Auntie Jenn Ch 06

Hope and Forgiveness

I lay in bed, my hands behind my head, staring at the dark ceiling. Auntie was in the shower trying to wash away the horror she must have felt this evening. Her physical assault and near rape had quite shaken her, and I sincerely hoped she was all right.

I was very relieved that she had hugged me earlier--the first hint of affection she had shown me since last night. It gave me a little bit of hope that she might even eventually allow me to apologize for my egregious behavior.

When the sound of the shower was turned off, I heard her leave the bathroom and go into her bedroom. I sighed heavily and closed my eyes, hoping she would be able to sleep well.

Several minutes later, I was startled by a soft knock on my door. The door opened and Auntie stepped into my room wearing only a bath towel wrapped around her torso. Wordlessly, she approached and knelt beside my bed.

"Auntie..." I began.

"No," she interrupted, "please... let me speak." She paused briefly, seemingly gathering her thoughts. "I... have no words, Jamie," she said softly, "I'm not sure exactly how to say it, Jamie, because there are no words that can adequately express my gratitude for what you did for me tonight."

As she spoke, she grasped my hand in both her hands, raising it to her lips and kissing my hand tenderly.

"I only did what anybody would have done in that situation, Auntie," I replied. "I couldn't just stand there and let them hurt you."

Auntie shook her head, "No, Jamie, I don't think that's true. Not everyone would have done what you did tonight. Most would have just probably called the police... or run away to look for help.

She kissed my hand again, "You... my little superhero, my knight in shining armor, you attacked those men... those two BIG men. You put yourself in harm's way to help me. You may have even saved my life."

She was silent momentarily, leaning over the bed to lay her forehead against my hand. "And... all the way home... all I could think about was how badly I treated you last night."

She raised her head and looked into my eyes, "I can only hope that someday you might be able to find it within yourself to forgive this... this stupid, stupid woman."

"No, Auntie..." I gasped, rolling onto my side to face her. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Last night was completely my fault. You said no... and I didn't listen. And, ever since it happened last night, I've been trying to find some way to apologize to you for what I did."

She shook her head adamantly, "I should have been a little more understanding," she said, giving me an imploring look. "It was your first time and... and you just got caught up in the moment. Any man would have probably done the same thing, honey. It's not your fault, it's human nature, and I should have realized."

"But, Auntie..." As I began to protest, she placed her fingertips over my lips to stifle me.

"I just want you to know that... if I had last night to do all over again, I would have given myself to you completely and even encouraged you to do more. I would have made love with you all night long if that's what you needed from me."

I swallowed, not knowing what to say as my heart swelled with affection for her.

"Tonight opened my eyes, Jamie," she continued. "Tonight... I saw you as the man you'll become. And I was SO proud of you."

As she spoke she leaned forward and brought her lips to mine, kissing me gently, little more than a brush of her lips against mine. She had done so on many previous occasions over the years, little brief pecks on the lips that were always nothing more than just familial affection. But there was something in the way she had just kissed me that sent a jolt of arousal through me--and I wanted more.

"Auntie?" I began, but again she stilled my lips.

"Your Auntie's not here right now, Jamie," she whispered, kissing my lips lightly once again. "I'm here... "she whispered, kissing me a third time, her lips lingering a little longer. "And my name is Jennifer."

She kissed me once more and her lips parted. Her hand caressed my cheek as our kiss became more passionate and our tongues touched. I surrendered myself completely to the beauty of her kiss, her lips molding to mine ever so sensually as our tongues mingled, the tip tracing my upper lip.

I was instantly hard and shivering with pleasure as her hand moved down over my stomach to rest on the bulge of my erection beneath the blankets, and began to caress me gently.

"I want you, Jamie," she gasped as she pulled her lips from mine, "More than I've ever wanted a man before... I want everything you have to give me, honey. I want it all."

She pulled back my bedding as she trailed her lips down my neck to my chest. She cradled my erection in her hand, squeezing tenderly as her tongue circled each of my nipples. When her tongue reached my navel, I shivered with excitement. God, I had NEVER been so completely inflamed with desire for her.

