Thank you to a keen reader who asked me to write this story on a plot line that she suggested. Hope you like the finished product Jen.
*****
Chapter One
I guess I've done ok to get this far in life. My given name is Jennifer although all my friends call me Jen. My 20
th
birthday was back in November last. My younger brother and I grew up with a good set of parents -- at least in the early years - but my little world was rocked when my dad left us when I was 14. He blamed mom, said she didn't love him anymore. Mom blamed Dad, said he'd been chasing after this younger woman who was the mother of one of the kids in the little league baseball team that my dad coached.
I always thought of myself as daddy's little girl so it really did my head in when he left. I couldn't believe that he would desert me like that, let alone my brother and mother ... mom was essentially the person he was separating from, the one that he claimed didn't love him anymore. Oh, there were promises, a lot of words that the passage of time would prove didn't mean much.
I mean, dad said we'd still catch up a couple of times a week, and we did for the first month. Then, it was more like once a week, then fortnightly. Lately, I'd be lucky to see him from one month to the next. Of course, now that I'm 20, I don't even see mom that much. I moved interstate to attend college.
Dad had been such a key father figure, a male influence in my life, and even mom recognised that I should have one. She did her best to find a substitute man to offer guidance to me. No, I don't mean that she tried to find a boyfriend to take dad's place. Oh my God no, mom was so shattered by dad leaving her at such a critical time in her life that she swore she would never look for a replacement man in her life.
Critical time? Well, mom had just turned 40 -- the big 4-0 -- and had found that age milestone was quite a hurdle to jump over. Within weeks of hitting 40, she got the first hint from a close friend of hers about dad's pursuit of the junior baseball team mother, the one who ingratiated herself with dad by bringing the cut-up oranges and washing the team uniforms.
So, with no dad around day-by-day, I was vulnerable as a 15-year-old teen and mom tryied to encourage me to talk with an assorted array of men that she lined up to supposedly give me sage advice that only a father should. Stay on the straight and narrow path, achieve good grades at school and don't get mixed up with the wrong kind of guys, what life obstacles to try to avoid.
Some of these guys were passable and most meant well, a couple were neighbours and mom encouraged the husbands of two of her best friends to call by to officially counsel me. But then there was mom's step-brother, much older than mom, he must have been way over 50. Although he had a different dad to my mom, they were quite close and their mom - my grandma -- being still alive, kept them in regular contact.
This was my Uncle Harry, in his second marriage to Aunt Lynette ... she was way younger than him, even a couple of years younger than my mom. I never had a lot to do with him when I was younger. I think my dad didn't like him because I often heard him making derogatory comments about Uncle Harry. But after dad left, mom seemed to invite Uncle Harry around more often, sometimes with Aunt Lynette, but it seemed a lot of times on his own. Annoyingly, he had a nickname for me, he called me Squirrel.
It was ok when mom was home, but on several occasions, he came by while mom was out. Those times, I found that he tended to find an excuse to sit or stand up close to me, perhaps accidentally touch me. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean that he ever touched any private parts, like my pussy or tits, but I always worried that he could be capable of it. No, it was more like touches on my hands, my arms, my back, my knees, even a couple of times his hand would brush my ass if we passed close to each other. It was also the way he looked at me when mom wasn't around, kind of leering and I would wonder what he was thinking when I saw him doing that. Oh, he usually gave me the creeps, fitting the image of what some of my friends would call a dirty old man. But as I said, that behaviour was usually only when mom wasn't home.
Because of that, I became reluctant to let him in if he dropped by on his own while mom was out. He took exception to my rejecting his visits at these times, even told mom and she got quite angry with me. I tried to tell her about the casual touching, but she wouldn't hear of it, said I was imagining it, even accused me of being rude and impolite to her brother. She said that, 'my brother' ... I wanted to remind her that he was only her step brother, but that sounded petty on my part.
Anyway, I haven't had to go through that lately. Not since I moved out of home and came to this town to start college last September. Yes I know, I was 19, a year older than most freshmen, but I had chosen to take a gap year. Much to mom's annoyance, dad helped fund my travels to and through Europe. I accepted his financial assistance because I figured he owed me something big like that for walking out on his family.
I'm also not in a sorority house, my opinion was that they are too regimented, so I chose to live off campus, renting a small apartment. This gives me a lot more freedom to have my new boyfriend to stay over whenever I'm feeling particularly randy ... and I must confess that seems to be more and more often these days. I lost my virginity ... well, didn't actually lose it ... more like generously gave it away to a wonderful French hunk while on my travels in Europe. There's nothing like having regular sex to make a young woman feel really great. My new boyfriend? That's Jerry, he's a bit older than me ... 23, actually finished college and is working, has a job in a bank.
Mom called me the other day, "So Jen, have you heard from your father lately?"
"No mom, not for a few weeks, I guess he's been busy."
"Too busy for his little girl, that's not right. Tell you what, I'm asking Uncle Harry to drop by and see you, make sure you're doing ok."
"Mom, I don't need Uncle Harry to come see me."
"Yes you do, he's family Jennifer. I'll see what he's doing this weekend."
I continued to tell her that I didn't need a visit from Uncle Harry, but my words fell on deaf ears.
She called me back a couple of hours later, "Ok Jennifer, it's all set, he's coming by Sunday morning. He jumped at the chance to see you again, says he's missed you since you went away..."
"I'll bet he has."
"What's that supposed to mean honey?"
"Nothing mom."
"I don't think you appreciate how much he loves you honey, your Uncle Harry just adores you. Anyway, I've given him your address and he said he'll come by around ten ... ok?"
"Yes mom, thanks! Is he bringing Aunt Lynette with him too?"
"No, you know she's expecting, she's eight months now, the baby could come anytime, so she doesn't like the prospect of a 90-minute car trip each way."
The last thing I wanted was for Uncle Harry to know where I lived. I'd felt much freer now that I was out of home, knowing there was no likelihood of his just dropping by unannounced. He had seemed to have an uncanny knack of knowing when mom wasn't at home.
First thing I did that night was to ask my boyfriend if he could come by Sunday morning so that I wasn't alone in my apartment when Uncle Harry came by. "Oh honey, I've got team practice Sunday morning, you know that," he told me, referring to the softball team he signed up to recently.
