

"Yeah, no sweat. Maybe you should chill. Come on. We got a bottle of Bushy in my bedroom. We were just going there."

Ron glanced at Jean. She was talking with Mrs. T and a couple of the other mothers. "Yeah, sure."

*


Jean was smiling, actually grinning, as they headed down the Thompson's curving front sidewalk. The last of the sunset light had faded an hour ago. She and Ron were one of the last five couples at the party. It was a beautiful night. It had been a wonderful party.

Betty called out, "Jean! Don't forget to call me soon about lunch!"

Jean gripped Ron's muscular arm as she half turned but kept walking. "I won't forget, Betty! Thanks again for the great party!"

Bill grinned as his arm went around his wife's waist. "Stop by anytime! We need to have a volleyball rematch soon!"

"We may need to practice first!" She laughed and waved. The Thompsons waved then went back into the house. Jean turned forward, continued grinning and laced her arm with Ron's. "Thank you, Ron. I... I should just listen to you from now on. It... it was a lot of fun. I'm really glad we came." She tugged her bikini under her tank top. It had been irritating her skin for the past hour or so. She wished she would have changed into her panties and bra after they got out of the pool. She thought they would leave much sooner though, not be one of the last couples at the party, so when her bathing suit dried she just put on her top and skirt over it.

"Yeah... fun." He walked around to the passenger side of the car, unlocked the door then opened it for her. Jean got in and he closed the door. As he walked around she leaned over and opened his door for him. He liked that she always did that, but it wasn't on his mind at the moment. He got in and started the engine.

"Betty is really nice. I really enjoyed talking with her, and hearing some of her, as she called them, her war stories about teaching. I could relate to some of them so much. I liked Allison and Maggy a lot too. And Bill was so funny. The food was really good too, didn't you think so? Those grilled prawns were so yummy." She looked at Ron's profile and her smile shrank, then disappeared.

He looked straight ahead a the road. "Yeah, it was okay."

"Is... is something wrong, Ron?"

"No, not really." His jaw clenched.

"Well... it seems something is. What... what's on your mind?"

"You seemed to have a lot of fun during the pool volleyball game."

She smiled as her brow pinched. "I did. Didn't you? I saw you laughing. We all were. And... you guys won."

"I noticed you seemed to really be enjoying Jack's dad helping you at the net."

"What? Who?"

"Jack's dad, whatever the hell his name is. He was all over you, coppin' feels all the time."

She made a face. "What? He wasn't doing that. If he had... I... I would have punched him out."

"That's bullshit. He was coppin' feels."

"He didn't. He never once touched my breasts or put his hands anywhere inappropriate. That never happened. Why would even th..."

"Not like that! Every time he picked you up, you had your ass right up against his chest! You laughed about it! He did that a dozen times! And you didn't say a word to him!"

"He was k**ding around! And it was twice at most! He did that to all the women on the team. It wasn't just me."

"Then he was fucking coppin' feels on every other chick on your team too!"

"He wasn't! I... I would have punched him out if he had been. It was only two or three times and it was for... for a moment. God!"

"I... I didn't like it."

Jean blinked. She had never before experienced what was happening. Her 'boyfriend' was jealous. Her voice calmed, "Ron... I didn't think he was groping me at all. If I thought that, I... I would have screamed at him. I... I would have really punched him out. The... the boys... I mean, you guys on the other side, you started it with the girls on your team, remember? That's why Wayne picked up the women on our side, at our waists, and... and he was probably a little d***k too. He didn't touch me like you're implying, and... and my butt wasn't against his chest very long at all. You... you had that girl, Cindy on your shoulders for... for a few serves, the whole time. Wayne didn't cop any feels." She frowned remembering how jealous she had gotten seeing Cindy on Ron's shoulders, even though she had tried to ignore it.

"I... I don't care about her."

Jean's brow pinched. "So you think I'm attracted to or have a crush on Jack's father, Wayne?"

Ron tried to stop it, but his mouth formed a half smile. Jack's dad was big and had muscular arms and legs, but a huge beer gut too. Sometimes he looked pregnant. That was the usual joke, someone asking what month Jack's dad was in. He was also bald on the top of his head. "Okay... okay, I'm acting like a fucking asshole. Sorry." He had kind of enjoyed Cindy's pussy pressing against the back of his head and her thighs sandwiching his neck.

"I've... I've never had a guy be... be jealous about me before."

He sighed. "Well... well, goodie for you, huh?"

She reached for his arm and stroked it. "Are we having a fight?"

"I... I don't know. No, were not fighting. I... I guess I'm acting like a guy... an asshole immature guy."

"If you're acting immature, then... maybe I am too, because... because I got a little jealous when that cute girl was on your shoulders." She knew she had gotten a lot more than a little jealous.

"Are you bullshitting me?" He glanced at her then watched the road again.

"No, I'm not, and... may I ask you something?"

He wondered if someone had told her that he had wanted to ask Cindy out before. "I guess, what?"

"Why do you seem to be swearing so much more lately?"

"Because... because..." He began to grin. "Because you're making me get goddamn jealous all the time."

"Ron?" Her eyes teared a little.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for asking me out and taking me to the party."

He sighed again. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Hmmm... coming with you. I... I think that's a nice idea. When we get home are we going to... to sweetly make love, or..." She started to smile. "Or are you going to fuck me." Her smile grew as she blushed.

Ron smiled too. "I was thinking a little of both."

"Mmm... just the way I like it."

*


Jean was breathing quicker again as she looked at the alarm clock. It was nearly 2:00AM. She almost laughed. How could Ron keep going? She knew how she could, not only did he keep giving her orgasms, but she guessed that at least subconsciously she was trying to make up for a dozen years of celibacy. She wondered again how Ron could be such a good lover. She didn't think he had lied about his minimal experience. She had asked him earlier, after he had used his tongue to bring her to her first orgasm of the night. He said if he was any good, it was because of the thing he couldn't say to her. She had almost cried again but f***ed herself to keep the tears at bay. She had been crying in front of him way too much lately. She winced and shut her eyes.

"Dammit. I'm... I don't wanna hurt you, Jean."

"It felt good before that moment, just... maybe... um..."

He slowly pulled his middle finger from her hot anus. "We don't have to do this, Jean." His cock was throbbing. He really wanted it in her ass again.