I gasped aloud with pleasure as she took me into her mouth, holding me firmly with only her lips, her tongue swirling over and around the tip of my cock as her hand cupped and caressed my balls tenderly.

"Oh, God," I gasped, "If you don't stop... you're going to make me cum, Auntie."

She plunged her mouth onto me rapidly as she continued to caress my balls, her intent obvious, she WANTED me to cum this way--in her mouth.

I arched my back as my orgasm began to swell, moving my hips beneath her head as she continued to plunge her mouth onto me almost hungrily.

"Auntie!... oh, AUNTIE!" I cried as my first ejaculation erupted into her mouth. I cried out to her with each succeeding eruption of semen, "Auntie!... Auntie!... Oh, God, Auntie!"

As the last of my semen oozed from me, she pulled her mouth from me with a gasp of her own, pulling off her towel and moving onto the bed beside me. "Auntie's not here tonight," she whispered, rising to straddle me. "I'm here, Jamie."

I felt her hand grasp my erection and guide it to her vagina. She groaned pleasurably as she settled onto me, taking the full length of my cock inside her.

She sat astride me, moving her hips rapidly. I grasped her hips, holding her to me as her hips moved even faster, her breathing becoming even more accelerated as she reached orgasm--crying out in her pleasure--tossing her head from side to side, her hair whipping her face as she let herself go, her thighs trembling uncontrollably.

We lay side by side afterward, her leg thrown over mine as she nestled her head on my shoulder.

"I'm a little envious of the girls you're going to meet in California, honey," she spoke softly as she caressed my chest. "You're a wonderful lover."

I laughed softly, "Me? Auntie, you're the one who did all of the lovemaking tonight."

"Maybe so," she responded, "But last night... you did me perfectly--just the way I like it... and gave me such a beautiful, beautiful orgasm."

She raised her face to mine, looking into my eyes. "Also... when we're alone together like this... I'd like it very much if you'd call me Jennifer. Around your mom and dad though, you should probably still call me Auntie."

She spent the night with me in my room and we made love twice more before morning. I awoke to find she had gone and got out of bed. Auntie returned as I was dressing, carrying a bundle of laundry in her arms.

"Help me strip the bottom sheet off of your bed, honey," she said as she pulled the top sheet and blanket away to reveal how badly the bottom sheet had been stained with semen. It looked almost obscene.

"I know Jo regularly strips your sheets for washing and I don't want her to find them in this condition. I'll add them to my laundry pile and do a quick load of washing this morning."

We made quick work of stripping the sheet and Auntie hustled out of the room with the pile of laundry. "You should hurry," she said over her shoulder, "Your folks are already in the kitchen."

Breakfast was its usual calmly chaotic affair as Mom rushed around making sure everyone had coffee and the breakfast she had prepared--diced potatoes with eggs and cheese, one of my favorites.

"Well I'll be damned," said my dad, looking up from his morning newspaper. "What was your boyfriend Michael's last name?" he asked, looking at Auntie.

"Connor," she said with a shrug, "and you know he's no longer my boyfriend."

"Maybe this is him then," said Dad, returning his gaze to the newspaper. "Is he by any chance from Stockton, California?"

"He is," said Auntie with a furrowed brow.

"Well, according to this article," he continued, reading aloud, "Two men were arrested this morning after a bar fight in the east part of the city. Both men had been hospitalized. A Michael Connor of Stockton, California, was taken into custody at the hospital after it was discovered he had two outstanding warrants from Stockton for aggravated sexual assault and rape. The other man, Clyde Morrison, a member of the Mongols Motorcycle Club, required extensive facial surgery and was also arrested in connection with illegal gun running and outstanding drug trafficking charges." Dad looked up from the newspaper, "Apparently, the bar in question was way out on East Hollywood Avenue."

"East Hollywood?" said Auntie, feigning great surprise, giving me a knowing look. "We must have driven right past that bar last night."

"There, you see?" said Mom, admonishing Auntie with a wag of her finger. "I told you it was dangerous in that part of town at night. It's a good thing Jamie was with you at least."

