My Mom's sister, Lisa, was ten years younger than Mom and ten years older than me. She was a teen during the 60's and was a typical Elvis Presley movie type teen girl. She wore the tight mid-calf length pants, the tight sweaters and uplifting, cross your heart, pointy shaping bra underneath, and the cloth hair bands. I think she tried looking like Sandra Dee.
She was my babysitter and a fun one too. She would spend a lot of time with me, spinning 45's and doing the Twist. She also liked to wrestle with me and tickle me. Aunt Lisa would always kiss me and hug me. She told me that she is going to wait to get married, and then when I got old enough, she was going to marry me.
That proved to be false though when she met Tim, and married him. I was about ten years old then. It wasnât too devastating, I had reached an age where I knew that aunts did not marry nephews. (at least not in the state that I lived in). When her and âUncle Timâ got married, they rented a place next door to the elementary school that I attended. My mom was a stay at home mom, and we only had one car, that my dad used to commute to work. So, if I got sick at school, it was convenient for me to go to Aunt Lisaâs instead of my mom trying to come get me. I faked a belly ache a lot of times in order to go to Aunt Lisaâs for ½ a school day. She would give me hot soup and orange juice, and it miraculously cured me right up.
When I would go to Aunt Lisaâs, the wrestling and tickling days were over, but she still wanted that hug and kiss from me when I arrived and when I left. She liked to sleep in, and I always timed my ½ day of sickness around 11:00am, about the time she was just waking up. Back then, it was safe for a child to leave school and not be escorted. The school nurse would call my mom and then call Aunt Lisa and let her know I was on my way over. She would greet me at the door with a hug and a kiss. A lot of times she would be in a terry cloth robe, since she was just getting out of bed about that time. Our routine usually was that she would heat me up a can of soup and pour me a glass of OJ and then she would go take a shower while I was eating.
After her shower, she would dry off and put her robe back on. She would let me come into her bedroom with her and I would sit and talk to her while she fixed her hair and put her makeup on. Her robe was loose fitting, and gapped open a lot in the front when she lifted her arms to apply makeup or do something with her hair. How I strained to peek inside to catch a glimpse of her breasts, but dare not get caught.
My lucky break came one day with the break of the OJ bottle. She had just stepped into the bathroom to get her shower, when I accidentally dropped the glass bottle of OJ on the floor and it shattered everywhere. Aunt Lisa came running, hitching up her robe on the way. She quickly grabbed some paper towels and began sopping up the OJ. I began picking up the larger shards of glass. We were both on our hands and knees, facing each other. I could look straight down her robe and see both of her large breasts. (one time I took her bra out of the clothes hamper and read the tag: 38C) Ah man, I was in heaven. I donât know if she knew what I was seeing or not, but she made no attempt close her robe any. It was wonderful.
A year or so later, my Grandmother passed away, and something took place that caused a fight between my mom and Aunt Lisa. They went years on non-speaking terms, and I did not see Aunt Lisa during this time. The only thing I knew about her and Uncle Tim was that they moved from the apartment and bought a place with several acres of woods.
I enjoyed hunting, but my hunting was confined to the fields and woods near my home. When I turned 18, I started driving to seek better places to hunt. One season I was in the area where Aunt Lisa lived, so I decided to drop by and see if I could hunt on their property. I knocked at the door and Aunt Lisa answered it. She had put some weight on since I seen her last, had her hair bleached and cut short, above her ears.
This was the 1970âs now. She had on tight polyester slacks, that brought attention to the extra inches her butt had attained. She also on an all too tight rayon blouse. Erect nipples outlined through the fabric was a dead give away of a braless Aunt. The buttons were straining to stay fastened, and I could see hints of pink flesh through the gaping openings of the blouse.
I smiled when I saw her, and said, âHI!! Remember me?â She smiled in return and said, âSure!!! Give your old Aunt her hug and kiss.â (All of 28yrs old) She invited me inside, and I asked about hunting, she said sure, but offered me coffee and we sat and talked the rest of the day. I never did make it out hunting. I found out that Uncle Tim had to work two jobs, so he wasnât home from 6:00am until 9:00pm. She enjoyed my company and having somebody to talk to. Our Aunt/Nephew relationship was renewed and I made it habit to stop in and visit her a couple of times a week.
I was a shy and backwards teenage boy, and Aunt Lisa loved to tease me about girls and sex to embarrass me. She liked to make me smile so she could see my, as she put it, âboyish smile that will break a lot of young girlâs hearts.â Her conversations always led to sex. Graphic conversations too. She asked me if I ever kissed a girl yet, I said no. She said she would love to teach me, but it just wouldnât be right.
One day she was telling me about the theory that the length of a manâs fingers gives a girl an idea of what the manâs penis size is. She held up her index and middle fingers, slowly stroking them with the other hand. Said if she was a man, she would be well hung. She wanted me to show her my two fingers. I looked at them first, and said âshort and stubby. Guess I donât stand a chance with the girls.â She told me penis size doesnât matter as much as the size of the heart of the man it is attached to. That made me feel good, because I never felt I had a big manhood.