Dear Cousin Annie
A Bro Robinson story
By Bro Robinson
At dear cousin Annie's funeral one of the women who stood to speak jogged my memory when she told the room that Annie was fluent in three languages -- same as her Mom. Both women spoke and read English, French and Arabic. I had not thought about that for years, but it was one of the many reasons why I tended to think of Annie as older than me, even though we were the same age. Annie was a lot more worldly than I was, and I considered her to be a teacher in many areas, including and especially sex.
Aunt Jean was trilingual because she was born and raised in Sidi bel Abbes, Algeria. Sidi bel Abbes was heavily colonized by the French and the town had the nick name Petite Paris, and definitely had a Paris vibe. Arabic was the national language of Algeria. Whatever Aunt Jean knew, she taught Annie as well.
Uncle Jack and Aunt Jean, following closely the low home prices in the neighborhood, found and purchased a bargain two streets over from Grandma Pearl's house on Hague Avenue, on North Chase Avenue, a shady quiet street with no outlet because of the RR tracks. I liked it that my aunt, uncle, grandma and Annie would all be living in the same neighborhood. But I would soon like the quiet street for other more erotic reasons.
The boon of the move for me was that as Annie, Aunt Jean, and I loved swimming, and we would spend a lot of time at the outdoor Valleyview swimming pool. There are so many great memories of swimming there. Valleyview Pool was nestled just off Hague and adjacent to the RR tracks. You could easily walk there from Grandma's or Aunt Jean's. Dad would frequently offer to drive us to the pool in his new car, but we always insisted on walking. I had my reasons that focused solely on ogling Annie from behind as she walked in her swim suit. I am a butt man and Annie's was most shapely.
At the pool, I quickly learned how Aunt Jean and Annie used language. If they were conversing with you it was English. If they wanted to gossip about someone, at the pool they used French in conspiratorial tones.
I picked up quite a bit of French that way over the years. If Aunt Jean called out, "Bro, viens ici tout de suite!" I knew I had better get moving. But it wasn't until the end of summer that I ever heard any Arabic. The lifeguard had called time for a rest and we climbed out of the pool to walk to the towels and swim accessories. We did not notice at first but Aunt Jean quickly discovered that the sunscreen bottle was missing. Perhaps we had forgotten it. No. Not possible.
By chance a middle aged woman on a towel adjacent to ours happened to uncover the missing bottle when she moved in her sleep. Jean and Annie both saw it. Jean stood up and gave the woman's ankle a sharp nudge with her foot and started yelling at her in a language I had never heard before. Now Annie joined in and she was just as upset. The woman, like me, understood nothing except to know that she was in big trouble. Aunt Jean grabbed the bottle and continued her tirade. Annie, at this point was holding her hands over my ears, her face beet red.
What in the world was being said? I would not find out until months later and my shocked and blushing reaction was: "You mean people actually do that?" Annie made me swear never to talk about it. And so for the longest time I thought Arabic was a special language used only to tell someone off and/or sexually abuse them.
THAT CHLORINE ITCH
I don't think it was planned, but after they moved to the near West Side and realized how much they liked the Valleyview swimming pool, Aunt Jean and Annie started inviting me to swim with them every Saturday while Uncle Jack put in overtime. Though I was driving now, we still walked to the pool.
They knew how much I loved swimming from having watched me on numerous occasions from the YMCA natatorium bleachers with my Mom and usually my sister -- where we boys all swam naked. That was the rule back then and there were no exceptions. I was comfortable with it because it was all I ever knew and knowing that Annie liked watching me swim naked made it more pleasurable for me as well.
Usually this happened on parents' day when we would demonstrate what we had learned to the public, and yes, sans swim suits, as per custom.
With the move to the west side, I had graduated from the swim classes by this time. They (meaning all the women) had been there for that big occasion as well. I had learned I could get Annie's attention by bouncing on my heels several times to make it flop. I liked watching her eyes get bigger and then blush. And graduation from the Y that day was no exception.
But with the YMCA swim classes far behind me, Saturday afternoons at Valleyview pool were something I especially looked forward to. I had not yet started teaching classes at the Y but I will always remember it as the best summer of my life. The swimming was great and being with Annie, who was filling out nicely, was even better, especially her butt.
There was one thing however that none of us liked about the Valleyview pool. I don't know who was in charge of putting chlorine in the water at Valleyview but I quickly learned to bring goggles with me if I wanted to swim with my eyes open under water, otherwise the sting was quite intense. But it was worth it because I could swim toward and through Annie's parted legs, sometimes copping a feel as I passed through them. Sometimes Annie would even move the crotch of her swim suit aside to give me an eye popping but secret view. But the down side was those skin rashes down there were all too frequent now. At least they were usually successfully treated with lotion.
After an hour or two of swimming at Valleyview we would walk back to the house in our suits. Though we would be dry, our suits would still be damp and Aunt Jean insisted that we remove them as soon as we got inside to keep the fabric from deteriorating, and getting the irritating chlorine off of our skin. Skin rashes seemed to be the main issue now, and Aunt Jean would make it a point to scrub my back in the shower where I couldn't reach. And I would scrub Annie's back and then her front as well, especially her breasts and nipples.
Upon arriving back at the house, we would walk into the bathroom and immediately strip down together just as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I was loving it. They had seen me naked often enough. Now I was getting to see them naked too every Saturday! The two women seemed to like seeing my inevitable erection, which was the immediate result of seeing them both nude. Annie's breasts had fully developed and she was now sprouting a nice bit of pubic hair as was I. Aunt Jean always praised how big I was getting "down there" and Annie would heartily agree which encouraged me to point it at them proudly and give it a stroke or two which would make them laugh.
Like usual, Aunt Jean was making a big deal out of being sure we got the chlorine out of every crevice as it was so irritating to the skin. No argument there!
But on this particular Saturday, something more was in the air. After I parked the car, Annie surprised me at the door wearing a new string bikini that was much more racy than her modest one piece. "How do you like it Bro? Do you think it shows too much skin?" Simple, light yellow, splashed with little red hearts, it was super snug in all the right places, noticeably at the crotch which showed off her labia. I would later learn from Annie that is was her camel toe and she liked me looking at it.
It was difficult not to stare at her. It was pretty daring, I thought. That I could see her developing cleavage was more than enough stimulation for me, nevermind that the bottom piece barely covered her ample butt cheeks and I could see the darker outline of her nipples under the thin fabric. Did it even have a liner? I would later learn that she removed it for my viewing pleasure.
"So, by your staring I take it you like my new swim suit. I bought it for my 15th birthday but I haven't had the nerve to wear it until now."
