My Aunt Drew

It's been a while since I did an incest story and I've never done an aunt-nephew story. I decided, 'why not', and set about writing this ditty. It's a three-part story with all three parts done minus a few more reads on 2 and 3 for missing words, misused words and spelling.

I've had a lot of new followers over the last few months, thank you. If you're reading my older stories as well as the more recent you'll find missing words, misspelled words, grammatical errors, run on sentences and first person-third person errors. Oh, and one guy was kind enough to point out the misuse of a noun. Gosh, I was gutted by that critique, NOT. I've attempted to address all these issues and more as I continue to write. Hopefully you'll find it in your heart to try looking past the discrepancies and enjoy the story.

My Aunt Drew part one

I never knew my dad. He married mother a week before he shipped to the European theater. They were together ten days before he shipped out. Long enough to make a baby, me. He was a part of the invasion forces on D-Day, a rigor he survived, only to be blown to bits by a land mine four months later while crossing a meadow. I was born in 1945 and lived as an only child, mother never wanted to marry again. My maternal grandparents owned the local general store in our tiny community, next door to the local butcher shop. It was a lucrative setting for both businesses as customers tended to drift from one to the other.

As a child I was sick more than not, often referred to as "sickly" by grandparents and the towns people. I never participated in sports of any kind and had very few friends. There were no computers or the like in those days, if I wasn't helping in the store my time was spent reading books. My growth had been stunted to the point that by the time I reached my 14

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birthday and no longer sickly, I was still only five foot three and weighed 104 pounds. Those statistics didn't change much, by the time I'd reached my 18

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birthday I weighed 122 pounds and was only five foot five when I graduated.

As long as I could remember mother worked for her parents at the store. Her folks had retired when I was 13, mother took over the store even though her parents still owned it. As a young teen my evenings and weekends were spent in the store stocking shelves, cleaning up, carrying groceries out to someone's vehicle or horse drawn wagon. In my 17

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year things began to go downhill for my mother. It was determined that she had breast cancer so advanced she didn't live to see my 18

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birthday.

When mother became too ill to work grandpa stepped back in to run the store but was in failing health as well. After mom died I lived with my grandparents. I remember the night he died sitting at the dinner table. His head flew back, he grasped his chest and flopped forward onto his plate. Dead. Grandma was in better health than he was but not much. Grandma decided she would sell the store and move to the county home for the aged. Or as it would be referred to in this day, a nursing home. The question was, what to do with me?

I had been staying with a close friend of mothers since the store had been sold. With two months of school left until graduation it still wasn't clear what would become of me. It was after the store sold that I learned something I'd never known. My mother had a younger sister, younger by three years. None of my family had ever mentioned her name, which happened to be Drew.

My high school graduating class had a total of 57 kids, 28 boys and 29 girls. For a town of 208 people and about another 100 in the countryside that was normal. There were no large, consolidated school districts at that time. It was at graduation that I first met Aunt Drew. She lived four states away, not married, owned a greenhouse and flower supply business that she'd built on her own. Though grandma came to my graduation, she didn't sit with Aunt Drew, which made me wonder what might have happened all those years ago. I had my license and was driving mom's old 1943 Plymouth four door sedan. Taking grandma back to the county home I asked why I had never met my aunt before.

"It's a long story Leroy. One I don't want to talk about and one you don't want to hear. The reason she's here is to take you home with her. I won't live much longer, with your dad's family already gone you have no other relatives who can take you in. Half of the inheritance will go to Drew and half to you when I kick the bucket. Then you can do whatever you want, but until then you're going to live with your aunt."

You didn't argue with your grandparents in 1963, not unless you were what was referred to as a rebel. It was simple, I was going to do as I was told until I was old enough to go out on my own. I sold the Plymouth, packed the few belongings and pictures I cared about and loaded it in the back of Drew's 1959 Chevy pickup. Drew didn't come in with me to say goodbye to grandma the morning we left, little did I know that I would never see her alive again.

