He hadn't been back to her house in over fifteen years. After his two week stay, he had never been invited back. Her rejection hurt him at first. But then he realized it for what it truly was. Not a rejection. But an end. And end to his training. And end to his humiliation. And the beginning of his sexual journey.
That's how he always thought of the years since leaving her. A journey. He spent years trying to find a woman who would treat him like she did. He hadn't thought it would be too hard. He had found several women who he had thought would be the one to take her place. But unfortunately, none of them had ever worked out.
He had thought of her often during those years. He wondered how she would have reacted if he had just showed up on her doorstep. Would she be glad to see him? Would they take up where they had left off? Or would she tell him to go away? Tell him their time was over? Tell him she had moved on?
He had questioned his mother, several times after returning from the States and his failed attempt at marriage, what had become of her. All he was told that she had closed the up her house and moved to Spain. But now she was back. And so was he.
****
"How are you Nick?"
Nick turned at the sound of his name.
"Hello Caren." He said, leaning in and kissing her cheek.
Caren was Aunt Charlotte's youngest daughter. At forty, Caren was a striking woman and the only daughter that held a strong resemblance to her mother. Her blonde hair, inherited from her mother, was loose and wavy and fell to her shoulders. She was shorter than him, despite her heels. The black knee-length dress she wore clung to her curvy figure.
"Mom would be glad that you came. She spoke very fondly of you."
"Really?" He said, a bit surprised.
He hadn't thought Aunt Charlotte spoke of their time together. Oh, she mentioned that she had mentioned him to her friends, but he never thought family. Especially her daughter. God knew, he never brought up his visit here. Just the thought of Caren knowing what might have happened between him and her mother had his cock hardening in his jeans.
"Yes. She always said you were her favorite." Caren said, winked and then walked away.
Nick stood there and tried to make sense of what Caren had just told him. And then it hit him. She knew! Caren knew all about his two week stay with her mother. She knew what she had done to him. And to several others.
Nick put down his drink and went to find her again. He needed to know what his aunt had told her. Had she described every humiliating detail? Nick could feel his face flaming as the memories came rushing back.
****
He had just turned sixteen and gotten in with the wrong crowd. His parents had their hands full with his three younger siblings when his uncle's ex-wife called up to ask for some summer help with the house she was renovating. His mother immediately offered Nick's services. Afterall, it would get him away from "that crowd" as she put it and give him some time to decide where his life was going.
So, he was packed up and sent off to live with Aunt Charlotte. He hadn't seen her in years and had a hard time remembering what she looked like. The train ride to Richmond was long and it gave him plenty of time to imagine what his fifty-something year old aunt would want to do. Plant a garden, hang some curtains, clean the house, be her companion....
Nick shuddered at that thought. Two weeks of hanging around a musty old house with a musty old lady, listening to her bitch and moan about her rotten ex-husband was not the summer kick off he had imagined. And yet, here he was. Going from train to taxi, up to the secluded home she had gotten in the divorce.
Nick shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder and rang the bell. He waited five minutes them rang it again.
"Oh wonderful." He muttered, imaging her needing a walker to make it the door.
He as about to press it again when the door suddenly opened.
"You must be Nick?" She said with a welcoming smile.
"Uh...yeah." He answered, blinking his eyes quickly, taking in the woman before him.
"Come in, close the door and follow me."
She turned and walked down the hallway. The heels of her black, leather, thigh high boots, clicked on the polished hardwood floor.
Oh Shit!, Nick thought. He stepped through the door, closed it and followed her down the hall to a small room. His eyes were focused on the rounded, barely covered ass in front of him. The black leather thong matched the bustier perfectly. When she turned to face him, his eyes fastened on her generous breasts, barely contained.
"Sit down."
Nick dropped his bag and quickly sat in the chair facing her. She went to the table, picked what looked like a riding crop up, and smacked it loudly in the palm of her hand.
"Now Nick, you're mom tells me you have fallen in with a rather rough crowd."
"Yeah."
"Yes ma'am."
"Yes ma'am" He repeated, watching as she began to circle his chair.
"Do you know why you are here?"
"To help my old aunt out."
She laughed. A melodic sound that sent goosebumps over his skin.
"Old huh?" She lifted her arms out and turned around before him. "Do I look old?"
Nick could only shake his head. She was Aunt Charlotte? His uncle was in his late fifties, which meant she would be around the same age. However, she didn't look like a woman in her fifties. Her body was still toned and tight. Her breasts still round and full. Except for a few wrinkles around her smiling blue eyes, she could easily pass for a woman in her late thirties, early forties.
"You haven't answered me Nick. Do I look old?"
"No ma'am."