"I know you want to and... and I want to too, really. I really do, Ron. Put more gel on and then... then go slower."

"I... I want you to like this... enjoy it too, if you won't or don't, I don't wanna do it."

"God... Ron, I liked it the first time, remember? You always make me feel so good. I want to make you feel good too. You... you don't even let me suck you."

"Yeah, I do."

"Not very long. You always tell me to stop. Is... is that because I do it badly?"

He chuckled as he added more gel to her hot anus. "I tell you to stop because you do it so good it makes me wanna do other stuff."

"Next time, I want you to cum in my mouth again. I... I cum on your mouth."

He swirled two fingertips on and around her hot asshole. "I know. I love that."

"You do? Or is that a joke?"

"Jeezuz, Jean... I've told you that every time you cum on my mouth and tongue. I love the way you... you kiss me with your pussy. I love that. It really is like a kiss, a... a special French kiss. That's the way I think of it, a very hot special French kiss. I want you to cum on my mouth every time."

"Why do you get to say stop when I suck you, but when I've told you to stop licking and... and... and start fucking, you don't." She blushed again. She shook her head. She couldn't believe the way she talked now when she wasn't even d***k.

"Because... because you always say that right before you orgaz, so I keep licking. It makes me want to even more."

She giggled softly. "Ron? 'Orgaz' isn't a word."

He pulled his fingers off her anus and gave her bubble cheek a light swat. Thap!

Jean flinched. "Ow!" She giggled. "What was that for?"

"For being a smart ass... teacher."

"I think you're the teacher at this point." She shut her eyes. "Mmmmh." She felt Ron's other hand slide under her and his fingers started playing with her clit. She was a tiny bit tender there, but not enough to stop her from tingling instantly. "Mmmmhhhh. That's... that's so nice." She felt his other fingers returned to her anus. It heightened her tingling. "Mmm... I like that too, Ron."

* * *


Chapter 9

Ron looked around. He touched his hand to Jean's and then took it in his.

"Ron? Maybe we sh..."

He interrupted, "Oh... jeezuz, Jean. It's a weekday, we're at Lincoln Park in the city. No one we know will see us here. Maybe... maybe in the zoo, even though I'll want to, I won't hold your hand because of the million to one possibility we might see someone who knows us. So... so... so just relax."

Jean pressed her side against his arm. A smile grew on her mouth. "Well... we shouldn't be taking chances being seen holding hands, but okay, we'll hold hands, although... I was going to say, maybe we should have packed a picnic lunch." She giggled softly.

He smiled. "Yeah, maybe next time. I want to try that little Thai restaurant Mrs. T told you about. I have the google map in the car."

"You know, she really liked our Thai restaurant too. She had never been there."

It felt good to hear Jean say 'our' restaurant. "It was you and Mrs. T and who else?"

Jean smiled. "Alison. She's a lot of fun too."

"So, they're like what? At least in their forties, right?"

"Uh-huh. I think Betty looks thirty-something though. Alison looks good too. Younger than her age."

"So them being ten - fifteen years older than you wasn't... you know weird?"

"No. Not at all. I didn't even think about that."

"So then it's not weird or odd being with me for you, since there's only twelve years between us."

Her smiled faded. "Ron... you know that's not our problem, not the real problem at all."

"Listen, Jean, I've been thinking. I don't know why it..."

"Ron, please. We... we both know this... us together like this, can't go on. We know it's not right and... and we know it has to end when Frank comes home. I know we should have stopped... sooner, but... I just can't stop it before we have to this summer. I..." Her eyes teared up. "You're... you're very important to me. I... I don't want this to end but I know it has to. It has to, Ron. We... we can't do this after Frank comes home." Her face scrinched for a moment. She wiped her eyes and tried to relax.

"Jean... please, don't get upset. Let's... let's sit on that bench for a little while. I want to... Let me tell you what I've thought about."

Jean realized with only nineteen days left before Frank's scheduled return, the end of their illicit yet wonderful relationship was going to be on both their minds. They had been having a marvelous day until a few moments ago. Their age difference was now finally apparent. Ron was trying to figure out every way it didn't have to end. There was no way for it to continue. She knew in her heart it never should have begun. She didn't feel guilty at the moment though, and she wouldn't in the future unless somehow this wonderful yet wrong relationship ended up negatively affecting Ron in some way, whether it was tomorrow or ten years from now.

Something else had also become apparent to her about their ages, or more accurately, her own lack of maturity in probably more than one aspect of her personality. Her maturing process in terms of her sexual and romantic/emotional experience had halted the day of the accident. Her growth in those parts of herself had stayed dormant until she and Ron made love, maybe it was more making lust that first time. She was thirty and he was eighteen, but he had more experience, he was leading her, teaching her, not the other way around. She had thought and acted like a teenager about it all, because sexually and romantically she still was a teenaged girl. It was one reason she had ignored all thoughts about consequences, just like a teenager would. Ron had been and still was filling in a huge gap in her life, her experiences, and filling her heart which had ached for love for a dozen years.

They sat down, she held his hand as her other rose to wipe her eyes again.

Ron let go of her hand and put his arm on the back of the bench then his hand caressed her shoulder. "I've been thinking. Look... I know this can't go on forever, and I know no one else can ever know about us, but... Jean, I don't feel that anything we've done has been wrong, not in my heart, and... and not in my mind. I know we're related and... and that's supposed to make it wrong, but, like I just said, I don't feel it's wrong. Okay, but... I also know that... that you're going back home at the end of summer, like always, and I'm going to college this fall. And... and I know you may meet some guy in the next nine mo... hell, you may meet some guy a week after you get home, and... and you know, fall in love, and... and all that, and I won't mean anything to y..."

She quickly turned towards him, putting her palm on the back of his neck. "Ron, don't ever think you won't mean the world to me. You will always... always be so very important to me." Her face scrinched up and tears started dropping from her eye lashes.

He put his arms around her and held her close. He kissed her head. Sometimes it seemed all he could do was make her cry. "I... I didn't mean to say that."

"Don't ever think that. You will always... always be important to me. I want you to be happy. We... we can't go on this way. I want you to find a very nice, very pretty, very smart girl. You... you... you deserve that, Ron. You are... are such a good man, a... a guy with... with so much love in him." She cried softly for a full minute, unable to stop the cascading tears.

He kissed her head a few times. His own eyes were brimming with tears. "Jean... I want you to be happy, happy and loved like... like you deserve."