It would take us two days to reach aunt Drews home. There were no motel stops, we slept on the ground in sleeping bags next to the truck just inside the opening of a corn field off the main road. It was on that ride I had my first encounter with a McDonalds. They were a new chain and growing rapidly. The burgers and fries were 15 cents, citing the fact that I was what she called skinny she ordered two of each for me. With a 30-cent milkshake I was on top of the world.

As we traveled I took notice of my aunt. I was surprised that she and my mother looked so much alike, her hair was the same deep brown as mom's. She possessed the same delicate facial features as mom's, she was basically the same height but had a sturdier body. Whereas my mom was thin and on the frail side aunt Drew was stocky, I'd heard gramps describe women built like her as 'big boned'. Like him, rugged and thick in the chest. Her shoulders were more like a man's than a woman's, her hands showed signs of hard work, it was obvious she didn't live a life of luxury. I'd never seen callouses like hers on a woman.

Her figure was similar to mother's although mom's hips were a bit wider, what did look the same though was her bust. I'd peeked at mom's bras a time or two and knew she wore a 34B with pointy cups. I would learn later in life they were referred to as bullet bras. From the few days I'd known her she seemed to dress in the same fashion mom had. Simple cotton dresses or a skirt and blouse, I wondered if she wore stockings like mom had. Which made me think she probably wore a garter belt like mom. Or maybe she wore some of those pantries with straps like I'd seen in the Sears catalog. I lost track of how many times I had masturbated looking at women's underwear in that catalog.

I don't think we said more than 50 words between us that first day. It was the following morning that things opened up a little. Walking toward the pines on the edge of the field she told me to turn and look at the road, she was going to pee and didn't want me to watch. It was on that leg of our journey I found out more of what had happened years before. It was she who broke the barrier of silence.

"So. What do you prefer? Roy, or Leroy?" She asked.

I wasn't sure how to respond, I had never been called anything but Leroy.

"Umm, nobody has ever called me Roy, just Leroy."

There was no such thing as nerds back then, her next statement described me to a T.

"You're a square aren't you boy. I don't imagine you've ever kissed a girl or had a girlfriend either. You don't look the type to romance a girl."

I'm not sure why I opened up, but I did. "No ma'am. I've never kissed a girl, and you're right, I'm a square, girls don't go out with dorks like me."

I decided to push the envelope. "Why didn't my mom or grandparents ever tell me I had an aunt? I asked but grandma wouldn't tell me."

She didn't say anything for several miles. "That's a long story Roy. Sure you wanna hear it?" I nodded.

"I was 15 when your mom married your dad. What nobody talks about is that he was only 17 when they got hitched and I had been his girlfriend. He wanted to get in my pants before he left for the Army and I wouldn't let him, so he went after my sister. She'd never had a boyfriend and was more than willing to marry him before he shipped out. I was a few months of 17 and immature enough that when I found out he was dead my life went into a tailspin. That's where the downward spiral of my life began."

I was confused, "I don't understand Aunt Drew. What does that mean your life went into a tailspin?"

"Alright Roy. Let's get this straightened out right now. I'm not your aunt anything. You need to call me Drew otherwise this isn't gonna work. I plan to call you Roy so you may as well get used to the changes. By tailspin I mean I went off the rails. By my 17

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birthday I was known as the town bike, you know, the one everybody rides. Mom and dad, along with your mom, were furious with my behavior. I brought great shame to my family, so much so that the minute I graduated high school I was handed a bus ticket to Omaha and given one hundred dollars along with instructions to never return. No one tried to understand, console me, comfort me, or get me help in any way, it was easier to get rid of me."

I muttered, "Holy shit." Drew looked at me with sternness, frowned and wagged her finger in my face.

"That's something else. I don't care for swearing, sure it pops out now and then, but I don't like it. Let that be a warning."

It was a hot day in early summer, we had the windows open, the wings were pointed toward us. From the corner of my eye I watched as she hitched her dress up mid-thigh and tucked the edges under her opened legs. With a loud sigh she quipped.

"Damn it's hot, and boy does that fresh air feel good. Mind you keep your eyes where they belong Roy. I might only be 34 and a woman but I'll box your ears in."

