Me and Danny

All characters are over 18 when this story takes place.

No inappropriate activity happens with anyone under 18.

***

When I returned home from my mother's, I found my Thanksgiving guests scattered about my house. Martin, his brothers, his dad, and Chris were watching a football game in the living room. They were cheering loudly as our 70-inch television and Bose surround sound entertained them with testosterone fueled bouts of manliness. The children were zipping through, chasing each other. My mother-in-law was in a food coma upstairs in my bed, and my sisters-in-law were in the kitchen, sitting around the table and talking amongst themselves. Of course, they were helping themselves to my good wine, but whatever.

I didn't see Danny anywhere, so I assumed his natural introversion kicked in and made him escape to the safety of his room.

I had to talk to him. I had to get a handle on this "thing" between us. But I wasn't ready to do it yet. We were still hosting family, the house was a mess, and I had so many things to do.

Okay, okay. Those were excuses. I know. The reality was, I had no idea what I was going to say to him. Or how I felt. I know what I was supposed to feel, but those mature instincts of parental boundaries hadn't quite kicked in.

So, I just went to my go-to coping mechanism. I started cleaning up, even amid all the guests. I fended off my family's good-natured attempts at getting me to "take a load off" or telling me I deserved to relax after preparing such a wonderful meal. They didn't realize that I needed these mindless tasks. Working kept my hands busy, all the while allowing my mind to roam.

As I washed dishes (despite having a dishwasher) I kept replaying the episodes of "Me and Danny". My mind raced, but no matter how fast it went or in what direction, I kept coming up with the same one-word question.

Why?

Why did I unashamedly let him view my naked body? Why did I allow him to grope my ass, or touch me in such intimate ways? Why didn't I stop him? Why didn't it upset me?

Even now, the thought of Danny's hand on my ass didn't feel wrong. It should've. I'm twenty years older than him. He's my nephew. I've watched him grow up. And I'm married to a man that I love dearly.

I felt no shame about what I allowed Danny to do; however, I felt guilt for NOT feeling shame, if that makes any sense. What I didn't feel was any compulsion to stop him from rubbing his hands over my entire body.

If he wanted to grope my tits, I'd probably let him.

If he wanted to continue watching me shower, even going as far as to take a seat on the toilet to get a closer look, I'd probably let him.

If he asked to grope my tits and ass while I was standing naked in front of him, I'd probably let him.

So, the question was, where was my line? What else would I let him do? Kiss me intimately? Play with my pussy? Jerk off in front of me? Have me touch him?

Fuck me?

I shook my head at that. There. That was my line.

Whew! I felt a little relieved knowing that I did have SOME limits.

As if on cue, Danny walked into the kitchen. Normally I felt his eyes on me before I saw him, but today I was too lost in thought. His feet were as silent as cat's paws, and he crept up on me with the stealth of a ninja.

"Do you need help, Aunt Ronnie?" he asked, his voice violently ripping me from my thoughts. I almost jumped out of my skin. My eyes darted towards the table, where a few of my in-laws were drinking and talking. Danny seemed to pick up on my "no hanky-panky" signal with a nod. Still, he rolled up his sleeves and began clearing off the table.

There was such a swelling in my heart watching him. I didn't have to ask for his help, emotionally blackmail him, or use any guilt trips. Unlike my husband or son, Danny wanted to help me.

I didn't realize I was staring at him until he caught my eye. He smiled sweetly at me, communicating in our secret language that was reserved for our little world.

One of my sisters in law, Kathy, broke into our world unknowingly. Now, of all of Martin's sisters, I liked Kathy the least. She had an affinity for...let's just say...marrying for the wrong reasons. She didn't fall in love with men, she fell in love with wallets. Currently going through her third divorce, she was in the midst of a nasty court battle.

There's something about living a life of wealth, even if it's unearned, that makes people overestimate their value. Despite Kathy's contentious lawyer battle, her lonely life, and the fact that her relationship with her daughters was more transactional than loving, she still felt superior to everyone. She was a prissy, pompous, know-it-all busy body.