"I... want the same thing for y-y-you."

"Jean, I... I don't think what we're doing is wrong. Do... do you really think it is?"

"It... it doesn't feel like it is, but... Ron, it is... we... we both know it is."

"All I know is that it feels right, right and good. I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. I... I want you to be happy and loved and... and if you find some guy who... who you have that with, who you fall in love with, I'll... I'll be very happy for you, but... if you don't meet that guy right away, why... I mean, why would it be wrong for us to... to continue? I... I might be able to visit you sometimes, you know, just me, during semester breaks, and... and you usually visit here at Christmastime. And a couple years ago, Dad was out of town during the holidays. And... and then there's next summer. Why can't next sum..."

Jean interrupted again, "I may not be coming here next summer."

It felt as if the ground had disappeared under his feet. "What? Why not?"

"Ron... you'll be in college. You won't need me here. Frank... Frank may tell me this was the last summer he'll want me here."

"He won't say that. And... okay, maybe he'll think I won't need you here, to... to keep an eye on me, but... I'll... I'll tell Dad he should ask you again, to... to give you a... a kind of vacation. Something like that."

"I... I don't know, Ron. This... it... this has to stop. We... we both know that."

"It only has to stop when... when you meet some guy, when you fall in love. And... and when Dad is around, obviously we... we'd have to cool it. And, like I said, I can..."

"Ron, when you fall in love. You... you will find some great girl. You will. We... we have to stop so... so you find the girl you're supposed to find. And... and not be thinking about me, about us, about us being together. You have your whole future to be concerned about."

"I... I don't care about that other imaginary girl. I..."

Jean broke in again, "You have to care about that, about her. You have to, Ron. Your future and... and that girl are who and what you need to be concerned about, not me. You have your whole life ahead of you."

"No, it's you who's going to find the right guy. But... until then..."

"Ron, it's you we need to be concerned about. I... I've missed my chance. I don't want you to miss your chance."

"You haven't missed your chance. I... okay, how about this? When either of us finds a... a person who... who we... who we want to... who we love, then... then we'll stop seeing each other in... in this special way. Jean, I don't feel what we're doing is wrong. You... you probably think I'm not thinking clearly or... or like an adult in this, but... but I think I am, at least about what I feel is right and good and not wrong. And... and speaking of wrong, have I been... have I been wrong about anything so far?"

"You were wrong about..." She sniffled and blinked a few times. "You were wrong about..." She exhaled. "I can't think of anything. That... that doesn't mean..."

Ron interrupted, "I haven't been wrong about anything about us so far, so... so I'm probably right that... that what we have is good and unless you fi... unless either of us find some other person, we should just continue what we have together."

The conversation had Jean feeling emotionally, intellectually and even a little physically exhausted. "I... I don't know, Ron." She pushed back from him and wiped her eyes. "I can't think anymore about it right now. We... we should just enjoy the few weeks we have left this summer."

"Jean... maybe not right at this moment, but... we have to talk about this. It's... at least to me, it's too important not to talk about it more."

"It... you are important to me, Ron. We will... we will talk about it, but... not right now, all right?"

He took a slow deep breath, then exhaled it. He had wanted to talk it out today. "Yeah... okay." They were both silent with their own thoughts for a full minute. He told himself they would talk and he should try not to worry about it. Ron broke the silence, "Have I ruined the day?"

She smiled softly. "No, you haven't ruined the day."

"Then... let's get moving. I'm pretty sure they feed the seals in less than a half hour. And it's kinda cool."

She grinned but her eyes welled up yet again. "Okay. Let's hurry." She quickly stood up, grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Come on, we don't wanna miss that."

He had hoped to get her to agree, but knew it'd take some more talking and working at it. His voice rose an octave, "Hey... are you laughing at me?"

"What? No! I'm just..." She saw him smile. Her jaw tensed for a moment. "You're so mean to me!" She swatted his shoulder. Thap. She watched him grin then chuckle and she realized at that moment they were finally both completely "normal" with each other no matter how abnormal their situation was. They each had grown in their time together, she probably more than him because she had to catch up, and they had also grown together to reach this point. It was also true that Ron had helped her more than the other way round. She wished with all her heart their situation was different and she could tell him just how much she loved him. Once again, her eyes welled up.

Ron put his arm around her. His grin shrank when he saw her eyes tear. "What is it, Jean?"

Her arm moved around his waist as her other hand rose to wipe her eyes. She smiled. "Nothing, and... and everything, Ron." She tilted her head up and raised up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'm so happy right now." More tears filled her eyes. She giggled nervously. "Come on. I want to see those seals swim and jump for their lunchtime fishies."

*


They were both breathing heavily as Ron's cock finally slipped out of Jean's snug, warm pussy. He began planting breathy, moist, meandering kisses, starting at her shoulders, to her neck to her pliant feminine mounds, dallying at her taut pink nipples, then heading lower down her abdomen.

Jean was still feeling tingling waves radiating from between her legs. She loved his kisses, all his gentle caresses afterwards. She knew just from overhearing conversations in the teachers lounge and reading articles in women's magazines that a lot of guys, men, just rolled over and went to sl**p right afterwards. Jean had finally accepted that Ron really couldn't get enough of her. He thrilled her making love, and he thrilled her both before and after too. He was so attentive, so romantic, so intense, and lusty, and gentle, and rough. She grinned. He was a smorgasbord of lovemaking! "Ron... you lay on your back, I wanna kiss you like this. You're spoiling me." She giggled. You... you never let me do anything."

"Yeah, I do." He looked up smiling. "I let you lay on your back and you let me kiss you. It's even."

"Come up here and hug me." When he did, she rocked back and forth to get momentum to roll him onto his back. She started kissing his neck and shoulders. "Just lay there, this time you can't move." He had told her that a dozen times, teasing her with the most wonderful kisses and caresses, which usually got her so turned on they had to do it again.

"Hey... that's my line." He lay there and enjoyed it as her kisses slowly traveled down his body. She got to his flaccid cock and her tongue lapped around the head. It started growing. "Hey... ahhh... Jean?"

"Uh-huh?" She kept her tongue moving. It was still amazing to her how just her tongue or a little stroke of her finger could get Ron's cock to start growing so soon after he had an orgasm.

"I think I have to go to the bathroom soon."

