It is summer, and Alice Cooper's "
School's Out
" hit is pouring out the FM radio of my Chevy II Nova. Driving from the Midwest to California at the end of May, I am grateful for the mountains of Arizona, as all through New Mexico temperatures are in the high 80's and low 90's, bathing my car (and seat) in sweat. I even have to rig up my beach blanket to keep from staining the seat. When I get to Kingman, I stop for the night, and the desk clerk happily offers late checkout the next day. "You'll be better off driving to L.A. at night." he offers. The room has air conditioning, so I take him up on that offer.
After dinner, I take my mind off the trip by doing laps in the (thankfully refrigerated) pool. As Captain of the swim team that took State, it is a ritual I am used to, and won't have to give up. Sold by my mother into family indentured servitude, I am to be the lawn boy, pool boy, and general handyman for my Aunt Maybelline throughout the summer. Then I'm supposed to get a job and find my own place to go to school. I can't get an answer from my mother when I ask her about Uncle Tommy, until in a completely uncharacteristic outburst, she yells at me "Uncle Tommy is gone and won't be coming back! Not another damn word to ANYONE about that either!", then stomps off upstairs to sulk.
The cousins are full of the wildest speculation, Gertrude claiming Uncle Tommy committed suicide, Jimmy claiming Maybelline turned him gay, Suzy claiming it was Maybelline who went gay, Victoria helpfully suggesting that part of what everybody said was right, so we all had to laugh and figure out that none of that was true. Which left the real truth hanging in the air, heavy with foreboding, and just as incorporeal. Victoria tried to kiss Suzy, since she figured out anyone who suspects someone is gay must have those tendencies themselves, so David tried to kiss Jimmy, and that was the instant my Mom showed up, yelling at us again "You kids! Stop your horsing around and get inside!"
So my mind wanders back over these events as I do the laps, and I realize the only reason my mind is getting the better of me is that my body isn't working hard enough. I push through the next ten laps, trying to beat my personal best, until the muscles complain that it is past time to stop. Whatever the real reason, Aunt Maybelline needs my help, and I'm going to do whatever she needs without causing her any more grief.
The next day I watch TV on the three stations available, do more laps in the pool, watch more TV, do more laps in the pool, nap, and do some more laps in the pool. Finally it is time for dinner and then time to hit the road. As the sun goes down, I lite up the doobie I've save for this occasion, as I roll down into the Mojave valley. Fog, something I never expected in the desert, lines the floor of the valley like a thin blanket, and then I'm down in it, almost invisible until I start back up the other side and the full moon pops out from behind the hills. I saw a painting like that once, and I understand why they did it, as a tremendous feeling of joy floods through me. I feel certain everything is going to be alright, California is going to be the beginning of the best years of my life, beauty will surround me all of my days. Or maybe it was just the doobie kicking in.
I get to L.A., and drive across the city longer than it took to drive across my state. On the far west side, between Pacific Pallisades and Santa Monica lies my Aunt's house. I arrive in the driveway, steep enough I set the parking brake, and Aunt Maybelline flies out of the house in just a sheer nightgown, as I laugh to myself, wondering what her neighbors must think of this man in drag running around in a nightgown. God was not kind to her, giving her such mannish features and the same body build as her six foot tall brothers I chuckle. Then she passes into the street light and I see her round globes, just perfectly round breasts, while her red bush the size of a catcher's mitt joins the display, and I understand she is in fact all woman.
"Stan! Stan! So great to see you! Give me a hug!" she cries out as she yanks open my car door.
"So great to see you...umph!" I stand, only to be crushed in a full on embrace, not the polite "A frame" hugs of civil society, but due to her eager advance, I have to step back on one foot, as she glides up over my knee, rubbing that big red bush all over my thigh, as those full globes softly smash into my chest. One quick peck on the lips, then a dozen kisses all over my face, as she purrs "My, you've turned into quite the hunk of manflesh!"
I blush, quite unsteady on my feet, so to balance myself I have to push back towards her and grab on, so I end up grabbing the cheeks of her ass. Her eyes go wide as I quickly let go, and separate us. "Excuse me!" I squeak.
"No blood, no foul. Besides, I'd rather have you grabbing my ass than falling on the pavement. Now let's get you unloaded, shall we?" she says joyously as she delivers one more peck on the lips, held just a moment longer than customary, conveying a certain acceptance of my grab-ass behavior.
We got the car sorted, and under the soft light of candles in her den at the back of her house she breaks out a bottle of wine for us to share.
"I'm not old enough." I object.
"Well, according to the letter your Mom gave me, I'm your legal guardian, and I say until and unless it will cause you to go play grab-ass with the whole neighborhood, that you are man enough to do anything a man would in my house." she answers brightly.
"Sorry about that. Didn't mean..." I start to apologize.
"Enough of that. Did you enjoy it? Well I certainly did! So if I'm not offended, and you enjoyed it, then what exactly is the problem?" She cuts me off, then leans forward intently, hopefully completely unaware that she is showing me her full rack down the deep v-neck of her nightgown. I am confused. She has my grandfather's face, for all intents and purposes a man's shield shaped face, yet softened, surrounded by natural red hair which matches the curls of the catcher's mitt down below. Yet she has the best tits of any of the women in our family, and as my hands can attest, the best ass as well. Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes, she is like some bohemian love child that escaped from the WASP blue blood snobbery of the rest of the family.
"Are my tits really that hypnotic? I did ask you a question. Oh yes, you are 18 and male. Well, we will just have to deal with that." she says softly.
"Ummm, yes, and uhhh, no problem." I realize I have been caught ogling my Aunt, and try to make amends.
"I'm sorry Aunt Maybelline." I say with regret.
"Maybelline is a beauty product, I'm the beauty. Call me May when staring at my tits, or call me Mabel, but never call me late for dinner." she instructs sternly, then laughs with me when I get the joke.
"You are in the room at the top right of the stairs. As for the staring at my tits part, I swim nude. Heck, I do almost everything nude. Part of your duties around here is to keep up with the yard work, and keep the pool in order, I trust you know how to do those things already?" she says as she stands, taking a big drink of her wine.
"Yes Aunt Mabel." I reply contritely.
"Good. As for staring at my bush, yes the one between my legs, you can do that all you want and not see anything. Not like Helga next door, you're gonna pop a boner tomorrow when you see her. Heck, the way she has her bush trimmed it makes me want to lick it and I don't go for women. Strictly dickly – in case you've been listening to the family gossip." She looks at me intently.
"No ma'am." I say softly.
"As for the other things, Tommy isn't gay, he didn't kill himself, he just ran off with his secretary. He was banging us both morning, noon and night and she finally laid the law down that it was her or me, not both." She takes another big drink of her wine.
"Sorry to hear about that." I say softly.
