Because her parents had won the grand prize in a sweepstakes, an all-expenses paid trip around the world, Whitney Summers was going to be on her own for an entire year. The youngest of three children at 18, she knew that she'd be fine living on her own for the year, but that wasn't going to happen. Her mother simply wasn't having any of that.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Whitney," Brittany told her daughter. "Well actually, yes – it's precisely that. I think that if you're left unsupervised, you'll have parties and have boys over and neglect your studies. I think you're going to need adult supervision, someone close by who can keep a careful eye on you."
Whitney came very close to losing her temper with her mother. She looked over at her father, who just shrugged in resignation. It bothered Whitney to no end that her father was such a mouse, so easily cowed by her domineering mother. That was just the way things were in the Summers' household. Dale Summers didn't like to rock the boat and Whitney knew full well that she had no ally here.
She was fortunate enough to find one outside of the home. Later that same day, her mother's brother called to congratulate Brittany and her husband on winning the prize. When James Comstock heard of Whitney's predicament, he came up with an easy solution.
"Don't worry about a thing sis, Whitney can come and live with us for the year," James said, referring to himself and his wife Ophelia. In his early 30's and 12 years younger than his sister, James Comstock was Whitney's favorite relative. She only knew her aunt in passing. James had married the 7-years younger Ophelia about 18 months earlier, stunning the family who had believed he would be a life-long bachelor. When Whitney got a good look at her new aunt, she could easily see why her uncle had chosen to marry the woman. She was the most stunning creature that Whitney had ever seen. She moved around with a regal grace, introducing herself to her new family and charming everyone. Ophelia had been born in Tanzania to a black father and a Chinese-American mother. She was so eerily beautiful that she made Whitney uneasy, although that soon vanished after she spoke with the woman and found her so warm and friendly.
Whitney was thrilled that she would be staying with her uncle and his new wife. She hoped that maybe they'd give her a longer leash so that she could enjoy her life a bit more. Her mother still treated her like a child; it was one of the main reasons that Whitney hadn't dated much over the past number of years. She didn't want to subject anyone to Brittany's intense grilling sessions. Hadn't Whitney always been responsible, making good decisions about friends and maintaining good grades? Her tuition was almost totally paid for by the scholarship she had earned; shouldn't that have stood for something? She was glad that she would be living only 30 minutes away from school and could continue seeing her friends and perhaps even find a part-time job to help pay some of her own way.
James picked his niece up on Sunday afternoon, a few days before his sister and brother-in-law were to leave on their trip. As his Corvette left the driveway, he could see the relief on his niece's face. "Glad to have some time away from the wardens, huh kid?" He chuckled. "I have no idea why my sister turned into such a fucking stiff, our folks aren't like that at all."
"You have NO god-damned idea how much I need to get away from the both of them," Whitney said, forgetting herself for a minute and apologizing for the language.
"Don't sweat it, kiddo," Her uncle laughed. "Ophelia's always telling me to watch my language; it comes from working by myself all these years." James Comstock was a very successful interior designer who earned a six figure salary annually. A few of Whitney's friends had teased her about his profession when they were younger – until they got a good look at the 6'4", dark-haired, broad-shouldered hunk that was her uncle.
Whitney told her uncle about some of her plans and he immediately nixed the idea of her working. "If your parents get to have fun for the next year, why shouldn't you? I have so much fucking money – see, there I go – that I don't know what to do with it all. Just keep your grades up and don't sweat the other stuff, I can easily afford to feed another mouth."
Whitney loved riding in her uncle's car, feeling the wind blow through her blonde hair. Already her tensions were melting away and as she pulled up to James's home, she gasped. The large, manor-style home he lived in never failed to impress her, although in some ways, it made no sense. Why did a single man or even a newlywed husband with a young wife need such a huge home? It really wasn't important, he could easily afford it, but it seemed to be such an extravagance.
She grabbed her few bags from the trunk and went inside. Ophelia was just descending the stairs, once again entrancing her new niece. Even simply dressed in a white dress, her face nicely made up and hoop earrings dangling from her ears, she radiated gorgeousness. Ophelia had long, slender legs and the face of a fashion model, Whitney felt inadequate next to her, although she knew she herself was an attractive young woman. When she got to the bottom step, her high heels clicked on the marble floors as she walked to embrace Whitney.
"We're so glad that you're going to be with us this year," Ophelia purred. "We're going to have a lot of fun, I promise. Did you and James have a nice talk on the drive over?"
"Sure, I guess so," Whitney answered, puzzled at what her aunt meant by that. Ophelia looked over at her husband with a quizzical look.
"You didn't
tell
her?" She asked James.
"We didn't have time, it isn't that long a drive," He answered. "After dinner baby, we'll all talk. It's going to work out, you'll see."
Whitney felt as if there was some secret she wasn't privy to, but decided to let it rest for now. Uncle James gave his wife a big kiss and then told the two women to have a drink while he prepared dinner. "He loves to cook and take care of the house," Ophelia explained to her niece. "My James, he loves to pamper me," Ophelia said with a sigh. "I do so love being a spoiled rich bitch, I'm a lucky girl." She giggled.
Whitney was already warming to her aunt, although she supposed it could have been the lovely Chablis that Ophelia had poured for her. "I'm sure having money is nice, I wouldn't know – I've never had much," She confessed.
"Don't worry about it," Ophelia smiled warmly. "James and I agreed, we intend to spoil you rotten while you're here. If there's something you want, let us know and we'll see if we can't make it happen."
"Oh please, don't go to any trouble on my account," Whitney protested. "I don't want to be a bother, I'm just so grateful you're letting me stay here this year."
"It's no bother, it'll be my pleasure," Ophelia told her. "I happened to notice you didn't bring very many suitcases."
Whitney shook her head while Ophelia poured her a bit more wine. "No, I don't have a lot of clothes and if I need something, I can always go back home and get it," She told her aunt. "It isn't that far away."
"Don't be silly, it's far enough," Ophelia argued. "We're pretty girls, half the fun of being a pretty girl is going shopping and buying sexy, new clothes. While you're staying with us, you're going to live a little."
Whitney smiled, it was going to be a blast staying here. Sometimes she forgot that Ophelia herself was only 6 or 7 years older than Whitney. She was so sexy, sophisticated and worldly, but she did seem to be giddy and fun and enjoy life. Right there and then, Whitney promised herself that she would try to follow Ophelia's example and have some fun while she was living here. It was almost as if that is what Ophelia and James expected of her. Whitney was offered more wine, but declined – she didn't want to be smashed before dinner and she was well on her way right now.
Dinner had been lovingly prepared by James and it was delicious. The weather was balmy and the stars were out, so they enjoyed the evening outdoors. "Would you like to go for a swim?" Ophelia asked the pretty blonde.
Whitney shook her head. "It's a lovely night, but I didn't bring a suit."
"That's not a problem, we usually don't wear any," Ophelia confessed. She turned to her husband. "Do you think perhaps that
now
is the time to tell her?"
"I think she's opened the door, sweetheart," James smiled, hugging his bride.
"Tell me what?" Whitney asked, confused. She was a bit apprehensive, but also knew that her uncle would never tell her anything bad or do something that would cause her pain.
"We're very open about sex in this house, Whitney," Ophelia told her niece, placing her dark hand on top of the girl's. "We believe in
total
sexual freedom, as do several of our friends. Sex is a wonderful, joyous experience and James and I don't believe in limiting ourselves."
"You're swingers?" Whitney questioned.
"You could call us that, but we really don't care for that term," Ophelia smiled. "We prefer hedonists, we have very libertine attitudes about sex, we also love art, food, wine and the pleasures that life has to offer. I had given up hope of finding a man that thought the same way I did until I met James."
"Oh, really?" Whitney asked, curious. "I've never heard how you two met."
"It's a funny story, really," Ophelia smiled sweetly.
"She was screwing a girlfriend of mine and I walked in on them," James laughed.
Whitney was flabbergasted. "You were fucking –
a girl
– and you caught them? You didn't freak out, you weren't angry at your girlfriend?"
"Hell, no!" James laughed again. "I took one look at Ophelia and even with that rubber cock jutting out from her body, she looked so sexy while she was giving it to Sherri. I just asked if I could join them. Ophelia and I clicked so good in bed that even after Sherri fell asleep, we kept right on fucking."
"We started dating, although I told him he could keep seeing Sherri," Ophelia laughed. "After all, I sure as hell intended to keep seeing her – she's a dynamite little redhead who is great in the sack. When we talked more in-depth, we realized that we had similar values. We believe in love, but fidelity the way most people see it doesn't work for us. After we had been going out for a few months, I moved in here and we started having fun – I invited my friends over, he invited his friends over, some of them hooked up – it's wild."
"So, that's why you have such a huge home – you hold orgies?" Whitney gasped.
"That's an old term, but you're essentially correct," James nodded. "We didn't want to hide anything from you sweetheart, because they're going to continue while you're living with us."
"O-okay, it's your home, so you can do whatever you like," Whitney said nervously. "I can just make myself scarce."
"No darling, you're missing the point entirely," Ophelia smiled, squeezing the girl's hand. "Your uncle and I were hoping that you would like to
join
us."