Her head jerked up. "Oh."

He laughed. "It's not going to start any moment, Jean."

"Shut up. I know that." She blushed.

He laughed again. "Now, you come up here, take a break. I'll get us some wine or soda or something soon. I'm thirsty."

She slid up his side and put her head on his shoulder. "I thought you had to go to the bathroom."

"In a moment. I..." He exhaled. "I wanna ask you something that... well, I should have asked a long time ago."

Jean tensed for a moment, then told herself to relax. She had told him most of everything. "All right, what is it?"

"You're on the pill, right?"

She tensed again. She hadn't expected that question. "I... I'm not, but... but we don't have to worry about it."

"Huh?" His brow pinched. He knew there were contraceptives other than the pill and condoms, but he couldn't think of them at the moment. He thought one was some sort of inserted wire or something, which sounded like he might be making that up. "Why isn't it a worry?"

She wished he hadn't asked. She probably should have told him at the start. "I... I can't get pregnant. It's... it's from my accident. I... I had some internal injuries. My ovary ducts... um... were... it's... let's just say I can't get pregnant."

It felt like the wind got knocked out of him. He knew she could never have his baby, but he had seen her in his mind lately as a mother, holding a baby, being a great mom. He had imagined her with a daughter who looked just like her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all! She was a beautiful, smart, caring girl. She should be able to have c***dren! "I'm... I'm sorry, Jean."

She heard the sadness in his voice. "The way... the way I look at it, Ron, is that I have twenty-five c***dren every year. In... in less than a month, I'll have twenty-five new k**s."

He didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe how crushed he felt. What must she feel like? What must she have felt like for twelve years? He'd do anything if he could just change the past and have Jean never get into the car that day. How could so many shitty things happen to one person? Would he have been as brave as she's been? Would he have been able to deal with everything she's had to deal with? He felt his throat begin to constrict as he eyes teared. He coughed. "I'm... gonna get something to drink, and... go to the john." He pulled his arm from around her. He had to get out of the room before he lost it. He sat up on the edge of the bed, his back to Jean. "What... do you want to drink?"

"Just... just ice water, please." She stared at his back. Her eyes teared a little. She wondered if he now thought of her as less of a woman. No, it had to be something else.

He got up and didn't look at her. "'kay." He walked fairly fast to the hall and headed downstairs. He went to the bathroom on the first floor to piss. He kept telling himself not to lose it. He flushed and washed his hands, then went to the kitchen. The small undercabinet light by the sink was on. He made up her glass of ice water, then opened the refrigerator. He tried to decide if he wanted a Coke or ice water too. His vision blurred. It was so fucking unfair! Dad had told him Mom couldn't have more k**s after him, and that she had been very sad about it, so had his dad. That wasn't fair to her and Dad either. His mom had been a terrific mother. Tears started running down his face. He closed the refrigerator and sat on the cool floor, his legs folded up, his feet flat on the floor, his back against the island cabinets. His elbows settled on his knees, and his palms covered his face. It wasn't fair to Jean! He started crying. Nothing had gone right for her!

Jean started to worry. It was taking a long time to get a couple drinks. Was he now thinking she was less of a woman? It couldn't be that. Could it? She slid off the bed and headed downstairs.

He wiped his nose with his arm. He was at least glad he wasn't sobbing, but he couldn't stop the tears. He had to get it together! He told himself not to talk to her about it at all. It would just make her sad. He hated himself for how much he had made her cry over the past couple months. He folded his arms across his knees and lay his forehead on his arms. He let the tears drop to the floor.

Jean walked towards the kitchen but didn't see him. She stopped and looked outside at the moonlit patio. She thought she heard a cough in the kitchen area. She walked to the island countertop, then saw the glass of ice water on the wall counter. She walked around the island. She stopped dead in her tracks. "Ron.... Ron... what's wrong?" She hurried the few steps to him and was instantly on her knees. "What's wrong? Are... are you okay?" She put her arm around him and pressed her cheek to his head.

He cleared his throat again. His voice was strained and raspy, "I... I just need a couple minutes alone, Jean. Okay?"

She sat down naked next to him and wrapped her arms around him. Tears were running down her face. Her voice was squeaky, "Tell me what's wrong. Ron? What's... what's wrong?"

"I... I don't want to make you cry. I... I..." He cleared his throat and wiped his nose on his forearm.

"Ron, just tell me. Is... is it about me not being able to have babies?"

He nodded. "It's... Jean, it's... it's not fucking fair. You... you should be... you should be able to have k**s. You'd be... such... a... great... mom. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry, Jean. And I'm... and I'm sorry I'm crying... I..."

"Oh Ron." More tears ran down her face as she tightened her arms around his shoulders and her head pressed against his. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry."

"I'm acting like a wimp. I'm sorry, Jean. I just so damn sorry."

"You're not acting like that at all. You're... you're acting like... you're acting like... like the man I love."

"Jean, I love you so damn much."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I love you just as much."

* * *


Chapter 10

Until the phone rang, they had been lying on the cushioned chaises near the pool, reviewing all the restaurants they had gone to over the past couple months. They were now sitting at the umbrella table.

Ron was looking into Jean's pretty blue eyes. Her sun glasses were propped up on the top of her head, the temples were acting like a hair band, gathering it back away from her face, which was lightly tanned as the rest of her. She was always very careful about the sun and used heavy duty sun screen. He always enjoyed putting it on her back and legs and liked fighting her hands away when he did the exposed parts of her luscious ass, and of course when he always "accidentally" slipped a couple fingertips under the edge of her bikini bottoms.

He held the phone tighter. "Yeah, Dad, I got it. Saturday, 11:00AM. I'll park and then meet you at the baggage claim area." He listened. "Yeah, I think she wrote down the flight..." Jean showed him the small tablet. He smiled. "Yeah, she's showing me the airline and flight number right now. She's very organized. I'd be so confused if she didn't keep things straight around here." He chuckled. He saw her jaw clench then felt the top of her bare foot slapped the side of his calve under the table. He grinned. "Yeah, well, I'm looking forward to seeing you too. You wanna talk to Jean again?" He listened. "Yeah, you take it easy too. I'll be there on time, Dad." He looked at Jean's pretty eyes again and realized they only had three full days left to be alone together. "Yeah, she's right here. Take it easy, see ya Saturday." He handed the phone to Jean. "He wants to say good-bye."

