Unexpected Love

I had planned a romantic dinner for my husband, Ron, and I. He travels a lot for work and because of new projects starting up, I hadn't seen him for more than two days in the past month. Normally, I don't worry about it and enjoy the alone time but in the past few months he had missed our anniversary, our son's birthday and my birthday. I appreciate the fact that he called on each of those dates without being prompted and normally that would have been enough. But this time I had made a dinner to celebrate his birthday and he called me to tell me he wasn't coming home an hour before his flight was supposed to land.

My disappointment led to sadness then anger. That fire was stoked when I went to our liquor cabinet and saw we were out of vodka. Wanting a drink more than anything, I got in the car and drove to the closest liquor store.

Storming in, I went and snatched a bottle off the shelf.

"Aunt Jane?"

I turned to the voice and saw my nephew, who was also my son's best friend, approaching. "Dylan? Hi. How are you?"

"Better than you it seems." He gave me a hesitant smile. "Everything okay?"

Sometimes it's the most innocuous things that can set me off. That simple question at that moment from someone who genuinely cared made me break down and start crying. I missed my husband. Our son, Luke, was off at college and I felt alone. When he pulled me into a hug, I became even more upset because I was having an ugly cry in public with my nephew trying to console me.

"Let me take you home," he said once I calmed down.

"It's not necessary." I pulled out of his embrace. "I'm fine now."

"That might be the case but I'd feel better if I at least followed you home."

About to be overcome with emotion again, I nodded. As we stood at the register to pay for our purchases, I looked Dylan over. It seemed as if he looked more like his father, my brother Jake, every day. Dylan was a few inches taller than me, standing maybe 5' 10" and had bright hazel-green eyes. He had light brown hair that was straight and hung to the middle of his back and wore a wife beater that displayed his thick arms and hugged his torso tightly. One of his hands was holding up the baggy jeans he was wearing while he made his purchase. While Luke had moved away for college, Dylan didn't have aspirations for higher education which was one of the things that drove Jake crazy. The last time I had seen Dylan, he had been working odd jobs and living with his girlfriend, Melissa, and their daughter, Raven, another sore point between his father and him.

After finishing our purchases, we left. As promised, Dylan followed me home. When we arrived, I walked back to where he was sitting in his car. "Come inside."

"Thanks for the offer but I don't want to impose. You already didn't want me to follow you. It's okay."

"Dylan," I said with my maternal voice. He and Luke had heard it a number of times over the years and I saw him smile with kind amusement. "Get your butt in the house now."

"Yes, ma'am." He turned off his car and got out.

"Bring your bottle. We'll have a few drinks." When we got inside, the smell of food hit me. "Are you hungry? I made dinner for Ron but he won't be home for another few days."

"Then why did you make dinner?"

"That, dear boy, is the issue."

After fixing ourselves drinks, we sat down and ate the meal I had prepared. I had always enjoyed Dylan's company. I know many adults, his parents included, looked at him as if he were a trouble maker because of his appearance. He wasn't and I had gone to bat for him with his parents many times. Though he may not have, or want, book smarts, he was a wise young man who could easily hold a conversation. Though they got into the usual teen boy troubles, I never had an issue with Dylan and Luke being together. If anything, Dylan was usually the one getting Luke out of trouble. I loved my son and would always defend him. However, I was well aware he was often the instigator in any trouble they got into.

"Let's go for a swim," I suggested after eating. We had continued to sit and talk and I was starting to feel antsy. Even though it was the middle of December, the weather was comfortably mild. It was one of the perks of living in Florida.

"I would love to but I really should be going." He stood and grabbed his dishes and went to the kitchen. "You've tolerated me long enough."

I followed him with my own dishes. "Dylan, I don't mind. I'm enjoying the company. It feels nice to have someone here after that asshole canceled on me. Just leave them," I said when he began to scrape the plates clean. "I'll get them in the morning."

Dylan turned and leaned back against the counter. "Well, that asshole needs to learn to appreciate you."

I smacked him playfully. "I can call him an asshole but you can't."

He gave me a half smile. "Sorry, Aunt Jane."

