#aunt nephew

This took place back in 1978. Tail end of the summer. My cousin was driving cross country on his way back to college. My parents and I lived near the halfway point of his trip. Our house was on a large property outside of town, no neighbors for miles, real peaceful. My cousin said a few days at our place would be a great way to relax.

He came and stayed with us for two days, give or take. Arrived late afternoon Friday. Stayed Saturday. Got back on the road after lunch on Sunday.

My cousin was a few years older than I was. He was everything I wanted to be: popular, athletic, good looking, confident. Too confident, though. Arrogant. He could be a real asshole. I admired and disliked him in equal amounts.

The first night he was there, he asked about pussy. Specifically, where to find it. Where did the girls hang out? Which ones put out? Which ones were best at it? I was shy and quiet for a teenager. A virgin, in other words. I had to bluff my way through the conversation. Acted above the fray, as though I was bored by what the locals had to offer. I remember him chuckling, like he wasn’t buying my act. But he didn’t call me on it.

Dad played in a softball league that was wrapping up its season. Saturday afternoon was their final game. My mother always went to watch him play. I only went half the time. Anything was more fun than watching middle aged men trying to relive their youth. But she liked me to go with her and I couldn’t always find an excuse not to.

I expected Mom and Dad would go to the game and my cousin and I would find something else to do. I couldn’t see him being interested, big shot that he was. Imagine my surprise when he told my mother he’d love to go with her to watch the game.

Dad left early for warmups. My cousin insisted on taking Mom and I in the big orange van he’d been driving across the country. He drove. Mom rode shotgun. That left me in the back. There was a curtain behind the two front seats that kept the back of the van private. The way I was quickly forgotten and ignored, I may as well have been in another vehicle.

The three of us sat up in the stands to watch the game. I was bored out of my skull. About the fourth inning, I got up to walk around a while. When I went back to my seat, I saw my mother and cousin both holding beers in clear plastic cups. My cousin’s was half empty. Mom’s looked like it had barely been touched.

From their body language it looked like he was encouraging her to drink it. She took a sip and he tilted the bottom of the cup up, so she would have to drink more of it. Mom swallowed it down and coughed, but was laughing. She seemed to be having a good time.

I was very surprised. I had never seen my mother so much as touch a beer before. Or any other alcohol for that matter. As far as I was concerned, she was a saint. An angel sent to Earth. Not only because of her gentle kindness and warmth, but also her beauty. She had the face of an angel. Blonde hair as golden as the sun. I loved my mother dearly. Adored her, really. Seeing her drinking and laughing with my asshole cousin made me uncomfortable. She was a flower and he was a weed.

I went back up and sat down beside her, thinking my presence would get things back to normal. But she actually finished her beer. Then my cousin got two more and she drank most of that too. They spent the rest of the game laughing together. I heard her say that coming to the games was always so boring. Since I was sitting with her half the time, that stung more than a little. Apparently it was only my cousin, not me, who could relieve the boredom she felt.

I’m sure I was being overly sensitive. But the more they laughed and carried on together, the more I felt ignored. Not being old enough to drink yet, I couldn’t have a beer of my own. I was sitting right there but it felt like they were part of a secret club and I was on the outside looking in.

Dad’s team won the game and one of the guys on the team always hosted a BBQ afterward. Dad always went. Mom and I rarely did and that day was no exception. After saying bye to Dad, Mom, my cousin and I went back to his van. I could tell by the way she was acting that my mother was a little tipsy from the beer. She only had two that I remember, but when you never drink I guess it doesn’t take much.

When we got to the van my cousin tossed me his keys and told me to drive us home. I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed he didn’t want to drive because he’d been drinking. I was almost impressed by the unexpected display of responsibility.

I got behind the wheel and he helped Mom into the back of the van. Instead of one of them sitting up front with me, they both stayed in the back. I still didn’t think anything of it. I’d spent the whole afternoon being ignored. I guess I’d gotten used to it.

Only a minute or two into the drive, my cousin told me to turn on the radio. I did. I drove along, listening to the tunes. About ten minutes later I got to an intersection in the middle of nowhere, a few miles from our house. There wasn’t another soul in sight.

I was about to go through the intersection when I heard a strange sound. The radio had gotten quiet, like someone forgot to have the next song ready to play. There were about five seconds of silence. It was only because of that silence that I heard what I did. Funny to think that one forgetful disc jockey might have forever changed my life.

The sound I heard was moaning, there wasn’t any question of that. And as my brain analyzed what I was hearing, I realized it sounded an awful lot like my mother. I immediately turned to look into the back of the van. I had to open the curtain, which I did slowly and only enough to peek in. I saw my mother sitting there. Her head was tilted back, eyes closed, while my cousin sucked on her neck like a vampire.

