I got my first taste of my aunt, Tracy, when I stayed with her and her husband five years ago. I was eighteen and my uncle gave me a job working for his construction firm for the summer before I headed off to college. Since my parents were trying to sort some problems out, I thought it would be best if I moved out of the state as early as possible. That's when my Dad's sister and her husband of ten years offered a room in their basement and a summer job. The taste came one morning when my aunt walked from the shower and into the kitchen wearing an open bath robe. My eyes, must have grown as large as the bulge in my jeans, but I can't tell you what her expression was because I stared at her breasts without hesitation or inhibition. Tracy just said that Mark, her husband, was waiting in the truck, and that I'd better get going. I think she spoke with an amused laugh.
Five years later, I graduated from college with an accounting degree and went to work in the big city. A week before my graduation in May, my fiancé broke off our engagement. I was demoralized and never seriously started dating anyone else. I was really fitting the accountant stereotype. Then came the family Christmas get-together the following winter, and I didn't want anything to do with any of them. My aunt Tracy called and said I could stay with her and Mark and that she may know a young someone who might be interested in going out. Remembering that morning in the kitchen, her soft breasts shaped by the white robe, I told her no-thanks, I was through with young women, but I would take her up on the offer to stay. Then she jokingly added that she thought I always had an eye for mature women.
The get together was as boring as I thought it would be. Who cares what my cousins or anyone else is doing for work, or when they're getting married, or how many kids they now have? I was looking forward to the tax deadlines.
When I got back to Tracy's house, Mark's truck wasn't in the garage. "Where'd Mark go?" I asked.
"He's a workaholic," Tracy responded. "He's out plowing driveways and private roads."
I looked outside and agreed the snow was coming down pretty good.
"Mark thinks money is everything," she continued. "We don't need it, but he works extra jobs anyways."
"I think he just likes to work," I said. "I don't think he cares what he gets paid doing the job." I sat on the rocker across from Tracy as she laid out on the sofa. "I remember working with him that summer, about five years ago, he'd let people get bargain prices, especially if they had more work for him."
Tracy had already changed into a short night shirt. Her long brown hair flowed out from the pillow, but I looked at her luscious, bare legs. My god, I wanted to feel those muscles and her soft skin in my hands. She interrupted me, "Well, I think he should pay attention to something else."