"Just call me Jane. No one's here and I only made you do it because your dad made me."

At that, Dylan screwed up his face. "I don't think I can do that."

"Your choice. Now, I'm going to go get changed. Check Luke's room. There are still clothes in there. You should be able to find something to swim in."

He looked nervous. "I really should go."

"What's wrong?" I immediately remembered his family. "Oh. I forgot about the girls. I don't want to keep you from them."

"Melissa kicked me out." Dylan hung his head despondently. "I was going to see if I could find a friend's couch to crash on."

I had noticed a number of bags and stray clothes in the back of his car. Knowing how messy he and Luke had been as teens I hadn't thought much of it. Now it made sense. "What happened?"

"I don't want to bother you with my problems. You have enough of your own."

"You listened to me whine about Ron and the least I can do is listen to your troubles. Let's have another drink outside."

He reluctantly agreed and we moved out to the back patio.

I listened as he told me about the fight they had. Dylan was ready to get married but Melissa didn't want to. It surprised me because I had always thought he was a catch. From what I had seen of him together with his girls, he treated them well and was a doting father. Despite not having a regular job, he did everything he could to make sure Raven was provided for. But that was Melissa's hang-up: She wanted him to have something steady and predictable before she would commit. I understood that and explained that she had probably kicked him out in order to provide a nudge for him to do just that.

"But I don't want to be tied down to an office or anything like that," he said seriously. "It's not me."

Suddenly an idea hit. "Humor me for a minute. How much money do you make? How much do you need?" I listened to his response. "I'm not promising anything, but if I can make it happen, how would you like to work for me?"

"Huh?"

I owned a small hair and nail salon and had just signed a lease on a larger space. I was bringing on more stylists and nail technicians and had been considering a receptionist. It was a position I was going to work for a while until the expansion settled but if I had someone there, I could spend most of my time managing. I presented the idea to him.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly.

"I know it's not a manly job," I said. "And I don't even know if I can swing it. But just keep it in the back of your mind. I'll have to run the numbers to see if I can even do it."

"Okay." He downed the rest of his drink. "I really need to go. I don't want to call people too late."

Because they didn't get along too well, I understood why he hadn't gone to his parents. I brought out my stern voice again. "You're not going anywhere, young man. Stay here. You can sleep in Luke's room, the guest room or on the sofa. Your choice."

"But --"

"'But' nothing," I cut him off. "You've been drinking and it is getting late. If anything happened to you, I'd feel guilty and your father would never forgive me. You're not imposing and I'm offended that you think you are. You're family. If you need a place to stay, you've got one. Feel free to stay as long as you need. I'll give you a key so you can come and go as you wish."

"Are you sure?"

Instead of answering directly, I said, "Go get your stuff and I'll fix us another round."

We stayed up rather late that night talking before going to bed. He opted to stay in the guest room, feeling weird about sleeping in Luke's bed. Not having anything until late in the afternoon, I slept in the next day. When I got up, I saw that he had gone and taken the spare key with him. In its place he had left a note telling me his plans for the day and thanking me for giving him a place to stay.

That evening, I again cooked us dinner and we sat and talked comfortably. Toward the end of the night I said, "I know I twisted your arm to stay but you don't have to hang out with me if you don't want to. I want you to be comfortable here. Treat it like your home."

"I like talking to you, Aunt Jane. You get me and don't try to change me."

"I wish you would just call me Jane."

He shook his head. "I can't do that. It just doesn't feel right."

"I respect that." I stood. "I'm off to bed. I have an early day tomorrow. Don't worry about making noise. Even if you were to throw a party I wouldn't hear it once I'm out. Stay up as long as you want. It's your home, too."

"I'll probably be going up in a bit as well. Have a good night."

"Good night."

Two more days passed in this manner. I noticed him relaxing, feeling more comfortable being there. Randomly he made calls to Melissa asking to come home but it always seemed to end with her yelling. I respected his privacy and never asked about them, waiting for him to bring it up.

