This is an idea that just popped into my head, so I got it down. I thought about saving it and expanding it, but I have about five other Works in Progress that I'm still actively writing. Not to mention several completed manuscripts in editing before I can get them published. (Though none of my completed manuscripts are for Literorica...)
I can't stress enough how quickly I wrote this. It was literally done in less than 24 hours, including the hasty edit. Likely there will be errors, but polish wasn't my goal here.
As always anyone in described/graphic sexual acts is over the age of 18, and consenting (though somewhat reluctant at first in this story). This is a work of pure fiction, from the author's mind.
I hope you enjoy!
Saving my Aunt
"I'm still not convinced. You know that right?" I asked as I turned onto the poorly labelled country road.
My mother replied through the phone connected to my truck, "Don't be like that. Your Aunt Victoria hasn't been the same since my brother passed from a heart attack."
I sighed. "I know. I'm just not sure if this is the best use of my time."
My mother sighed. "Peter Mitchel, visiting your grieving aunt isn't a waste of your time."
I chuckled. "I'm on my way there aren't I? Mom, I'm not saying it's a waste of time. That doesn't mean that I couldn't be out finding a job or something."
"Your aunt needs you."
I nodded. "I know. That's why I'm driving out here."
"Okay, Hun. I love you."
"Love you too Mom. Bye." I pressed the button on my steering wheel ending the call.
I peered out of the truck window at the passing countryside. It was such a beautiful area of the country.
Despite what I told my mother, my reluctance to visit my aunt didn't stem from my desire to be out looking for a new civilian job. I was reluctant to see her because I loved her more than a nephew should.
I always had mixed emotions about visiting my uncle's farm for a few months through the summers as a kid. When I was younger I didn't like being away from my parents. Aunt Phoebe, Uncle Don's first wife, always made me feel better. She made sure that Uncle Don would take me out hunting, fishing, and other fun things.
When Aunt Phoebe was killed in a car accident when I was nine, Uncle Don changed. When I came to visit after she died we didn't do fun things. He just had me help around the farm. He also got mean. He started yelling at me and calling me names. It seemed like nothing I did was ever right anymore.
I tried telling my parents I didn't want to go anymore, but they sent me anyway.
Things changed again when I went out for my annual visit one year. Somehow my uncle managed to find another wife. I was surprised when I stepped out of the car and there was a beautiful teenage girl there to greet me.
My uncle never explained how he met and married a woman twenty years younger than him. And she never explained why she wanted him.
When I stepped out of the car though, I fell hopelessly in love with Victoria. It may have been infatuation, but that didn't stop my feeling from becoming real as I grew.
A farmer driving along in his tractor pulled me out of my reminiscing, as I came up behind him. Glancing around I realized how close I was to my turn. Flicking my indicator, I made the turn onto her lane.
A short drive later, I was parked in front of the old farmhouse. Turning off the engine to my truck I simply stared out at the house. I had not been back since I joined the military twelve years ago and it became clear that my uncle hadn't been maintaining the house.
Then I saw her, my Venus. Aunt Victoria stepped out of the house onto the wrap-around porch, and a few things shocked me.
Firstly, I thought I had prepared myself to see her. I wanted to make the effort to be the nephew who had familial thoughts, not one with lewd thoughts. Any preparations I'd made were completely useless. I was still hopelessly in love with the woman and knew she would continue to feature in my fantasies.
Secondly was her appearance. Her inherent beauty was still there, nothing could change or take that away, but it was clear that my mother's statement about my aunt not being the same was a gross understatement. Her flaming hair was unkempt and in a loose bun. She was wearing worn-out clothing that was dirty and torn in several places; something that she would NEVER have worn before. I couldn't tell if she had gained or lost weight because her clothing didn't fit her properly, and hung loose.
Finally, I was shocked, seeing her face. Her expression as she stepped out, looked like that of a person who was dead inside. When she saw me in my truck though, her expression changed. The light came on in her eyes, and her mouth twisted into a smile.
I quickly got out of my truck, and Victoria came running down the steps. She slammed into me at full force. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. I was more than happy to return the gesture.
When I left to join the military at eighteen, I was a boy. I may have been a little taller, but I wasn't much bigger than Victoria then. I'd grown. Now several inches taller, and over a hundred pounds of muscle heavier.
Victoria's head tucked under my chin, and she fit comfortably in my arms.
She pressed her body against me, and I couldn't help but feel her magnificent breasts pressed into me.
"Pete, it's so good to see you!"
I gave her a little squeeze. "It's good to see you too."
She released me and stepped back to arm's length. She didn't let me go though.
"How've you been doin'?" I asked.
She shrugged and looked away. "Been better."
I nodded my head. "So I can see."
She glanced back at me and blushed. "Why-- Why don't we go inside and we can talk."
I nodded my agreement. Leaving my bags in the truck, we walked into the house, Victoria not letting my hand go.
The inside of the house looked worse than the outside. Not only was it in disrepair, it was messy and dirty. I was somewhat disgusted to see the place.
I did my best not to judge, and be understanding. Clearly, I was needed here more than my mother led me to believe.
Once we were seated on the couch, Victoria snuggled in close. She took my hands in hers, and simply sat there. I had the impression she was trying to organize her thoughts.
After a few moments, I prompted, "What's going on Victoria?"
She tried speaking a few times but quickly devolved into sobbing. She buried her face in my chest and cried.
I extracted my hands from hers, and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight until she settled.
Another thing hit me while we were sitting there on the couch, and that was her body odour. I don't mind the smell of a clean body. I prefer a person's natural scent to that of perfume. But Victoria stunk. The odour wafting off of her was not that of a clean body.
Once her sobs subsided, she quietly said, "I don't know. It's been bad for so long. Even before Don died. I just don't do anything. I can't seem to make myself do anything. I have nothing to live for."
It was at that moment I made a decision. And that decision, whether right or wrong, changed the both of us.
"That talk ends right now!" I said in my command voice.
The military taught me many things over the years. One of those things is that people respond to authority. If you
sound
like you're in charge, know what you're talking about, and are confident, then they are likely to do what they're told.
Continuing I said, "I'm not leaving until we get you turned around."
She pushed back to look at me.