She took the phone. "Frank?" She listened but was looking at Ron's face trying to read his mood. "I'm... we're both looking forward to you getting home." She listened. "Well, you better go then. Have a safe trip. I love you, Frank." She smiled. "Bye." She thumbed the end button. She sadly smiled at Ron.

"So... today's Tuesday, that means we have the rest of today, then Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday morning. Three... three and a half days."

"Let's... let's not get sad, Ron."

"You said you'd have your mind made up by last night but you didn't bring it up. So... do you have your mind made up?"

"I... I... I guess I don't. I mean... I know what I should say and should do, what we should do, but... I... I just can't get myself to say it. Ron... we... we know what we should do. We both know that we ha..."

He interrupted, "Let's not repeat all that again. Okay... you can't make up your mind, so... so I'm making up both our minds. We will stay in contact, by phone or email, maybe letters, and... I will call you, and I want you to call me whenever you feel like it. We will let each other know how our lives are going regarding if we've met anyone we're... we're at least interested in getting to know better, if not really date, just like we talked about the other day." He was using most of her words from that discussion. "We both have to promise the other, that... that we will be open to finding other people, putting ourselves into situations where we'll at least meet people who we might be interested in getting to know better or even date. And if you want to, like you said, we can review this.... this relationship agreement, whatever you want to call it, like once every month, to see if it's still okay, and... and working for each of us. And above all...."

Jean broke in, "I... I think we definitely need to review it at least once a month."

He smiled inside. Jean had just tacitly agreed they'd continue their wonderful and secret relationship. "Yeah, okay, that's part of it. And... and where was I?" He smiled.

"Above all we have to always be honest, totally open and frank with each other about everything, inluding other people we are attracted to, our feelings, and our thoughts about... about our relationship... everything and anything, I think that's what you were going to say."

"Yeah... yeah, that was it. And if neither of us find someone else, the agreement will continue to a year from now, when... when we'll sit down and talk about it all again, I mean, more than just the monthly review and see... see if we want to renew it." He took a breath. "And... we have three more days to add on anything either of us think should be added, and... well... I guess we can add stuff anytime, just... we both have to agree to it." He reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Jean, don't worry about this. I... I think you think I don't realize this... this relationship we have can't go on forever. I know it can't, but... but it still feels right and good to me, and... and I love you. I can't help that."

"We..." She took a slow breath and exhaled just as slowly. "We shouldn't have fallen in love. We... we shouldn't have done that. I... I sometimes think, Ron, that... that we're agreeing to just delay our... our heartbreak, our sadness at parting. I am so afraid that you won't try to find a girl you'll be able to tell people about, who you'll be able to have a real and normal relationship with. I... I don't want to be the reason you don't find her. I would feel so terribly guilty and so awful if that happened. I'd... I'd be so mad at you too if you didn't search for the right girl. You have to promise me you will. Promise me right now."

"Okay... okay... I promise."

"Don't say it like that. Promise me you'll look for the... the right girl, the girl you will fall in love with."

"I'll promise that, if you promise the same about finding the right guy for you."

"I promise to look for and hopefully find the right guy for me who... who I'll love as much as I love you, and who will love me as much as you love me, Ron." Her eyes teared up.

"I promise to look for and hope to find that right girl, and... and all that other stuff you just said." He half smiled. He wondered if he'd ever look for another girl. He couldn't imagine feeling the way he did about Jean towards any other girl than her.

She knew they were making the absolute wrong decision. They were thinking with their hearts, not their brains. They should end it the day before Frank returned. This wasn't going to work. They were trying to convince each other that they could control their emotions, deep intense emotions, and she knew that was impossible. They were just delaying the inevitable heartbreak and sadness, and maybe because of that delay it would be even worse when it finally happened. She knew she was going to fall deeper in love with him. She prayed he'd find a beautiful, intelligent, and nice girl in the fall.

Yes, she knew they should break it off before Saturday, but she just didn't have the strength to let go of him yet. It was sinful, and wrong, and crazy, but she had fallen so deeply in love with him. The twelve years difference in their ages didn't matter because, as she thought the other week, they were in essence the same age in some important ways, nor did the soon to be imposed physical distance of separation matter, nor did the i****tual context. The only things that mattered were what they felt. She loved him, she wanted him, she only felt "right" when she was with him. She felt so elated about all that, yet so sad too, because it would never be "normal" and she knew they were on the path to terrible heartbreak. She was certain of that.

She was also certain, there was no "Mr. Right" out there looking for her, hoping to meet her, to find her. When Ron hopefully found the girl he deserved who would be his Ms. Right, she would try her best to hold onto the good things, the good changes in her, but she would again be the celibate, sexually frustrated girl... woman again. She just couldn't give him up yet. Maybe it really wouldn't be too selfish to hold onto him for a year. She had to have one more year with him, just one more year, and then she'd have more than enough memories to take her through the rest of her life. And then after they parted, she'd still have him and his love in her heart. She was sure he'd still love her, not the way she wanted, but she was sure there'd be a small part of his heart that still held her close, that would still remember their times together, the way they shared with and in each other so openly, so wonderfully, so lovingly, so passionately.

Tears started dropping from her eyelashes. She quickly wiped her eyes with her free hand and f***ed a smile to her mouth. "I... I don't think I've cried so much in... in years and years. It's... it's good. You've... you've taught me to feel so much, Ron, and... and you've given me so much more too." She kept the smile on her mouth as her face scrinched a little and tears ran faster down her face.

He kept holding her hand as he rose and moved around the table. He knelt on the concrete then took her into his arms. "Jean, please don't be sad. I... I really think, really believe that love... love can only be good. It... it can never be bad. You've... you've given me so much too. No matter what happens in the future, I will always... always love you, just as much as I do right at this moment."

She hugged him tighter. She knew that wasn't true, there would be a new girl, a new woman in his future, and even though he would still save a little spot in his heart for her, his love would never be this strong. Maybe her own wouldn't be either. She closed her eyes and concentrated on stopping her tears. No, her love would never diminish. It would always be this strong. No new love would ever replace it. Ron was the first and would be the last and only man she would ever love. "I love you, Ron. I love you so very much."