Auntie smiled and reached across the table to pat my hand affectionately. "It WAS a good thing he was with me last night," she said, "It was good to have his company. I'm glad you suggested it, Jo."

After breakfast, Auntie tossed her cleaned laundry into the dryer. When the cycle was finished, I followed her to my room where we remade my bed. "I think it might be best if we sleep in my bed from now on," said Auntie. "Your mom never bothers with my sheets... I've always done my own laundry."

Until that moment, I had been unsure how Auntie felt about continuing the intimacy she had initiated last night. The sex last night had been incredible and I sincerely hoped she might wish there would be more. When she said we should sleep in her bed 'from now on', my heart soared. I didn't have that much longer before I would be off to college, and it excited me to think I might be sleeping with Auntie until then.

Neither Auntie nor I got much sleep for the next two nights. I'm sure she must have thought me sexually demented because I was at her constantly. I couldn't seem to get enough of her beautiful vagina. I would reach orgasm and be ready to go again a few minutes later.

And, bless her heart, Auntie was always ready and willing, she never turned me away, and even encouraged me more often than not. I filled her with my semen, often losing count of how many times I released into her during the night. In the mornings she smiled--almost proudly--at all of the stains we had made on her sheets.

She taught me several different sexual positions as well, she especially liked it from the rear, doggy style, on her hands and knees. I would grasp her hips and thrust into her forcefully. If I maintained my erection after cumming, she would often have multiple orgasms in that position, sometimes collapsing her arms and crying out loudly as she came, her face muffled into her pillow.

I especially loved the missionary position though. Nothing excited me more than to gaze into her eyes as she reached orgasm, and I loved the sensation of her arms and her legs wrapped tightly around me as I released into her.

She also taught me how to make love to a woman with my mouth and tongue, explaining the correct way to tenderly focus on a woman's clitoris with the tip of my tongue.

"You're welcome to practice on me anytime you like," she said with a lascivious smile--and I most certainly did. I never tired of bringing her to orgasm that way, sometimes her hips would buck so violently when she came, I was forced to wrap my arms around her hips to keep my mouth in place.

But, it wasn't entirely about sex. We would often just snuggle together and talk. In those quieter moments, she really opened up to me, relating her remembrances and telling me of her life--and her loves. It was wonderfully endearing to talk with her as one adult to another. She held nothing back, telling me about her heartbreaking miscarriage, that led to the breakup with her fiance--her depression and a close call with drug addiction--and a second pregnancy from a one-night stand that ended with an abortion when it was discovered the fetus was deemed untenable.

When I asked if she was at all concerned about a pregnancy with her and I engaging in so much sex, she smiled wistfully. "At my age, it's probably unlikely to happen," she said. "But... if it did, nothing would give me more pleasure than to have your baby, Jamie."

Our lovemaking was especially sweet and poignant that night. I looked deeply into her eyes as I began to release into her--flooding her vagina with my semen--and a thrill coursed through me to imagine how THIS time I could be making her pregnant.

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She also often queried me about my plans for the future. She was curious--and a little concerned--about the viability of my music major path and, in all honesty, I had begun to question that career direction as well.

I had played music from a very early age--my parents enrolled me in piano lessons when I was eight years old--and I had always enjoyed it. The idea of making music a career choice was something I had always had in the back of my mind. But then, as college approached, the idea of making music a career began to feel more like a fanciful notion, and I started to think about it more practically. Realistically, I came to realize that a music career required a level of dedication to the craft that I wasn't so sure I possessed.

Auntie would always nod thoughtfully whenever I expressed my doubts and insecurities about my future and encouraged me to delve deeper into my feelings. It would be nice to think that a degree in music would enrich me and make me financially solvent, but it often seemed rather unlikely. The musicians I knew always seemed to struggle.

"In all honesty, Jennifer," I confessed one evening, "Going off to college was never something I really wanted to do anyway."

"Oh?" she prodded with a raised eyebrow.

"I think it was more like... something I felt obligated to do," I continued. "Go it alone out into the world, spread my wings, and follow a career path that I really enjoyed... but wasn't sure I really wanted anymore. All my friends seemed to have their career trajectories ironed out long ago and were excited about it and... well, I guess I felt like I had to be doing the same thing."

