Disclaimer: The following character, 'Aunt Claire' is not to be confused with Aunt Clare of the Unconventional Aunt series. Her name was one I picked out from random because it fit the image I had of her. In truth, Aunt Claire, her physical description is based on a beautiful, mature Russian porn actress called Dora, aka Olga.
If you see any errors in this story, please let me know. I'd appreciate it if you said it in a nice way instead of as being all harsh and saying 'This sucks dick and I'll never check out any of your other work because it's so bad.' I tried to keep an eye on the errors and I hope I caught enough of them. Remember that I have no computer and only a phone. That's why I make so many mistakes. Please let me know what you think and leave some feedback on the comments. And last but not least, the name is a jab at the tale where the step-mother/sister starts sleeping with the guy. The line is pretty common in English translated hentai.
*****
When I was growing up, I always believed in the whole 'love at first sight' thing; it was probably because, like many kids, I had grown up watching a lot of Disney movies, and sometimes the old 70's/80's live action fairy tale films.
Pathetic? I guess some people would probably say, especially when you grow up, and you start really noticing things and taking them into account, like how most couples aren't perfect, and how some don't even last at all.
I was about seven when I first met the girl I'd eventually come to call 'the love of my life', a pretty strawberry blonde with dark violet eyes, named Gina Stark. She really stood out from all the other girls that I had met that day, and she was probably the only one I remembered, since I just stared at her, unable to believe something so angelic existed.
She was the one who made the first move, and introduced herself to me, and I, in return, introduced myself to her.
We were quick to become friends, and as I would soon discover, she didn't just appear angelic, she WAS angelic; she was the sweetest thing I had ever seen, and was more than eager to strike up a conversation with me, despite the fact I was being extremely shy around her.
There were so many countless times that we'd just sit around in the field near Vagrant Park and just stare at the dandelions, and Gina, she'd even playfully blow them in my face, then start giggling afterwards; grinning up a storm.
We lost contact for a while because her mother wanted to get away from her father who wasn't exactly right in the head, and had been known to swing back and forth between a severe case of bipolar disorder.
I was about eleven when she left, and I had never been more depressed or feeling alone as I did that day that she hugged me and told me goodbye, and got in the Corvette and left. She was the only girl that I even cared about, back then.
So came life without Gina.
It took me a long time before I was able to get over her, but when I made a few new friends, most especially Jacob Winton, the suffering and torture that I pushed through everyday thinking about my first crush, the only girl who I was interested in and didn't think was icky or gross, had finally lessened to a really great extent.
I made quite a few friends, and of course I had a few girls who liked me, but I still couldn't seem to get into any of the girls who had crushes on me, even when they were brave enough to come step forward and make their feelings towards me known, loud and clear.
By the time I had hit Junior High, I had taken an interest in weightlifting, and since I was already pretty thin to begin with, pumping iron, doubled by the fact I was running back for the Phoenix's, it was pretty easy to put on a few pounds of muscle, especially since I ate healthy, with some fattening stuff every once in a while.
By the time I hit high school, I became a lot more different than I was as a child.
As a kid, I wasn't that brave and was pushed around and made fun of by other bigger, stronger kids.
Now that I was a lot bigger, in not just height, but muscle, too, I wasn't afraid of the bigger kids anymore, nor was I afraid to fight back when there was no other way out, and it was for this reason that I gained something of a recognition by the other students.
I didn't consider myself a cool badass, but I didn't consider myself weak or helpless, either.
I got into a few fights, and of course being crushed on continued, even though I wasn't interested in any of the girls there. Okay, there was one girl that I possibly considered giving a chance, she was a busty, bubbly preppie, but I soon found out that she wasn't the type of girl I wanted to be with, when I started hearing rumors about her being a huge slut.
I had just finished high school when I suddenly received a letter, and, much to my own excitement and joy, the letter was signed by Gina. She was coming back to Gainsroug. We caught up and discussed old times; I asked if she had gotten romantically involved during the time we had been separated from seeing each other, and she said no that she didn't have a boyfriend, that she was waiting to see me again.
We rekindled our crush from childhood, and from there it grew into something more than a crush; I had fallen in love with Gina. So we went from being friends to being what I had always wanted and dreamed of; boyfriend and girlfriend. Of course boyfriend and girlfriend was only temporary, and by the time I had hit twenty one, we became engaged. And now we were married.
The sound of my alarm clock filled my ears, and instantly my eyes popped open and groggily gazed over at the jet black, radio/alarm clock, and instantly I saw that the red letters said that it was seven.
"What day is it?" I half-asleep muttered to myself.
I slowly rose from the bed, and scratched the back of my head, while I thought for a few moments on the date, only to realize that it was Monday, and while that worried me because I was normally up a few hours earlier on Monday since I worked at five in the morning, I soon felt relieved when I remembered this was the beginning of my vacation.
I was getting really stressed out at work, not only was I becoming overwhelmed because we were getting so many hostile and demanding customers who were ready to start swinging, but this one girl there was starting to unnerve me, due to the fact she was the very definition of the word 'stalker'.
So I had been given about three weeks off so I could clear my head of all the bullshit I had been having to go through, and just spend time on myself.
Bringing my left hand to my mouth, I yawned, and then I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, and got out of the bed; stretching a long, good, few minutes before walking towards my night stand which was only two steps away.
I noticed that there was a new message on my answering machine.
Why would I have an answering machine in 2015, I'd been asked before; the answer was always the same: I liked having a little touch of the past in the present age.
Pressing the button, I listened to the message.
"Hi, hon. It's Aunt Claire. I was just calling to tell you Gina will be running late. She wanted to call and tell you herself, but asked me to do it instead. Expect her around three."
I shrugged and walked away.
"What the hell am I supposed to do till then?" I scratched the back of my head, gazing around my bedroom for something to do.
I always had a hard time keeping myself entertained, even though there were countless, well, maybe not countless, but multiple things, to do. My attention spam and severe pickiness was something among the lines of a pain in the ass.
First thing was first, though: Breakfast and a shower.
So I decided to head to my walk-in closet, gaze up at my poster of an almost-named Jenna Jameson who had her nipples covered by her elbows, and picked out a random outfit, startling on a short-sleeve green shirt with a chest pocket on the left, and had bleach circles from one time that I accidentally bleached it, and a pair of blue jeans that I era lily needed to throw away from the abused three years I had them.
I threw my clothes onto the bed and walked towards my bedroom door that was adorned with pictures I printed out of Spider-Man, and pulled on the knob, opening the door, and entering the hall.
The walls of the house that me and Gina shared together was mostly her idea; I went along with it to make her happy, although I suppose in truth I thought it's be a really unique and different look for a house, we're a tangerine yellow. Most of the walls in the house were that color, although, Gina wanted the place to look colorful, so she had bright purple painted on the living room walls and bathrooms with the tiled floor being tangerine yellow and purple.
We may have well had been living in a cartoon for little kids.
There we're times I looked around our house and felt like my masculinity was being sucked right out by a damn succubus. But I wasn't going to complain about it to her; whatever made her happy.