* * *


Chapter 11

On Wednesday evening they went to the small Thai restaurant where they had their first "date." They were both somewhat hoping they'd get the same waitress but she wasn't working. They had a good time, yet they both felt the evening begin to be tinted with a bit of melancholy. When the dishes were cleared and they were brought their ice coffees and doggy bag, it was Ron who bought up the subject.

"We're both a little sad, aren't we?"

Jean nodded and her soft smile was laced with the sadness they were feeling. "It seems that way, a... a little, but... I'm glad we're here and I am having a wonderful time with you, Ron."

"I am with you too. I... I was wondering if..." He half smiled. "If we should like set aside an hour at the end of the week to get really sad so... so we don't have to until then. Wha'd'ya think?"

Jean's eyes teared a little but she smiled softly. "Okay, maybe we should do that."

"What would you like to do after this?"

"Mmmm.... ice cream?"

His smile turned real. "I guess we're doin' the full replay, huh?"

"Uh-huh." Jean giggled softly.

He glanced around, then leaned towards her over the table. "Which means later, we're going to stay up until the wee hours and screw like two crazy-in-love people." His smile turned into a grin when Jean nodded and grinned too as her face turned a medium shade of red. After nearly three months, she was still blushing. God... he loved her so damn much.

*


"Mmmnnnhhh," Jean moaned. She was in the 'half doggy' postion, kneeling but her shoulders and head were on the mattress. She was gasping each breath. Ron's wonderful, thick, hard cock was thrusting into her perfectly, his right hand was under her, two fingertips rubbing and playing with her turgid clit exactly the way she loved it. His other hand sensually slid up and down the curve of her back.

She had been on the brink of orgasm for the past couple minutes. She was sure he knew it too. She was figuratively and even somewhat literally, in the palm of his hand and she knew he realized it. She was entrusting her body and her pleasure to him, and she liked that notion, because it felt like a loving thing to do, but she knew all she had to do was ask him to give her the orgasm she was now desperately in need of and he'd give it to her. Yet, she wanted to hold off a little longer. It truly did feel perfect, everything, all his touches, his cock thrusting deep all the way to her cervix, their mutual slower counterpoint rhythm, her shoving her bottom back to meet his plunging muscle, his groin smacking into her ass - smat... smat... smat... smat... The only thing that slightly concerned her was that she was now breathing so fast and hard she thought she might faint. It all felt so glorious, so hot, and so very loving. "Oh... oh god, Ron," she moaned.

He stared at her seductive apple ass. He loved seeing the little shock waves each time his groin met her firm buns. It was almost like slapping two waterfilled balloons. He loved every curve of her but her ass was to die for. He knew she was very close orgasm, so was he, but he wanted it all to last longer. They only had a couple days left and not many more times to make love. He wished he could keep his cock inside her forever. He sucked a few deeper breaths. "God... Jean... your ass... your ass is so hot... I love looking at it like this, making love... watching you... jeezuz."

She spoke breathlessly, "Quit... quit watching... my butt, just... oh god... Ron, I'm so close, baby. Please... just fuck me... fuck me a little harder and faster now... come on, fuck me harder... a little harder."

The corner of his mouth curled. He couldn't resist. He plunged deep and stay planted as his fingers stopped on her clit. Her ass started grinding crazily against his groin. He started taking a few more deeper breaths.

'Oh... god... baby, don't stop... don't stop. Come on... fuck me... keep fucking me. Ro-on."

"Jean? Could I ask you something?"

"Huh? Wha'... what is it?" Her hips kept squirming. She was so close, so very close. She couldn't wait any longer. She had to cum, had to reach orgasm right now.

"It seems to me you've been swearing more lately, using very foul language. Why is that?" He grinned.

Jean remembered their conversation in the car after the Thompson party. She started laughing which made her feel even more breathless. "Shut up!" She laughed again. "Don't tease. Come on... Ron... keep fu... making love to me... make love harder... harder... come on." She reached for his hand at her pussy and urged it to restart. She heard him laugh, then his fingers and cock started moving again. They were instantly back in the perfect counterpoint rhythms. They made love perfectly together. He even made her laugh during it! "Oh god, Ron... I love you... I love you so much."

Within a couple minutes, they both crested, she felt his body tighten, his cock, ripple, expand, and surge spewing gobs of heat deep inside her as her own body began to quake with spasms inside and out. She wished she could stay locked with him inside her forever. It was more than an orgasm, more than making love, it felt like they had just melted together and become one.

* * *


Chapter 12

Ron put his other hand on the steering wheel and thought about the day so far.

Jean had wanted to go with him to the airport, but Ron said it would be better if he talked to his dad alone. Ron didn't mention his concern that his dad might get suspicious if Jean was in the car looking all hot and beautiful and not wearing her blue jean shorts and T shirt uniform. Ron knew that his father was smart and didn't miss much that was going on around him.

Ron had wanted to stay up all night making love with Jean, but they had done that the night before. They got into bed around 10PM, made love, then were going to "relax" for a while before round 2, but they both had fallen asl**p spooning within minutes. Jean woke him up at 7:30 this morning. They had overslept. He had wanted to make love and it hadn't taken much to convince Jean.

They had done it slowly and tenderly. The foreplay went on for a long time. He wanted to see, touch, and kiss ever square inch of her, and he took his time. It was as if he was trying to memorized every subtle curve, dimple, line, and color of her landscape. He had licked her pretty pussy for a while, but not to orgasm because she pulled him up, saying she needed him inside her.

She guided him in, and they held each other close and made love slowly yet passionately, moving into numerous positions they had done and a couple new ones too. When they were running out of time, their bodies moved faster, became more intense, yet didn't lose any of the intimacy and emotional connection. Jean reached orgasm, and when Ron pushed in deep and pumped his seed into her depths, he held her so close it seemed to her that he was trying to tell her without speaking just how much he loved her. It had made her silently cry. It was so beautiful and wondrous, yet so sad too. They held each other for fifteen minutes, until Jean whispered he had to get ready to drive to the airport and pick up Frank.

They took a shower together, bathing each other and then hugging and kissing once again at the end. Something came over Jean. She realized that even though the past three months had been an emotional roller coaster at times, they had also been the happiest of her adult life. She hugged him tighter. She grinned and told him he was right, that love was always good, that they should be elated, happy that they had found love, even if fate kept them apart in the future, they had love and each other right now. She said she wasn't going to be sad anymore while she was with him, she was going to enjoy her love and being loved, and every moment with him, and Frank too when he got home. She asked him to do the same and he said he would. She had made him promise. He had said it again as a promise, then she had giggled and said she truly was happy and thought life was wonderful and had been most of the summer.

