When I graduated high school (which was three days after my 18th birthday), I was still debating which area I wanted to major in while in college. My parents had been lobbying for me to go into pre-law but deep down I really wanted to be a doctor specializing in internal medicine. While I always respected my parents opinions, on this issue I wouldn't budge and for some reason this became an ongoing discussion about which profession was more 'noble' – Lawyer or Physician. In my view, it was a no-brainer but my parents still held out hope that their youngest son (of three) would be the lawyer of the group.
However, my mom's sister Linda (7 years older than my mom who was a well preserved 41 when I graduated that day) had always been my own 'personal advocate'. Linda and I were very close for some reason – she was my favorite aunt; I, her favorite nephew. I never really knew why... we just were. Linda had been married once but divorced her husband rather quietly and quickly when she found out about his philandering down at a gay bar in the nearest town. The guy was an idiot – Linda was a very beautiful woman in my view and had a personality that was magnetic.
But Linda never remarried after those brief 4 years of marriage and while she dated some, she always told me that she had been hoping to find someone who just didn't seem to exist. I felt sorry for her actually. I knew she was lonely just by the number of times she seemed to always be popping in at our house (she lived about 3 miles from us and out in the sticks just as we were). Linda and my mom were very close in spite of the 7 years between them and I knew my mom valued that. So, in a way it was good for both of them to have so much time together. Life is short, you know...
That evening after my graduation open house, Linda had stuck around to help mom clean up the place. It wasn't anything fancy – just some sandwiches, finger foods, and the usual get-together picnic-type foods. A big crowd had flowed through fairly steadily all afternoon and the number of envelopes on the 'gift table' was much larger than I had imagined. It looked to be a great day after all.
As I came back downstairs from stashing all the 'loot', I thought I heard a car start and pull out. It was then I noticed that Linda wasn't there.
"Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Where did Linda go?"
"She said to tell you she was sorry she had to leave but that she needed to go and let her dog out and she needed to get home to take care of him. She did say if you had time, she hoped you could stop over since she forgot your card and gift when she came over this morning."
Well, that wasn't any big deal to me. I didn't really expect a gift from anyone and especially Linda. I knew she didn't have a lot of money but she did seem to have enough to get by. It was just great that she came. I did feel a little awkward going to her house just to get a gift – almost like I was being mercenary. But when I raised that with Mom, she just pooh-poohed it and said to get over there because she knew Linda would be expecting me and that she might want to go out later since it was a Friday night.
So, with Mom's words of encouragement, out the door I went, jumped in my Jeep (a used one my Dad had co-signed for) and down the dusty lane I went and on out onto the highway towards Linda's place. It was a glorious late May evening, nearly 8pm. The crops were already getting a good start and long green rows of corn and soybeans were everywhere.
The air smelled clean and fresh; not a cloud was in the bluest of skies as I drove the short jaunt to my aunt's house. Long shadows covered the road from the trees growing alongside and I noted a hawk circling lazily off in the distance. In just a few minutes, I was in her driveway and walking up the sidewalk to her front door.
When I knocked on Linda's door, I heard a muffled voice say, "Come on in, Tom. The door's open."
I opened the door and stepped inside. Linda's house was a bit smaller than ours but it was paid for, a fact she liked to laugh about since she got the house from the divorce. It was decorated tastefully – Linda had an eye for the 'just right' look, she liked to brag. She didn't like gaudy clutter in her home and I had to admit, it looked good.
As I walked on in, I could smell fresh bread and almost immediately "Killer" came racing out from the kitchen to greet. Killer is Linda's dog – a Yorkie. She and I often laughed at the name she bestowed upon the tiny dog but she said it suited his personality. I didn't get it but did think it was funny just the same – Killer might lick you to death but he wouldn't even bite a flea! I scooped him and headed on into the kitchen to see what it was that smelled so good.
Rounding the doorway in the kitchen, I saw Linda bent over and reaching into the oven, pulling out two pans of the absolute greatest smelling bread you can imagine. Linda's bread is legendary in our family and is always the first food to disappear during get-togethers. The batch that day was no exception – it was heavenly. But the smell of the bread wasn't the only note-worthy thing my senses picked up on.
Linda's backside was directly in front of me and as she was bent over, her shapely behind looked like a denim heart. Immediately, I felt guilty! I had never, ever thought of Aunt Linda in that way! Yet, I couldn't help but stare at her ass and even as I did so, I could feel my manhood stir. This troubled me greatly. How in the world could I be having sexual urges toward my aunt who was nearly 30 years older than me?! I quickly tried to dismiss it but didn't have much success because as I stood there staring at Linda's ass in those denim shorts (which were wonderfully short revealing her gorgeous thighs) I could hear her talking but I wasn't listening. I finally just had to turn away and seat myself at her table.
As I sat down, Linda stood up and set the two loaves on the top of the black glass-top stove to cool.
"Want some lemonade, Tom? I just made it this morning and it's ice-cold!" Her deep brown eyes sparkled as she grinned at me and it was then I noticed that she had on a loose fitting plaid shirt, probably an old one from her former husband. For being an older woman, I found her damn sexy that evening.
"Uh... yeah, sure! That would be great."
I watched her get the pitcher from the fridge and pour a glass.
"Aren't you going to have some too, Linda?"
Just as I asked that, I felt like a dummy. On the counter by the toaster was a tall glass of burgundy. I had forgotten that Linda was a wine connoisseur and often liked to have a glass or two in the evening. From looking at her state of dress, I guessed she wasn't going out for the evening.
"Here Tom, before I forget again!"
She handed me two envelopes. I opened the one that said "Open this one first!" first – for the obvious reason – and found a nice card inside that had a very sweet note from her about how proud of me she was. I then looked up at her and saw her nodding her head, causing her shoulder length brown hair to sway with the movement – another sexy thing for some odd reason on this oddest of days.
Inside this envelope was a handmade coupon of sorts. It read:
"Good for one evening with your favorite aunt which will be an evening of fun and delightful food!" She had drawn cute pictures of two people at a dinner table, plates with steaks upon them, and what appeared to be tickets lying on the table next to the plate. I looked up at her with a questioning look...