No matter how well Chris or Danny were doing, her girls were doing better, and she never let a moment slide by that she didn't allude to it in some way. If we mention how great Chris is doing in college, she goes into a story of all the wonderful things her oldest was doing at Yale. I told people about Danny's video game and how he was planning to sell it, she made sure to talk about the internship her youngest just got at Sony. And if she didn't have a story that was able to compete, she'd simply give compliments laced with condescension.

Like now, as she watched Danny help me unprompted, she awwwed, "Oh my goodness, Veronica! Danny is actually helping you clean? And you didn't even have to ask! He may not be doing much with his future like my girls are, but at least you trained him to be such a good boy around the house."

The rest of the women laughed at Danny's expense, but I didn't. Maybe I was too close to the situation, but inferring that Danny was some type of puppy to be trained to do tricks kind of irritated me.

I looked at Danny, who was still silently cleaning despite the laughter around him. He didn't respond to his other aunt. He just suffered in silent embarrassment, unable to defend himself on a fear of being rude to his elders.

I was pissed. How dare this arrogant bitch!

"I never had to

train

Danny." I said, the venom coming out in my voice. "Cynthia, your late sister, taught him well long before he came to stay with us. He's a good man, not a good boy, because of HER. And for your information, Danny IS doing something with his future. Not everyone goes to college. And just because someone is in college, it doesn't mean they have a future. Isn't Caroline (her oldest daughter) failing most of her classes?"

Next to me, I heard Danny stifle a laugh. He had to cover it up with a cough.

All other laughter stopped, though. The women sitting at my table looked at me with a gasped shock. But I didn't care. Don't come for my Danny unless you're prepared for ME!

Me and Kathy were at a stand-off. Each of us were glaring at the other. The mood threatened to become awkward, but Danny broke the tension by jokingly adding, "It didn't hurt that Auntie Ronnie gave me Scooby Snacks every time I did something good."

The ladies at the table laughed at that, all but Kathy. She was sitting there, looking like someone popped a lemon in her mouth to suck. Danny looked at me, and in our secret language, he thanked me for having his back.

The rest of the evening was a blur for me. Danny and I cleaned together about as well as we cooked together. It was so easy to be around him. Our personalities meshed well together.

However, there was an inner turmoil raging inside of me. Even though nothing was physically happening right now between us, I still felt a level of guilt. It was only a matter of time before we found ourselves alone again, or I was taking a shower in front of his watching eyes. What would I say? How could I end this thing and return us to aunt and nephew without hurting his feelings? Did I even want to?

Eventually, the people around me started filing out, each heading towards their own home. They made sure to take a few plates of free food with them.

Naturally, Chris headed out too. He wanted to visit his girlfriend and her family. I was starting to wonder how serious he was about this girl. Were there any grandbabies in my future?

But, as usual, I said nothing. He always got touchy about that. So, my curiosity remained unquenched.

By the time it was just the three of us, the kitchen was back to normal. I could feel Danny's eyes on me, and I knew he was waiting for an opportunity to get his hands on my body. I was still having conflicting feelings about that, so I left him and went out in search of my husband.

I found him in the living room. However, he wasn't sitting on the couch like I expected. He was putting on his coat while on his cell phone, talking to god knows who. Not even pausing his conversation to dress, he had to alternate which ear the phone was on, and which hand was doing the holding as he slipped his arms into each sleeve.

"Okay. Alright. I'm headed in now." I heard him say, obviously catching the tail end of a conversation. I knew what this meant. We'd done this song and dance before, and honestly, it irritated me each time.

Already knowing the answer to my question, I asked, "Where you going?"

"I have to head into the office. They think we've been compromised." He said kind of dismissively.

His phone call sounded urgent, and his demeanor spoke wonders about how important this was. I could tell he was in a hurry, but my annoyance wasn't listening to reason. All I saw was him leaving me on Thanksgiving after I spent all night cooking for him and our family.

"Who makes their employees work on Thanksgiving?" I asked petulantly.

Martin huffed and rolled his eyes, his own exasperation with this argument showing through. "Veronica (he always calls me by my full name when he's mad at me), I'm the head security consultant at the firm. You know that's not a 9 -- 5 job. They pay good money for me, and they don't care about me punching some clock. So, when someone breaches our security, I'm expected to head in, no matter what day it is."