"And that's due to you, Ron! For the rest of the time I'm here, there's not going to be any room inside me for sadness! And it better be the same for you!"

She had hugged him again and laughed. He had felt her happiness and it made him laugh too. He said he felt the same way. She then reminded him of the time. Ron had to hurry getting dressed. Jean dressed too and mentioned she was going to check to see if there was any necessary last minute cleaning needed around the houe, then run to the grocery store and pick up a few more things for dinner. She said she was sure she'd be back before him and Frank, but if not, she wouldn't be long.

She walked him out to his car talking nearly non-stop, "Remember we really do have a lot to be happy about. Drive safely. You may be tired so make sure you pay attention to the traffic. You just better drive safely. If you get tired, pull off the road. Frank would want you to d..."

He had wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I'm not tired. I'm going to drive safely. I'm going to be fine." He had wondered if she was seeing some sort of connection to her horrible accident. He spoke softly, "I love you, Jean. I love you with all my heart. You and that make me very happy."

"I love you with all my heart too, Ron."

He smiled at her and then got into the car and drove off.

Ron told himself to stop thinking about what had just happened this morning and do as Jean said, pay attention to his driving. The interstate traffic was moving fast, some of the construction near O'Hare must have been completed, and it was Saturday too. He wouldn't be late.

For some reason he thought of Josh and Tom. His mouth formed a crooked smile. They probably thought he had dropped off the face of the earth. He hadn't really spent any time with them for a couple weeks. The past few days he had stopped answering his cell. He didn't want to be bothered because time with Jean had been running out.

Jean was leaving on Tuesday, driving back home. She had some things to get prepared for a teachers' meeting at her school on Friday. Her school year started the following Monday. He'd be leaving for college on that Monday. His brow pinched. It really had been more like 2 1/2 months with Jean, not really three. Maybe he had thought of the months, June, July, August, and so it just seemed it was three months of time. He saw the exit for the airport. He put on the turn signal, checked his mirrors then looked over his shoulder before he lane changed.

He was able to get a parking slot in the high rise parking structure. He was early so he took the stairs instead of the elevator. He made his way across the roadway to the terminal and checked the flight status board for his dad's flight. It was just arriving, incredibly fifteen minutes early. He headed down to the baggage claim area, grabbing a baggage cart on the way.

Ten minutes later passengers began coming into the area. Ron looked for his father in the stream. He spotted him carrying a briefcase and a couple blueprint tubes. Ron grinned and waved. His dad finally saw him. They pushed through the flow of passengers and shook hands, then hugged. The hug was a real one, not the "manly version" of one. It had been that way at appropriate times since Ron's mother had died of cancer when he was twelve. They made their way to the correct carousel area. Ron had to wait outside the railing, holding his dad's briefcase and blueprints, making sure no one took their cart while Frank grabbed his three bags as they showed up on the merry-go-round. As Ron was waiting he mentally reviewed what he was going to say to his dad.

Frank got all his bags, checked them out at the gate, then Ron helped him load the cart. Ron pushed it. As they made their way to the car, Frank asked his son how he had liked his big graduation gift. Ron gave his father a quizzical look. Frank grinned and pointed out he thought telling Ron to actually have a summer vacation and not work full time as he had the past few summers was one of his graduation gifts. Ron gave him a crooked smile and said it was his best graduation present, then he told his dad he was sure it was supposed to be two summers off.

Frank chuckled, "Fat chance, buddy."

Ron grinned, but the momentary thought of having next summer completely free with Jean had been nice.

They chatted more on their way to the car. In the parking structure elevator they both glanced at a very pretty Asian college babe with her slightly older boyfriend. Frank and his dad exchanged a brief smile about her. When the elevator doors opened, the couple let them out first with the cart. Ron transfered the bags to the car. Five minutes later, there were on the interstate. Traffic going south was even lighter and faster than the north bound lanes had been.

Frank took a long slow breath before speaking. "Ron, before we get home, I want to have a heart to heart with you about something that's been bothering me all summer."

Ron's gut tightened. "Ahhh... what, Dad?"

"You know, we had... not an argument really, but let's say a heated discussion about... about you being able to live alone in the house this summer. I... I didn't mean to imply I didn't think you were adult enough to do it, and... and I was wrong to imply you'd make it a party house. I felt really badly about that, like it was me saying you were still a little k**. You're not. I know you're not. It... it wasn't just you I was thinking about though. I was thinking about Jean too, but... maybe I should have just..."

Ron couldn't believe how perfectly it was working out, he quickly interrupted, "I've been thinking too, Dad, and... what you said before you left, makes... well, it makes sense. Aunt Jean here in the summer, it... it does give her a kind of vacation, I mean, we... we do have the pool, which... she does use by the way, I was wrong about that, and... and if she wants to go to the city, it's only twenty miles, and where she lives, isn't exactly like a tiny farm town, but... there's not any museums and stuff like that.

"Anyway, what you said before you left, I thought about it and it made sense. She... she doesn't really... you know, bug me, and I wouldn't have had any parties anyway... okay, I might have had a few parties, who knows, but... but I think she should still visit every summer. And, there's this thing, she has this deal with this other teacher she used to work with, who moved out of state, who... who has like old parents in town, in Jean's town, and this woman sort of takes care of them, but it's really more of a summer visit, they're not like in wheel chairs or anything, and like this woman would like to have her own place to live while she's there, like she has other friends in the area too, maybe like a boyfriend too, I'm not sure, anyway so Jean rents this other teacher her house for the summer. Did you know that?"

"Yeah, I knew that." Frank smiled at his son. The k** was truly growing up.

"Anyway, I know she's... well, only partially here to check up on me, and... and that doesn't really bother me. In fact, this summer we've gotten along really well, it's... it's like I've gotten to know her a lot better, and... and I like her a lot. We're... we're really pretty good friends now. Plus she's a really great cook, you know? So... I think she should just keep coming every summer, like it has been. You know, if she like wants to." Ron's gut tensed. He hoped he hadn't overdone it.

"I... I'm glad you said that, Ron. I... I think it is good for her to... to have a change of scenery for a few months. And, like I just said, I do trust you. I regret implying that I didn't, which is why I brought this up right away. I thought about talking with you about it over the phone but... ahh hell..." He chuckled. "You're really making me feel old right now."