"And now?" said Auntie. "How are you feeling now?"

I shrugged and sighed heavily, "Now? I think I'm not even sure I want to go to college at all. I don't really want to go anywhere... I like it here. But then I think to myself... what am I going to do with the rest of my life? Get a job bagging groceries and living with my mom and dad. Wow... what a major babe magnet I would be then, huh?"

Auntie laughed softly and wrapped me in her arms comfortingly. I realized then that... right now, lying here with my Auntie Jennifer, I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.

"Oh, honey," she said, stroking my back affectionately, "any girl who would ever think less of you for something as superficial as your job, your social standing, or even where you live... is a girl you would be infinitely better off without."

I raised my head to look into her eyes, "I wish I could just stay here with you."

She smiled, seemingly pleased by my sentiment. "So... why don't you?"

I blinked, unsure I had heard her right, "What?"

"I'm saying," she continued, "if you don't really want to go off to college, then why do it? Have you already spent the money on tuition?"

I shook my head, "They said it would be due at registration."

Auntie smiled, "You know, there is a business philosophy that suggests student loans and tuition money far outweigh the benefits of a college degree. Once a student graduates, it takes years to pay back the loans. Some say that working in a trade for the years one would spend at a college or university, would be infinitely more financially rewarding in the long run."

I nodded, having heard much the same thing from some of my high school teachers. "Yeah, but a trade? I really have no experience that way either."

"You know..." said Auntie, pursing her lips thoughtfully, "I have an idea that might interest you. If you go off to college, you'll be away for four years to get your degree, correct?"

When I nodded, she continued, "What if I told you that in four years you could be very close to being financially stable and even own your own home?"

"You mean, like how you did?" I asked.

Auntie nodded, "Exactly. Here, let me show you what I mean."

She reached into her bedside drawer and brought out her real estate papers showing the current listings for the greater Las Vegas area. We looked through them together for a few minutes until she rested her finger on a particular house listing.

"This looks like a good prospect," she said. "It's only ninety-eight thousand dollars. A three-bedroom bungalow. An older house in a newer subdivision."

She went on to explain how an enterprising house flipper would purchase this house for ninety-eight thousand, put a little time and effort into a few relatively inexpensive repairs and renovations, and then re-list it a few months later.

"Judging by the other property values in this area," she said, "I think you could easily list it for a hundred and thirty to a hundred and forty thousand. Netting a profit of thirty to forty thousand dollars. You could then take that profit and reinvest it into another house--rinse and repeat. In a few short years, you could potentially make a lot of money for yourself and even own your own home."

I laughed and shrugged, "Sounds easy enough, Auntie. But I don't have ninety-eight thousand dollars."

"That's the beauty of it, honey," she said with a broad smile, "You don't need ninety-eight thousand dollars... all you need is a down payment. Have you got at least a thousand dollars?"

I nodded, "I probably have four or five thousand saved up for my tuition," I said. "But I don't know a damn thing about buying and selling houses."

"But I DO," said Auntie with a broad smile. "And nothing would make me happier than to help you get started. It worked for me, and I'm sure it can work for you too."

I smiled, it seemed like a wonderful proposition--I would even be able to stay home. "But, what about Mom? She'll be more than a little disappointed if I don't get a college education."

Auntie laughed aloud, "Are you kidding? I know my sister, almost better than she knows herself. And right now she worried sick about the thought of you leaving her nest."

I couldn't help but smile as Auntie's idea seemed to be lifting a weight from my shoulders. When I expressed my interest in investigating the possibilities, Auntie smiled. "Okay," she said, "Why don't we go and take a look at this house tomorrow?"

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And that is exactly what we did. She drove to the property in question and she looked it over from the car to get a feel for its curb appeal. It was a little disheartening at first, appearing to need a great deal of work.

But Auntie only smiled and assured me that the house's exterior was purely cosmetic. "A coat of paint and a bit of landscaping will add a lot to the house's appearance and curb appeal... and raise the property value."