"But..."

Interrupting me, he waved his hand around him, as if bringing attention to our surroundings. "Do you like this house?" he asked. I knew where this was going, and I had no defense against it. All I could do was fold my arms underneath my tits and huff as he continued with, "Do you like the cars? The fact that we can send Chris to a good school and know that he'll have a future without owing student loans? What about the vacation we took to Ibiza? You know what pays for all that?"

"Fine." I said blandly as I threw my hands up. "Go to work. Leave your family on Thanksgiving. It's nice to know we matter."

"Veronica..."

"You're gonna be late!" I yelled over my shoulder as I walked away from him.

Okay, so I was being a bit unfair. I can admit when I'm being an unreasonable bitch. But with him leaving, I was forced to deal with that which I wasn't ready to deal with. I wasn't even mad at Martin. I was upset because of THAT.

I heard our front door open and close. Martin was gone, probably for most of the night. As if on cue, I heard movement behind me, a shuffling of feet. Then, Danny's voice asked, "You okay Auntie Ronnie?"

"Uhh...yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

He stepped closer to me, bringing himself within arm's reach. I dodged away from him, trying not to seem fidgety and nervous. Just for something to fill the awkwardness, I said, "Thank you for helping me out earlier. You know...with the kitchen."

"No problem." He said with a shrug. "I'll always help you if you need it. You don't even have to ask."

You see? It's shit like that that makes it impossible to have this conversation with him. He's so...god damn sweet! And generous! And caring! How can I turn him away when he was nothing but good to me?

"Thank you." Was all I could say.

Once again, he stepped forward. This time, I didn't back away. The two of us just stood there, a few feet apart, looking at each other. He was staring at me like he wanted to say something. I was doing the same.

Finally, he broke our standoff by shyly asking, "Can I ask a favor, Aunt Ronnie?"

"Yeah, of course. Anything." I said automatically, not realizing what I was REALLY saying.

He broke eye contact and looked at the ground before he asked, "Can I...uhh...give you a hug?"

In any other situation, with any other family member, this would be an innocent question. But this wasn't any other family member; it was Danny. And I knew that he wanted more than a hug.

Still, I asked, "Just a hug?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing else?"

He seemed taken aback by this question. For the first time, I was verbally eluding to the fact that there was something between us that wasn't innocent.

"Uhh...no. Nothing else." He said, as if unsure of what he was saying.

I was the one who stepped into him. I was the one who wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek into his chest. I felt him wrap around me and squeeze me close.

I'm not going to lie. It felt good.

The hug lasted far longer than one an aunt and nephew would share. Added to that, my body was pressed tightly into his, my tits smashed against his chest. And I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck.

After an eternity, we finally parted a little. Not fully, just my head from his chest. We were still wrapped around each other, so when I looked up at him, his face was right there.

I knew it was coming. I had time to stop it. All my worries from earlier today came flooding back to me. But as I stood there, everything I was going to say to Danny disappeared. That "talk" that we were supposed to have was gone.

When his lips descended upon mine, I didn't stop him. In fact, I craned my neck to make my lips more available and met him halfway. When his tongue brushed across my lips, I parted them and granted entry into my mouth.

This was no longer just a hug. Or a kiss. This was...more. Way more.

The sounds of our making out filled the air. Loud breathing. Moans. The smacking of our lips every time they separated for that split second. The more I kissed him, the more I wanted to kiss him. I felt an unquenchable urge to be closer to him, so I started grinding my body against his.

But even this wasn't close enough. I needed more.

He must have felt it too because his hands started to slide down my back. When they grabbed my ass, they squeezed the soft flesh and pulled my hips in closer to his groin.

It was then that I felt his erection. My nephew was hard. For me.

I stood in my kitchen -- the one my husband purchased for me, the one I cooked for my family in, the one I'd made lunches for Danny and Chris in over the years -- and I made out with my nephew. We full-on made out like lovers do, right before the clothes come off.

It became clear what my body wanted; the closeness it craved. It wanted Danny inside of me.