I found her amusing. On the one hand she chastised me for cussing, ten minutes later she hiked her dress up far enough for me to see the soft flesh of her thighs in an effort to keep her crotch cool. She opened one more button on the top of the dress, fanning it back and forth a few times. I caught the slight glimpse of a white bra but nothing more. Yes, living with my aunt was definitely going to be interesting.

We arrived late afternoon, had the truck unpacked and my stuff in a room at the top of the stairs. Her room and the bathroom were on the main level. She was most proud of the fact that she had indoor plumbing which had been put in three summers' prior. The wooden outhouse still stood at the back of the property unused and slowly being overtaken by vines. I slept late that first day, then wandered around a bit and stayed out of the way, it was how I had always lived. Just a shadow. I wasn't sure what was expected of me at that point. Over supper Drew let me know.

"You should be settled in so here's how it's going to work Roy. I'm up at 5:30, you will be as well. I'm in the greenhouse by 6:15, you will be as well. We take a break and eat breakfast around 8. I have a lady that comes in Tuesday through Friday to cook and help me keep the house in order. She has Mondays off, that's why she wasn't here today. We're back in the greenhouse by 8:30 when the rest of the workers show up. They work until 5, we work until six. I'll pay you a buck an hour along with free room and board. Consuelo washes clothes on Tuesday, make sure yours are in the laundry room by Monday evening."

Following supper she watched the tv while I sat across the room with my nose in a book. She had changed from work clothes into what appeared to be cotton pajamas and a robe. The jammies were white with lots of little flowers throughout. At precisely nine o'clock she stood, walked over to the tv, turned it off and looked at me.

"It's bedtime Roy. Five thirty is gonna come mighty early the first few days until you get used to it. Wear clothes that you don't mind getting dirty tomorrow, you'll be potting plants all day."

She hadn't seen my wardrobe or she would have known the only nice clothes I possessed were the ones I had graduated in. Sleep came as fast as five thirty did, I faintly heard my bedroom door open and turned my head toward the sliver of light. Aunt Drew stuck her head in.

"Five thirty Roy. Time to get up. I'm through in the bathroom, it's all yours. Just so you know, my bath comes before yours. There are some donuts left from Saturday, grab one of those and a glass of milk, that'll get you through until breakfast."

The coffee had finished percolating by the time I reached the kitchen. I found it interesting that she was wearing a skirt and blouse instead of dungarees. No nylons, socks and ankle high work boots. Her hair was pulled to the sides in pigtails, she looked cute as all get out.

"Aunt Drew. Do you mind if I have coffee with a donut instead of milk?"

Looking up from the notepad she was scribbling on a scowl came across her face, "What I tell you about that aunt crap? Don't worry, I know it's the way you were taught, and no, I don't care if you prefer coffee. You'll get ahold of not calling me aunt as the days go by. One thing though, I'm not your aunt in the greenhouses, I'm Miss Drew. That's what all the others call me, you should to."

Her business included not only seasonal flora and fauna but cut flowers as well. Therefore new plantings took place year-round, which is what I started doing that first morning. She worked with me until it was time for breakfast which didn't come soon enough as hungry as I was. Consuelo was a beautiful lady from Mexico. She had come with her family for seasonal work many years prior. While working in the greenhouses she met a local guy whom she married. She and her husband had been with Drew nine years and had a 7-year-old daughter.

As Consuelo was setting a plate in front of me I was thinking about how the first 4 days of my new life had been more interesting than the previous 18 years. At home or my grandparents it had always been cereal, or oatmeal, once in a while eggs and bacon with toast, never much more. In front of me was what I had always imagined a farm breakfast would look like. There were two pancakes, two eggs, three sausage patties, fried potatoes, and toast so slathered with butter the bread looked soggy.

Drews plate had far less than mine. With a grin on her face she watched me eat as though it was going to be my last meal. When I finished I sat back and patted my stomach. Consuelo smiled.

"You eat like a man, but you look like a boy. Maybe you don't eat enough before you come here. Consuelo fix that."

Walking back to the greenhouses Drew mentioned what Consuelo had said.