That Saturday, for some strange reason, turned into a busy, stressful day for both of us. By the time we were home, we were done with life and decided to order pizza for delivery and veg out in front of the TV watching a mindless movie. It took us every bit of the thirty minutes before the pizza arrived to decide on a movie. We each had very different tastes and after a bit of lighthearted arguing, we finally chose one.

I woke up with the DVD menu cycling. Opening my eyes fully, I saw that we had fallen asleep on the sofa. Not just that, but I was laying on top of Dylan and he had an arm wrapped around me. I also felt something hard pressing into my hip and absently wondered why there was a bottle in his pocket. My movement woke him and I saw his eyes flutter open.

This close to him, I realized for the first time what an attractive man he was. I had always thought he was a cute boy, but this was the first time I looked and saw him as an adult. His lashes were long, perfectly framing his beautiful eyes. He had a small, upturned pug nose that made him look younger than his 22 years. Below that were a pair of full, pouty red lips that I didn't realize I had begun to kiss until I heard my sigh when I pulled away. Looking back at his eyes, I saw them widen slightly with shock before he leaned up and met my lips again.

As we continued to kiss, each of our hands moved to our shorts. I pulled mine completely off as he lowered his enough to free his erection. After raising my hips slightly and placing my head on his shoulder, Dylan adjusted himself and slid his length into me. I had not had another man in me for almost 25 years but knew instantly that Dylan was well-endowed, that what I had felt was not a bottle but his dick. His girth was such that his head had barely entered me and I was moaning from the almost painful stretch. It was obvious he was used to this because he immediately pulled out and began to slowly feed it back into me with short thrusts. It didn't help that I was not quite aroused yet and relatively dry.

When he was finally sheathed in me, he pulled back, drawing almost completely out of me before pushing all the way back in. He kept up the agonizingly slow task of long-dicking me. Not only was he spreading the walls of my pussy but he was reaching places within me that had only been touched during childbirth.

Even though we were having sex, it was not about romance. We were two adults who both needed to give and receive this most intimate support. We needed to feel wanted and appreciated while at the same time desired to take care of and comfort someone. It was just the physical manifestation of the connection we had formed.

Dylan moved a hand to my head and begin to stroke my hair as he slowed his thrusts even more. "Let it out," he whispered into my ear.

I could never say how he knew and I never asked but as soon as he said that, I let out a sob. My body shook as what felt like years of sadness left me, leaving me with a peace I had not felt in ages. As my tears began to slow, my orgasm hit and all the tension left my body.

At the same time my climax began, Dylan began to increase the intensity of his thrusts. His hips didn't necessarily move faster, they just became more determined. I heard him gasp in my ear a split second before his dick became rigid and started to pulse within me. Experiencing a relief that mirrored my own, his hips moved against me at a more languid pace as he filled me.

We continued to lay together with him still stroking my hair until he softened to the point of falling out of me.

"Time for a shower," I said as I stood. I wanted to glance at his crotch but, despite what had just happened, felt that wouldn't be appropriate. Instead, I grabbed the remote off the table and turned off the TV. I took a few steps and looked back when I didn't sense him following. "Coming?"

He flushed with embarrassment. "I don't think I should, Aunt Jane."

I moved back toward him with an outstretched hand. "We're definitely beyond 'Aunt Jane', Dylan. Come on."

He gave a wry smile as he grasped my hand and stood.

Holding hands the entire way, we went to the bathroom in the master bedroom. I stripped and, after a little prodding, got him to strip as well. We stepped into the standalone shower and cleaned ourselves. Though it was big enough for two people, we had to take turns under the spray. Our eyes remained on everything except each other's genitals and we made surprisingly comfortable small talk while we washed.

After drying, I went into the bedroom and crawled into bed.

"Well, good night," he said as he moved to the doorway.

I pulled back the sheet on the other side. "I'd like you to stay."

"Thank you, Jane." My name was obviously awkward on his tongue. "But I don't think I should."

Trying to hide my disappointment, I simply nodded as he turned off the light and left the room. I heard him enter his room and crawl into bed.