I was ready to take him upstairs to my bedroom. I was ready to lay him down on the bed my husband and I slept in and make love to him. I was ready to accept his hard penis into my warm wetness.

But that very desire snapped me out of the fog I was in. It made me step outside of my body and look at myself. Here I was -- a woman on the cusp of 40 -- making out with my 19-year-old nephew. I was literally twice his age.

"Oh my god!"

I thought as I watched myself.

"What is wrong with me?"

I gasped as I tore myself away from him. A horrified feeling came over me as I looked at his confused face. For the first time, I felt the guilt and shame I should've been feeling all along. This was so perverse.

My face must've matched my feelings because as Danny looked at me, his expression became an apology before the words even made it to his lips.

"Auntie Ronnie..."

Just hearing

Auntie Ronnie

reiterated how fucked up this was. I was his AUNT. He was my fucking NEPHEW.

I pushed him back to create a little space between us. My fingers touched my lips; the very lips that were just trying to devour his face. Disbelief filled me.

With an involuntary sob, I ran away from him. He was saying something behind me, but I couldn't hear anything above my footsteps as I ran up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom. Once inside, I did something I'd rarely done in all the years I've lived here.

I locked the fucking door.

***

As I laid on my bed, guiltily crying over my incestuous desires, my phone dinged with a text message. I almost missed it, me wailing into my pillow and all. I thought it might be Martin, or maybe Chris, letting me know he wasn't going to be home tonight.

It was neither. It was Danny.

I almost didn't read it for fear of what was inside. After a short debate with myself, I eventually succumbed and opened it.

"Aunt Ronnie, did I do something wrong?"

After careful consideration of what to say, I responded.

"No baby.

I did.

I shouldn't have let that happen."

I pressed "send". Then I sat on my bed with pins and needles poking me as I awaited his response. It took a few minutes before my phone dinged again.

"Why not?

It was the best moment of my life."

That right there made me want to break down in tears all over again. On the one hand, I felt so...wanted. Never had I felt so desired. Danny enjoyed my body, satisfying himself on the barest of contact with it. If he only got to look at me from afar, or sniff my essence from my dirty panties, he was okay with that. Just a touch of my butt, or a kiss from my lips was enough for him.

Yes, Martin desired me and made me feel sexy, but he could have me anytime he wanted. Or any other woman, for that matter. I couldn't tell you how often women have hit on him right in front of me or told me how lucky I was to have such a handsome husband.

Danny only knew the few liberties I allowed him, and yet it was the best moment of his life.

Sigh.

Regrettably, I was forced to type the words that a responsible adult would type, despite how I felt about them.

"This has to stop.

No more."

This time, there was a long pause. I thought he was done with me, so I almost plugged my phone back in and laid it on the nightstand. However, his next message came through, and it made my heart skip.

"No.

I don't wanna stop.

I love looking at u.

I love touching u.

I masturbate every nite to the scent of ur panties.

U r the sexiest woman alive, and I don't wanna stop."

Oh my god!

Honestly, I didn't know what to say to that. I was stunned. So, I said nothing. I just didn't respond. I left him on "read".

10 minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. It was soft, almost pleading for me to let him in. I just laid there, silent.

"Aunt Ronnie. Let me in. Please."

I didn't move a muscle. I couldn't let him in -- not because I was afraid of him, but because I was afraid of ME. I had no idea what I'd allow him to do to me if I opened that door.

"Aunt Ronnie...please."

My heart broke. Even through the door, I could hear the agony in his pleas. I hated hearing that. it was even worse knowing I was the one who caused it.

I got up from my bed and walked over to my door. My fingers reached for the lock and was almost ready to twist it. But I stopped. I knew if I opened that door, a line would be crossed that we couldn't come back from.

With a catch in my throat, I regrettably yelled out, "No, Danny. No more. Enough is enough."

And then...there was silence. From him and me. We just stood there on opposite sides of the door, not saying anything. But even with this thick wooden barrier between us, I could feel him.

"Okay." He said finally, after the pause threatened to eat us alive. "I'll respect your wishes. I'll leave you alone. But...you should know that..."