Chapter 12
Too Much Alcohol For... Mom?
Frankie Robles stared at the red light, his foot stuck hard to the gas pedal while his other foot threatened to release the brake and send his car flying through the intersection. The twenty-two year-old looked to either side, but there were no cars approaching. It was almost eleven o'clock at night, for crying out loud!
If he hadn't agreed to work so late at the car detail place, he would have been at Aunt Cessy's house a long time ago, he knew. The problem was that he couldn't bring himself to say No when his boss asked him to work late. Not when he still had his wife's credit card bills hanging over his head like a sharp guillotine with a single unraveling thread keeping it aloft.
The reason he'd worked so late was because an important client had called the car detail shop and convinced the manager to keep the place open longer than usual. Money signs must have been flashing in front of Miguel's face, because they didn't shut down at seven like they were supposed to. Instead, the manager convinced most of the crew to hang out with him, while still on the clock, up until the distraught and desperate caller finally showed up.
And show up the client did, at just past eight and with a small fleet of limousines that smelled rank with booze, drugs, sex and vomit. The owner of the limo company promised Miguel a hefty bonus and big tips to all of the workers. The man explained that he needed the handful of limos cleaned up urgently because he got saddled with an unexpected event for the following afternoon. Big money was hanging in the balance.
Due to the priority rush, the gang of detailers, of which Frankie was a part of, geared up and attacked the mob of limos. The moment the oversized cars had come out of the exterior wash, Frankie rolled a commercial vacuum next to the first one. When he got busy sucking up random beads and marijuana seeds, he forgot all about going to his aunt's house. And now, it was almost eleven!
The light finally switched to green. After taking a deep breath, Frankie tried to reign in his impatience before he made himself an easy target for the first jackass cop that drove by. Aunt Cessy was still going to be home, he reminded himself, although by this time she might be drunk as a skunk. Cessy might be unable to do that little trick she did, where she induced herself into barfing up all the alcohol she had stocked up in her stomach. Frankie's own stomach churned just by thinking that she'd done that the last time he'd seen her.
What if he was too late? Frankie wondered. What if she had already gone to bed and refused to get up to fool around with him, because she had to go to work early the next morning?
Frankie almost smashed the steering wheel with his fist. Damn it! It had all been so simple. His younger cousin, Diamond, was spending the night at her friend's house. Aunt Cessy was going to have a few drinks with his mother, read as, they were both going to get liquored up and plastered. His job was to show up, take his mother back home, and very discreetly drive back to his aunt's house for some late night nookie. Through his mother, Aunt Cessy had even given him a copy of the key to her front door so he could let himself in. Why did everything have to go to crap that night?
Frowning, Frankie knew exactly why. His wife Carmela wanted to purchase everything she saw with her growing collection of plastic, and to reroute all of the bills in his direction. And ever since Frankie had discovered undeniable evidence that she'd been cheating on him, he no longer wanted to speak to his wife. He didn't even want to see her! Frankie was beginning to hate Carmela for humiliating him in front of his family, for all those times that Frankie's sisters had warned him about her, and for when he'd snapped back at them and argued that Carmela was a faithful girlfriend, and later, a good wife to him.
The young man made a couple more turns until he found himself on the correct block. Most of the residences had their lights off, Frankie noticed, which was good in a way, as there would be less people watching him park his car. Then his heart sank when he saw that his aunt's place was just as dark as the rest of the neighbors. Frankie pulled over, got out, and sullenly made his way to the front door. The motion sensor at the doorway gave him enough light to use his aunt's key and he let himself inside.
Aunt Cessy was asleep, he figured, as he took in the dark living room and hallway to the kitchen. The coffee table in the living room had already been cleared off of beer cans and bottles, and the only light left on was the mellow one leading up the stairs. Quietly, he walked up to the second level to take a peek into his aunt's bedroom.
Through the soft glow from the hallway, he could make out his aunt's slumbering form on her bed. She had the covers tossed around carelessly, with one leg thrown over and embracing a body pillow. Best of all, his aunt was nude. Her bare back and fat ass were facing him. For a long moment, Frankie simply stared at his aunt's enticing voluptuousness. As he began to imagine climbing into bed with her, Frankie felt something in his pants starting to stir up.
He couldn't go into her room smelling like a sewer. Back at the detail place, he'd sunk his knees into barf, phlegm, and who knew what else. There was no doubt in his mind that he had to take a thorough shower first and foremost.
Frankie stepped into the bathroom, clicking on the light and starting the shower before he shucked off his clothes. The water warmed up soon enough. As he went over the various soaps and shampoos, he decided to use the most fragrant of the bunch in order to get rid of whatever stench he'd brought in with his clothes. He knew he was going to smell like a fruit basket when he got out, but if that in any way brought him closer to what lay between Aunt Cessy's richly tanned thighs, then it would be a hardship he was willing to endure.
What a hot body his aunt had, he remembered. Big, double D breasts, and a size 38 backside, if the figures she'd whispered to him over the phone were accurate. Only one short hallway separated his naked body from his aunt's deliciously juicy one. His cock stood ready for action, brazen and proud, ready to do his bidding. Perhaps his aunt had considered stepping into the shower with him, Frankie hoped, when the bathroom door clicked open.
"Yeah?" He called out, as he wiped the last of the soap off his body. "I'll be out in a minute."
Without receiving any reply, the door shut. Frankie had no doubt that this was some sort of ruse to make him finish his shower faster. He turned off the water, snatching a peach colored towel from the rack, before wrapping it around his torso and abandoning his stinky clothes in the bathroom.
When Frankie peered into his aunt's bedroom, however, he found that she was still sound asleep. She rolled over on her back, allowing him to take in her enormous rack. As if to confirm that she'd never gotten off the bed, his aunt was snoring lightly.
Frankie stood there confused. Who'd opened the door to check on him then?
"Frankie, what do you think you're doing?"
His mother's cross voice made him freeze in his tracks. He'd completely forgotten that his mother might still be in the house, as he'd blindly assumed that she might have gotten somebody else to drive her home when he hadn't shown up. Not wanting to admit that he was checking out his naked aunt, Frankie slowly turned around to face her.
"I thought I heard a noise." He sheepishly excused himself.