"What?" He glanced at his dad. "Wha'd'ya' mean?"

"You're not a k** anymore. What you just said about Jean, proves it. So... if you're no longer a k**, then... then that makes me a lot older." He smiled then looked at his son. Ron had an odd smile on his face, as if he was slightly embarrassed. His own smile softened. "Your mom would be very proud of you right now." He saw Ron's smile disappear. Frank took a slow breath. "I still miss her too, every single day, Ron, every single moment."

"Uh... yeah... yeah, me too, Dad." He didn't want to imagine what Mom was thinking about him right now.

Frank cleared his throat. "So... still looking forward to going off to college? Mannn... the house is really going to feel empty with you away at school."

They continued talking about other things as they drove to the western suburbs. They both commented on how surprisingly light the traffic was. As Ron pulled into the driveway and parked, they both agreed they had made it in record time. Ron expected Jean to run out to greet them but when she didn't, he figured she was doing the last minute grocery shopping. He was still worried about his dad seeing the "new Jean." Ron told himself to relax. Dad couldn't read minds.

They entered through the front door, Ron carrying two suitcases, Frank carrying the blueprint tubes and his briefcase.

Ron said, "I'll put these down and get the other one, Dad."

"No rush. Let's have some juice or a soda in the kitchen first. Flying always makes me so damn thirsty. Where's Jean? Is she out doing something?"

"She said she was going to go to the store to pick up more stuff for dinner. We thought it would be nice to have a barbecue out on the patio, sit at the umbrella table. Steaks for you and me. Sort of a little welcome home party. I'll leave your bags by the stairs. A juice sounds good."

"Okay. I'll just put these things in the den." Frank went to the room he used as a home office, then made his way to the kitchen area, Ron was putting the bottle of cranberry juice back in the refrigerator. "Great. I was hoping there'd be cranberry." He glanced out the sliding door to the pool and abruptly stopped. His brow pinched. "Who's that pretty girl sitting on the edge of the pool?" He looked at the petite, slender girl, her back to him, shoulder length brunette hair, her seductive bubble butt very apparent in the skimpy bikini. Frank grinned. "Did you... did you get a girlfriend while I was away?"

"Huh?" Ron was beginning to lean over the sink to look out the window. His gut was already knotted. He thought Jean was out shopping. "Oh... there's... ahh... that's... that's Aunt Jean." He looked at his dad.

Frank's brow pinched again and his smile disappeared. "Really?"

Ron got more nervous. Maybe he had too enthusiastic regarding what he had said about Jean during the drive. "Yeah, that's... that's her." He leaned back and saw his dad's mouth begin to curve into a smile again.

Frank exhaled. "Finally. That's... that's great... I mean... I mean, she looks fantastic." He stepped to the glass door and pulled it open. "Jean? Is that you?"

Jean twisted around. She saw her b*****r. A grin instantly bloomed on her face. "Frank! I didn't expect you guys for at least another forty-five minutes!" She raised her legs out of the water and quickly stood up. "I was just going in to change and wait in front!" She trotted towards him as he walked towards her.

Frank's smile burgeoned into a grin. She had gained a tiny bit of weight and her curves were a little more womanly on her still very slender, petite body, but he was struck by how she looked so much like the girl she was a day before the accident. As they came closer she took off her stylish sunglasses, then her fingers her raked her hair away from her face. Her grin was beaming, her eyes sparkled directly into his. She raised her arms and encircled his neck with a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her back.

Jean spoke rapidly and excitedly, "How was the flight? You'll have to tell us all about it, and more about everything you did all summer. We talked on the phone every week but those calls weren't very long. Did you get to do more than work? You didn't mention much about that. Did you have any fun? I want to hear about all of it. Whatever you told Ron on the drive, you'll just have to repeat it for me!"

Frank's eyes welled to the brim as he chuckled and held her tighter. He didn't know how or why, nor did he care, he was just glad that after twelve years his little s****r had finally returned.

*****************************
THE END..
(comments welcome)
100% (66/0)
 
Posted by shaun4u
2 years ago    Views: 9,767
Comments (18)
Reply for:
Reply text
Please login or register to post comments.
1 day ago
wow.. (Y)
1 month ago
It's 2am here, I couldn't stop reading until it finished, your story would make a good movie.
3 months ago
SWEET & LOVELY Great story Thanks for the posting
8 months ago
very well written cant wait to read more of your work.
11 months ago
stunning sexy fun sad enlightening best I've read on here
11 months ago
absolutely awesome!! more romantic than porn. gotta admit i teared up a few times tho.
1 year ago
Oh .. my .. fucking .. God! I can't believe I only just now found this.
1 year ago
This is is d best story i have read till now it is not just fucking kind of shit but it is a true heart touching story a story about love romance and that kind of stuf.I got tears while getting near d climax of d story hats of 2 u. You shoud be profacinal romantac noble writter a one of its kind to write such a great
story
I wish wou woud write more about then their futcher how they finaly get toughter live as man an wife for rest of thear life
1 year ago
loved it!
1 year ago
+1 to evry other comment. this story was a really good one going a bit further than just porn
1 year ago
Great story, well written. and ditto to the other coments
army68
retired
1 year ago
beautiful story, thank you
2 years ago
Great Story
2 years ago
outstanding
2 years ago
Absolutely AWESOME! Thank you for sharing this amazing story.
2 years ago
That was a great story, the best!
2 years ago
I think this is the absolutely best story I have read in ten years. Oh, yeah, it is also a very effective sex read. I am most amazed, I guess, by the high moral values discussed and dealt with as well as the warmth of the story itself.
I am simply stuned! I actually afraid to read to the very end, thinking that Ron or Jean was going to get killed or God knows what. Silly, I guess but in general, I have noticed a vicious decline in nice porn. I know, but I simply mean that I used to enjoy reading to climax without guilt over the type of sex or the obligatory punishment for liking sex that seems to be seen more and more these days.
My hat is tipped to you, good writer and I would say you are gifted
ciao
2 years ago
Holy shit this story was fuckin awsome i got an aunt jean i wanna fuck and i tried but she flipped lol if this is real good for u, being disfigured is like having a mental prob inside im sure she was hot if it was real great story keep it cominH