I barely had time to process what I was seeing when I noticed it. The thing that really made my eyes bulge out. It was my cousin’s hand firmly attached to one of my mother’s large breasts. But he didn’t merely have his hand on it. He was actively fondling it. Pawing her. Groping her over her shirt with big greedy squeezes.

I let go of the curtain before they saw me. Had anyone seen me at that moment, I imagine I’d have been white as a ghost. My first thought was that my cousin was forcing himself on her. Mom was tipsy from the beer and he was taking advantage of her condition. I thought about what to do. Should I get out, drag him out of the back of the van, and kick the shit out of him? I would have loved to, but it would have been easier said than done.

Then I started to realize the uncomfortable truth. The noises I heard were noises of enjoyment. And my mother was making no effort to stop him. No verbal protests. No pushing his hand away. No nothing. To the contrary, she was tilting her head back and moaning.

I felt sick. I could not believe my angelic mother would let something like that happen. In the back of a dirty old van? With my asshole cousin of all people on Earth?

I realized we’d been sitting at the intersection for too long. I feared they would realize the van wasn’t moving. In turn, that would lead them to realize I’d been watching. So I hit the gas and started driving the remaining few miles back to our house. All the while, the knowledge of what was going on behind me ate a hole in me from the inside. I tried to block it out as best I could.

I pulled into our long driveway and parked the car up near the house. I hadn’t heard any more sounds from the back of the van. Maybe they had been drowned out by the radio. Or maybe I had mentally blocked them out. When I cut the engine and the radio went silent, I still didn’t hear anything. I felt relieved. Maybe Mom had put a stop to it.

I was just about to get out when Mom popped her head through the curtain. For a split second I almost didn’t recognize her. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Her golden hair was messy. She didn’t look like herself. She told me to go on inside the house and that she’d be there in a few minutes. I asked what she meant. Why wasn’t she coming with me? She said she felt a little light-headed and needed to sit a while longer.

I wanted to trust her. She’d appeared tipsy only minutes before, so what she was saying was certainly possible. But for the first time I could remember, I felt like my mother wasn’t being honest with me. I said OK, that I would see her inside. She pulled her head back and then pulled the curtain to make sure it was closed. I knew right then she was lying.

I opened the driver’s door. I fully intended to slink away. To sit there quietly inside the house as my mother and cousin got up to God knows what in the back of his van. But for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to leave. So I slammed the door closed while still behind the wheel. Naturally, they assumed I’d left.

Perhaps I’ve blocked out some of what came next, or I just don’t recall all these years later. But the way I remember, it was almost immediately after I shut the door that the van started swaying and I heard my mother moaning again.

I clamped my eyes shut and tried to block out what I was hearing. I knew what was happening and I wanted to vomit. In a strange way I felt betrayed by my mother. More than that I felt humiliated. It had been my decision to stay in the van, but it felt like they were purposely rubbing my face in it. Even if I’d left, would I not look outside after a few minutes? Would I not see the van rocking back and forth? Did they not care if I knew?

I don’t remember how long I listened, but I eventually decided I needed to see it for myself. I opened the curtain a crack to look.

My cousin had a cooler in the back of his van. Red and white. I still remember the color because it’s what my mother was bent over while my cousin was screwing her. Her shirt was pulled up over her breasts. Her bra had been removed. My sainted mother was being fucked doggy style, her big breasts bouncing, moaning like she couldn’t get enough.

The sight of it burned me to my soul. But I couldn’t look away. The subconscious desire I had for my mother, feelings I had never previously admitted to myself, were suddenly thrust to the forefront. It was hitting me like a tidal wave. I sat there angry, humiliated, jealous, and as aroused as I’d ever been in my life.

From my point of view, I was looking at them from the side. I was in no danger of them seeing me through the little crack in the curtain. I watched until I couldn’t take it anymore, then sat there silently behind the wheel. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Still hard.

For my cousin, it wasn’t enough that he was fucking her. He had to talk throughout it. Saying he could tell how badly she needed it. That my dad must not be taking care of business. Asking her if she’d ever taken such a big dick. My mother never said a word in response. She just kept groaning and begging for more.

I don’t remember them finishing. The next thing I recall is hearing them getting dressed again, cleaning up. My mother suddenly sounded nervous and told my cousin he couldn’t tell anyone what they’d done. He told her not to worry. Then he told her how much he’d always wanted to fuck her. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

They left out the back of the van. I ducked down on the seats and peeked up over the dash as they went inside. A few minutes later I quietly left the van and ran out behind the house, like I’d been working on something back there. I don’t know how long I stayed outside, but I eventually made my way in through the back door.