"She's right you know. You eat hardy like a man would, but you look like a boy. What gives?"

"I was sickly when I was small. That stunted my growth, on top of that mother was afraid I would get hurt and wouldn't let me do all the stuff other kids did. I became an outcast and spent most of my existence doing odd jobs at the store or with my nose in a book."

"So. You come by the title of being a square honestly. You look puny, but we'll get some meat on those bones, you aren't done growing yet. Working out here and Consuelo's cooking will help you grow into a man."

The workers had not only arrived but were hard at it. They were an interesting mix, seven Spanish people, a few black ladies and half a dozen assorted different nationality white people. By today's standards it would be called a diversified workplace, back then it was just a bunch of people from different backgrounds working at the same place. I was put with the two black ladies, Connie and Alice, along with one of the Spanish ladies, Carmen. Comparted to my lumbering efforts they had planting down to a science moving with speed and precision.

In ways Drew was way ahead of the game concerning employees and how to keep them. On the back of her large farmhouse was an enclosed porch that was able to seat 20 or more comfortably. in it were tables and chairs which made me wonder what that was all about. It became abundantly clear when at exactly 12:30 everyone stopped what they were doing and made their way to the porch. Arrayed on the tables were sandwich meats, fresh rolls, soups, desserts and assorted beverages. Milk, water or iced tea.

No wonder she had such loyal hard-working people in her employ. Other than on farms that just wasn't heard of in those days. There were no official breaks during the morning and afternoon other than the 45-minute lunch break. If you needed to use the bathroom or rest a minute, that's what you did and then went back to work. It wasn't strenuous work per se, just busy from start until finish. The workers were officially done at five but always finished what they might be doing, which meant some were done before five and some a few minutes after.

That was something else I found intriguing, no time clock. There was a card with each person's name on it and columns for when they started and finished. She trusted her people to be honest about their hours. Something else interesting is that she was paying everyone at least a dollar more than they could get at the local factory or store. That is, everyone but me. I didn't mind though, working at the store I was never paid a wage. If I needed money I would ask and usually get a few bucks. If I was given a tenner that was considered above and beyond in my grandpa's mind.

Though I was only working an eleven-and-a-half-hour day she was paying me for twelve, that was 12 bucks a day five days a week and another six on Saturday morning. Sixty-six bucks a week, which would come to around fifty-nine take home pay. Every week. With free room and board I could have enough saved to buy a jalopy in a few months. When the others left for the day my job was to help Drew clean up and get things ready for the following day. In her words, she wasn't going to pay someone to get ready for work, she would pay them to work. Thus, the two of us making sure things were ready for the next morning.

Tired and bedraggled, I plodded along behind her as we walked to the house just before six that evening. As we were walking two trucks pulled in, enclosed trucks with beds about fifteen feet long and high enough to stand up. On the front was a refrigeration unit, then it hit me. Delivery trucks that had been out all day. Both backed up to the docking area where the walk-in coolers were located. Out of the trucks stepped two of the biggest men I had ever seen.

They waved, Drew yelled. "Orders are on the clipboard."

Leaning close as we walked she said quietly, "Samoan's. Big s-o-b's, but they work hard and nobody gives them crap. They'll fill the orders then take the trucks home and leave about four in the morning. I lucked out finding those two brothers, they're worth their weight in gold. The older one has a thing for me, so far, I haven't responded, maybe in the future. Who knows."

I'd forgotten about waiting for her to use the bathroom first, after peeing I was washing my hands. When I turned she was in the doorway with arms folded across her chest. With an exasperated look she barked.

"Well. Out. I need to pee."

Mental note to self, never do that again. Supper was another feast, I ate like a pig. I couldn't believe how much food I had put away, that was a first for me. I tried reading after supper, however I was fighting eyelids that wanted to close the entire time. Drew was in evening attire, robe and jammies, on the couch going through the local newspaper. I wasn't aware that I had dozed off until I felt Drew shaking my arm.

"Come on tiger. Time for bed, you had a long day."

The clock said 8pm, I didn't care, I was too tired to try staying up any longer. I was awake but not out of bed when the door opened, before she spoke I did.