My parents were killed in a car accident when I was three. My uncle Bill, my mother's brother and his wife, Susan, raised me, they themselves being all but 22. I have no memory of my biological parents with my uncle and aunt being all I have ever known in a parental role. I referred to them as being my parents growing up in order to fit in with the other kids. They had me call them by name, never putting on to me to reference them as a mom or dad even though in a real sense, they were. They raised me but always educated me on my biological parents.
They were different from most in an almost flower child way, believing in free love. They were nudists which meant there was no discomfort about nudity around the house or otherwise. We spent many a summer at a nudist camp filled with people of all ages and types. It was a healthy environment. Nudity to them was a natural state which was to be celebrated not shamed. We slept in the raw, and to walk around nude in the home wasn't the norm but not unusual either. We saw each other in the buff thousands of times. No big deal.
For 16 years we were very close as a family. Very close. I never knew or sensed that all of that love, affection and happiness would or could crumble and suddenly. When I was nineteen my uncle left us without warning for another woman, devastating both myself and my aunt. Both of us were heartbroken.
My aunt unable to have children of her own, thought I to be a miracle in their lives. My uncle abandoning us as he had, brought my aunt and I even closer than ever with each of us needing the other for emotional support. My aunt always called me her little man. The truth however was that unlike my uncle who was five foot seven and weighing a buck and a half, I was very much like my biological father. He was a very large man just shy of six eight, a height that I too reached by eighteen. My aunt is a very petite woman, five foot and has never weighed more than one-twenty.
I remember hearing her sobbing every night for months after he left. On many of those nights I would crawl into bed with her and hold her, consoling her until she slept. Even though we both slept in the raw, nothing remotely sexual ever took place.
A year or so after my uncle leaving, she was fine sleeping alone. The crying had all but stopped but for the rare occasions where I would comfort her or if she was feeling insecure, she would ask that I sleep with her. Things were becoming more stable.
On one night, I woke up to pee and as I was up, I heard a moaning. I listened at my aunt's door. She sounded as if she was in pain. I opened her bedroom door to find her splayed out nude on her bed with a back massager applied to her pussy with one hand and her holding a pillow over her face with the other.