Minutes passed in silence. I was unable to sleep. Even though I had just cheated on my husband with my nephew it was not my top concern. I felt bad about potentially ruining the friendship Dylan and I had and whatever ramifications it would have for Luke's relationship with him.

A soft rustle came to my ears an unknown time later. It was followed by soft footfalls coming in my direction. In the darkness, I saw Dylan's form pass through the doorway, darker than the shadows around him. I felt the mattress shift as he crawled into bed. Reaching out, his hand found me and I felt him spoon himself behind me, still as naked as I was. He placed a light kiss on my shoulder and I quickly fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of breakfast. After putting on a robe, I went downstairs and saw Dylan cooking wearing a pair of boxers.

"I didn't know you could cook," I said as I took a seat at the island in the center of the kitchen.

"You never let me," he replied. "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving." I sat and watched him finish making the meal. As we ate, our conversation came as easily as it always had. I wanted to make sure he was okay with what had happened but didn't know how to bring it up. In the end, there was no mention of the previous night at all that day.

"I'm going to turn in," he said after our lazy day together.

I turned off the TV. "I'm ready for bed as well." Still not sure what to do, I followed him upstairs. I smiled to myself when he continued past the door to what had become his room and entered my room. He crawled into bed without apprehension but seemed to rethink it when he saw me standing in the doorway watching him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and started to get up. "I thought --"

"You thought right." I turned off the light then went to my side of the bed and dropped my robe, still nude underneath from not having dressed that day, before sliding under the sheets. I felt him slide against me and our lips met in a soft kiss.

"Good night," he whispered against my lips.

"Good night."

We didn't have sex that night, or for a few others after, but Dylan shared my bed each evening.

On Tuesday, I got a call from Ron saying he would be home the next evening. I took the opportunity to tell him Dylan was staying with us. Ron liked Dylan as much as I did and had no issue with him being there.

When I got home that evening, Dylan was already there. I let him know that Ron was returning the next day but assured him Ron insisted that he stay with us as well until he got things straightened out.

We went through our normal evening routine of dinner and TV before going upstairs.

After crawling into bed, instead of leaning over to give me a quick kiss, he climbed on top of me and pressed his lips into mine. He humped his rapidly hardening dick against me making his intentions known.

I met Dylan's lips with a matching force and moved my hips in complimentary motion to his. Even though it had already happened once and Dylan and I now slept together, I had not planned on having sex with my nephew ever again. Yet, despite the fact that my husband was returning the next day, as we made out I now hoped this would not be the last time.

I was in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra and, after he lowered the waistband of his boxers out of the way, he simply moved the thin fabric covering my opening to the side before plunging into me. Though he wasn't rough, he wasn't as slow and gentle as the first time. I let out a short squeal that turned into a moan at his sudden entry and my legs wrapped themselves around his thighs. Holding on was challenging because his hips moved quickly thrusting into me with the occasional, random circular motion. Occasionally he would lean down to kiss me but mostly remained hovering over me as he fucked me. Instinctually, I understood what was happening: Dylan was marking me. He locked his eyes on my face giving me a look that let me know that, despite my age and relation to him, he was in control. Though I was married and he had a girlfriend, it was clear that I was his. And I didn't mind.

The sudden dominance of the act brought me off quickly. I announced my climax with an unreserved scream. Shortly thereafter, I felt Dylan slam into me with a grunt as he began to fill me. Panting heavily above me, he remained motionless, buried in me until his dick stopped twitching. He leaned down and gave me a kiss before sliding off me. He spooned himself against me, holding me tight. Instinctually I knew his preventing me from getting cleaned up was another way of him asserting his dominance over me. I let him and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, after we showered together, I changed the sheets while he made our breakfast. While we ate, we talked about everything except last night and Ron's homecoming.

I returned home moments before Ron and was in the middle of preparing dinner for the three of us when he arrived. Despite what had happened between me and Dylan, Ron was my husband and I was excited to see him. Dylan arrived just as I was plating dinner. After greeting Ron, the three of us sat down to eat together. The two of them talked as easily as Dylan and I had. Ron also provided him advice for getting back in Michelle's good graces.