My mother was in the kitchen. She said she’d wondered where I was. She came towards me with her arm out, as if to put it around me. For a moment I bristled, not wanting her to touch me. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her, so there was no sense in trying. I let her put her arm around me and then I pressed myself against her for a hug. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my head. She was being perfectly normal, like nothing had happened. But I could still smell the faint scents of sweat and sex on her

My cousin had a giant smirk on his face for the rest of his stay. Managing to fuck a blood relative, his mother’s sister, had made him even more arrogant than before. A few different times he said things to my father that seemed harmless at face value. But with the knowledge that he’d fucked my dad’s wife, I knew he was actually mocking him.

If there was any more inappropriate behavior between my mother and cousin, I didn’t see it. I spent Saturday night shadowing her, never letting her out of my sight. If they planned to slip away for a repeat performance of what happened that afternoon, I wanted to do my best to prevent it. But she never tried to get away. If anything, she seemed to enjoy having me at her side.

When he left the next day, he gave my mother a big hug. In front of my father, he went overboard praising her generous hospitality and thanking her for making him feel so welcome. Again, the kind of thing that seems begin on its face, but has deeper meaning when you know the truth of the matter.

Then he got in his van and drove away. Life went on. Naturally, my mother never spoke a word of what happened. Many times I thought about asking her respectfully. Confronting her angrily. Calmly telling her what I’d seen. Bitterly blaming her for the burden I now carried, a secret that could ruin our family. But I could never find the courage to do any of it.

That weekend forever changed how I viewed her. I still loved her. Even knowing what she’d done, she remained an angel in my eyes. But it was different. Now her wings were stained

To this day, late at night, when I’m alone, I picture her bent over that cooler. Her big breasts swaying while she moans. But instead of my cousin kneeling behind her, I imagine it’s me.

I hate that I have that image of her in my head. But after almost forty years, I still can’t stop thinking about it.

Last summer my Mom and I went to visit my Aunt Amy. She’s my fun aunt. And my hot aunt too. While we were there I met some of her girlfriends and none of them called her Amy. They called her “Soogs”. One just called her “Soog”. I asked her why they called her this weird name and she said it was a takeoff on her nickname, which is Sugar.

I asked why her nickname is Sugar and Mom changed the subject. It sounded like a stripper name to me so I wondered if maybe she used to be a stripper. It would fit her personality. Whenever I looked at her after that I would picture her stripping.

A couple days before we left to go back home, Aunt Amy and I were downstairs at her house and my mom was taking a shower upstairs. I asked her again why her nickname was Sugar. She said she wasn’t supposed to tell me on orders from my mom. I knew if my mom didn’t want me to hear then it must be a good story. I told her Mom not wanting me to know just made me want to know even more. She said Mom not wanting her to tell me made her want to tell me.

I asked if she had been a stripper and she cracked up. She said no but that it was a good guess. She told me that one time one of her girlfriends (the one who called her Soog) was kissing her and she said she tasted like sugar. She started calling her Sugar after that and the name stuck.

I was a little disappointed because it didn’t seem like such a big deal. I asked why she and her friend were kissing and she dodged the question. She just said girls do things like that sometimes.

Then she asked if I wanted to kiss her and see for myself. I said sure! She plopped down on the couch next to me and gave me a huge kiss. Closed mouth but still a big kiss. She asked if I could taste it. I smacked my lips together and said no, I didn’t taste sugar.

She laughed and said that made sense because it wasn’t her mouth where her girlfriend had been kissing her. I said where was she kissing you? She said a little farther down than her mouth. She gestured downward and I realized she meant her friend was eating her pussy. I guess her pussy must taste really sweet. That made more sense for why my mom didn’t want her telling me, since it was a sex story.

Her friend was hot so naturally I started to picture my hot aunt and her hot friend getting it on. She said she wasn’t a lesbian if that’s what I was wondering. Sometimes she and her friends just had fun together. I said I wasn’t wondering anything, I was picturing it. That made her laugh.

But I went hold on, why did you kiss me if I wouldn’t be able to taste it? She said she just wanted to kiss me. Then I asked if she really tasted like sugar down there. She shrugged and said that’s what she’s been told. Then she leaned into my ear and that I should come visit her without my mom and she’d let me find out for myself. She kissed me on the cheek three times real fast and then got up and walked away.

I sat there all flustered. I didn’t know if she was being serious or what. But a few days later when we were leaving, she said to my mom that we (her and I) had agreed I was going to come visit her by myself soon. My mom laughed and said “Like I’d let him be alone with you”.

So I dunno lol. There are no plans for me to visit that I know of. But I sure as fuck hope it happens.

Come here my nephew! Sit down beside me and tell me about all those girls you’ve been dating at college! Oh, grab me another gin and tonic too honey, I want to hear everything.

justmomandson: