Auntie's Aberrations

"Oh, it's just social…kind of a floating membership…old people from the area meeting new people…stuff like that!" said Ginny. "JJ and I were members twenty years ago." My mom's eyes were on her the whole time, yet she said nothing.

I laid down my fork, unable to eat any more Eggs Benedict. "Well…the guys are coming over for a swim, as usual. You want me to fix dinner?" I asked.

"Oh, maybe we should just have a salad," said Mom. "We'll be having a big lunch and will snack at the club. You and the boys could order a pizza."

"Okay. Well, if you'll excuse me I'll spend some time on my journal before Nnamdi and Seiji get here. Let me know when you leave."

I went to my bedroom, closed the door and fell on the bed. I was crestfallen. How could she? I asked myself. How could she go to that sex club today after what we'd done yesterday? Hadn't my love been good enough? And Mom, too!Sheseemed to be okay with everything…yet she, too, was going to that place where people who didn't even know each other just…just fucked! And took pictures of it! IlovedAunt Ginny…Auntie Uma…whatever. Why was she hurting me?

Maybe I was being paranoid. Always look on the positive side, said my swimming coach, as well as my mom. Maybe I'd talk with the guys when they arrived. No…they wouldn't understand. "Yeah?" I responded to a tap on the door. Getting up, it was Mom and Ginny, waiting to hug me goodbye. I responded stiffly as they embraced me, feeling confused. Ireallyneeded to do my 200 laps.

"Have a great day, honey," said Ginny. "I'll be thinking of you!"

Yeah, right, I thought, as my spirits took another nosedive. My insides hurt so much I felt as if I'd been poisoned. My love for Ginny was being thrown back in my face. I'd never before felt so betrayed.

******

"Okay, man, where's your aunt?" asked Seiji when he arrived. "I wore my cast iron jockstrap so she couldn't see my cock when we swam together!" I'd known Seiji for ten years, a stocky, Japanese-American guy with a tremendous sense of humor, 5'11", 165 pounds, whose dad had a Civil Engineering business. We were two of the "Terrible Trio" of super swimmers – he was the funny one – along with Nnamdi, whom I'd also known for the same amount of time. Nnamdi was averyblack African with a shaved head, 6'2", 185 pounds, who'd been born in The Gambia, west Africa. His dad was a professor at the university and my mom called this black buddy of mine the most polite, cultured young man she'd ever met. Nnamdi was always smiling, and had a lilting accent that – even though he was making a declarative statement – always ended a sentence with a question mark. When he wasn't swimming, he wore small, gold, wire-framed spectacles that made him appear very studious…which he was. Among the three of us, though, I was recognized as the leader. Since I was Captain of the swim team, my buddies always did my bidding. At the State swimming championships, our multi-ethnic "Terrible Trio" had stricken fear in the hearts of all competitors.

"She's gone for the day, Seij," I said. "But you've both been invited for tomorrow, when she'll be here."

Nnamdi had already located a photo portrait of Aunt Ginny, and was moving his black fingers over the glass covering her beautiful, smiling face. "She is very sexy?" he said, making it sound like a question. He'd confessed to me once that he was fascinated with pretty, small blonde girls. I knew that he'd also had very little to do with black American girls…because, generally, he said, they were too loud and aggressive for his reserved, African taste.

"Oh, yeah, man, she's sexy all right," I confessed, and let it go at that.

For the rest of the day we exhausted ourselves in swimming drills, practicing turns, our respective strokes, even doing some bike and weight work. After a late afternoon pizza and beers, we said goodbye, and I descended into a deep depression, wondering what my mom and aunt were doing. I didn't feel like reading, or writing, or looking at Aunt Ginny's dirty DVDs, so I watched TV for a while.

I awoke with a start after dark with the TV blaring, and heard a car door slam from the driveway. My heart beat rapidly as I opened the front door and saw Mom trying to wrestle Aunt Ginny from the passenger seat. I ran to help and she said, "We had some drinks. Auntie Uma got drunk. She's too heavy for me. Will you carry her into her bedroom, please, Arjay?"

Of course I did as I was asked. Aunt Ginny was comparatively light and, though giggling and wiggling, when she saw it was I who was carrying her, she mewled and said, "Mmmm, my yummy, studly nephew. Missed ya, darlin'. Thought about ya all day. Gonna gimme some good lovin' tonight?"

I was embarrassed for Mom to hear her drunken spiel. "You made quite an impression on Auntie Uma yesterday, Arjay. She tried her best to come to grips with it today," said my formal, scholarly mother.

I wondered what that meant, since Ginny smelled rank. Her clothing was wrinkled, messy, and stained everywhere. The stench of perspiration, booze and other unidentifiable odors wafted off of her compact, muscular body. Her mouth also reeked of something strange. When Mom pulled off her blouse and unclasped her bra, I noticed a shiny trail of dried…cum! That's what it was! It snaked down from her neck, across her lovely tanned breasts, to her tummy. I removed her shoes and started to unfasten her skirt, when Mom said, "Perhaps I should undress her further, son. If you'd be so kind, please make some coffee. Though I'm sober, I'll need to be fresh for my workshop tomorrow."

And so it was. After we'd had coffee and Mom had retired to her own bed, I noticed the digital camera she'd pulled from her shoulder bag and set on the kitchen bar along with packages of things they'd bought while shopping. More than a little curious, I downloaded the digital contents of the camera onto my computer and plugged it into its battery charger.

The first two shots were okay, one each of Ginny and Mom at their lunch table. Then, at their club, there were two shots of people their age in a group, holding drinks and looking happy, with a naked couple in the background. Then the pictures got really raunchy. My stomach knotted when I saw my aunt on a bed, still dressed in her slit skirt and pretty blouse, with her legs pulled back – looking so sexy in those thigh high nylons – and admitting the large, excited cock of a handsome, dark-haired white man. He appeared to be about her age, maybe older, with his pants to his knees, sinking his shiny probe into the swollen pink lips of the pussy that I'd enjoyed so much just the day before. The smiling look of bliss on my aunt's face caused me to stop breathing, and a lump grew in my throat as – in later shots – I saw less clothing and many more imaginative physical positions. Finally, there were three impromptu snaps of the naked Ginny on her back, with someone's cock sunk into her ass – the person's face was off camera – with two other men masturbating to orgasm into her mouth and onto her face, neck and chest. I sobbed quietly to myself, crying for the first time in a decade as my guts turned to stone.

How could she? I asked myself. How could she so soon forget what we'd had just the day before? What was it that Mom had said?She'd come to grips with her feelings for me today? No, I swore in anger. This can't be how adults resolve things. And she's not alove goddess! She's aslut! Even worse, maybe awhore!Iwon't be fooled by her bullshit…nor will I allow my friends to be! I confess, though, that I studied very carefully each of the filthy pictures of my aunt engaged in her pleasures, which I reluctantly admitted to myself my mother had probably taken. Nevertheless, as I fell asleep late, I felt better knowing that tomorrow I'd see to it that Aunt Ginny –Auntie Uma– would pay the piper!

I awoke feeling very much like the piper, and angry. Mom nipped in briefly before leaving for her workshop and wished me a good day, asking that I respect Ginny's morning hangover. I didn't acknowledge her request. Instead, after she left, I got up, slipped on my Speedo trunks, and selected an ancient CD from our huge collection of recorded music to play loudly:The Bagpipes of Scotland. I grinned to myself as the first part of my revenge began to sound through the house, and turned the volume up to six…then eight. As the second half of the CD kicked in, Aunt Ginny walked very unsteadily out of her room, clad in a bathrobe, and went to the kitchen bar to pour herself a huge Bloody Mary. She turned, saw me, grinned wanly and waved as I mouthed, "Good morning!" She looked at me quizzically and mimed that she couldn't hear me. Of course she can't, I thought, perversely, the bagpipes are too loud.

Then she trumped my hand. Removing an ear plug from one ear, she shouted, "Arjay, if you wanta talk with me, turn down the music!"

I did so and she removed the plug from her other ear. Then she walked right up to me and positioned herself for a morning kiss. She still smelled like a distillery, and of sweat, and I noticed the dried pecker track still plastered to her upper breasts. A flash of her open mouth filling with the load of one of the men at the club yesterday revisited me and I almost puked. Stalking past her to the pool deck, I decided to swim off my anger and frustration 'til the guys arrived.

Two hours later, at about eleven, my buddies and I had finished our initial workout. "Arjay," said Seiji, "you promised we could see your aunt. I've waited for this day for over a year, man! Do we have to kick your ass?"

Before I could answer, both of my friends made an eerie sound in their throats as their jaws dropped. Aunt Ginny had emerged unsteadily from the house, onto the pool deck with a towel and another Bloody Mary, probably her third or fourth of the morning. Paying no attention to us in the pool, she positioned her chaise out of the direct sunlight and, through her apricot-colored sunglasses, began to examine the skin on her limbs. Those were what we three were initially looking at, but there was so much else to see.

She was wearing the briefest, aqua-colored bikini I'd ever seen, and a pair of five-inch, aqua, plastic high heels, making her about 5'9" tall. As she bent over to spread her towel on the chaise, the string down her butt crack made her pussy look like a camel toe, and her anus – barely covered between her magnificently tanned ass cheeks – offered its pink periphery to us in a most beguiling fashion. Nnamdi moaned, uncharacteristically, as my aunt smoothed out what I thought were imaginary wrinkles in her towel. Then she straightened up, showing her stellar posture, and flexed her back quickly, drawing attention to her two rigid spinal muscles and the soft, muscular protrusions on her upper back and shoulders that hours of weight work in a gym had given her. As if in a dream, we watched her turn slowly as the top to her bra – suspended only by spaghetti strings around her neck and her back – held two mini triangles that barely covered her aureoles. I slowly shook my head, convinced she was acting exactly as she looked – a whore – but my friends seemed to think otherwise. She adjusted her breast flesh – on which I'd supped so voraciously two days before – flesh that beckoned to us as loaves of Biblical bread yearning to be leavened by hand. Then she sat, showing us the soft, inner parts of her thighs to her crotch…but not for long.

The angry bile of cynicism rose in my throat as I saw it was time for the sunscreen ceremony. I'd seen this done by girls since the age of fourteen. It's a cruel rite that makes males imagine that they'vebecomethe hand of the female who is applying…rubbing…kneading, a collagen-saving ointment into the epidermis. It's obviously designed to stimulate the observing male's hormones. It's also designed so that – at the proper time – the female can give the tube containing the sun-blocking substance over to the dominant male as a symbolic act, which leads to foreplay with hands on skin, with the ultimate goal being sexual intercourse and impregnation. It's so calculated and phony, I thought.

That's what Aunt Ginny was doing now, which would have been okay had I been the only watcher. But I wasn't. My buddies were there, and didn't deserve her wanton advertisement. She wasmine. She was displaying herself lewdly, and symbolically sharing that slick sunscreen balm withall threeof us. She was making a fool of me by baring her body…showing its feminine treasures so blatantly…the body that I'd assumed had been dedicated to me two days before. The anger inherent in my Hindu, and – given a few shirttail relatives – Muslim gene pool boiled to the surface. With those goddamn clear heels she looked like a slut, I thought, and I became very agitated, then enraged, as I got out of the pool to sit on the edge. The three of us watched dumbly, our cocks rising, as her hands rubbed the oily stuff all the way up her thighs to the few square centimeters of triangular material that covered her cunt.

"Oh, maaan," expounded Seiji, as my aunt rose to her feet and walked toward the pool's ladder with her drink to shed her stratospheric heels. She'd put her hair atop her head to try to keep it dry, showing her fine, muscular neck and, turning her back to us again, descended the ladder into the water. The lungs of three horny young men expelled their contents as her body dropped below the surface to her chin and she slowly propelled herself to the center, which prompted my buddies to start showing off.

"Well, hi! I've forgotten your name," Ginny said, flirtatiously, as she treaded water, trying to keep her hair dry.

"I'm Seiji! We met a coupla years ago! I'm the clown in the group. Wanta play?" he asked. I knew what he had in mind, having seen his act with girls many times before.

"And I can't remember this beautiful jock," muttered Ginny, admiringly, facing Nnamdi, who was rhythmically side-stroking across the pool, his smooth, black body shining wetly in the sun.

"That's Nnamdi," said Seiji. "He's the real smart one. We call him 'Specs'!"

Ginny gave her patented giggle and dropped below the surface for a second – probably to check out the crotches of my buddies, I thought, darkly – then she shot out of the water to backstroke to the edge. She swam well, I noticed, her breasts and luscious thighs undulating above the surface.

Then the mandatory splashing began…a lengthy rite of getting acquainted and to test whether the other person – usually the girl – will give up quickly. Ginny held her own against my two much larger buddies.

"Hey, grumpy! You gonna just sit this one out?" she finally shouted at me. My only response was a disgusted shake of my head. And at that moment Seiji swam under her and brought her high into the air, with his head between her legs.

She screamed with delight as he yelled, "Capture the flag!" then she swam excitedly away from him to the deep end.

Capturing the flag was a game in which Seiji excelled, and involved stealing a girl's bikini top or bottom, to inflict public embarrassment on the female victim, creating laughter for all onlookers. I got the feeling that Ginny had played the game before, and pulled my legs out of the pool to sit in the shade as my two cohorts converged on my giggling aunt's tanned body while she tried to flee. Her splashing flight was in vain, of course, and soon Seiji emerged from the depths, holding her string bikini top triumphantly above his head, cackling like a person possessed.

"Seiji! You give that back right now!" said my aunt, sharply, as she stroked away toward the ladder. At the edge, she didn't see the black, sub-surface form of Nnamdi moving soundlessly – almost shark-like – under the water toward her legs until he hit her. "Oh! No! No! Nnamdi! Nnamdi! Stop it! Please! Stop it!" She thrashed at the water for a few seconds, but eventually groaned as the last of her spare costume – her bikini thong – was carried away, held aloft in my victorious African buddy's hand. "Shit!" she exclaimed to herself, as my two friends were under the water, now looking at my gorgeous aunt's naked body as she kicked underwater. When they surfaced, she shrilled, "I mean it! Bring me my suit! Fun's fun, but this is ridiculous! Please!"

That's when I got up and stalked furiously into the house, insanely jealous and hurting. I couldn't breathe and felt as if an elephant were sitting on my chest. Inside, I braced myself on a food-preparation table that serves as a kitchen island as my heart beat wildly. I couldn't bear to see my aunt flashing her private parts any longer. I was angry with her for succumbing so easily to a childish game, and I wanted some restitution. I wanted to punish her for displaying her charms like some hooker trying to attract johns. Memories of her obscene rutting with strangers returned to me from the previous day's pictures. I heard her call my name, twice, but I didn't answer. If she cares, she can come and find me, I thought, petulantly. And she did. When she walked in on her tottering high heels, her thong was on and she was trying to cover her nipples with her top. Her efforts weren't entirely successful as she was carrying her empty Bloody Mary glass, shades and sunscreen.

"Arjay? Honey?" she whispered when she saw my crestfallen look.

"You're such a slut!" I spat. Outside I heard my friends laughing and splashing about.

"Wha…?" she asked, incredulously. "Baby, I was just…just playing along with the boys!"

"You get up, drink like a fish, dress like some cheap whore – embarrass me in front of my friends – then show them your nakedness!" I fumed.

"But I thought you'd want me to be a good sport!" she said, sincerely, as she walked around the table and rubbed her thighs against me, with one hand touching my chest as lightly as a feather. Even with her soaking wet hair she was gorgeous, her makeup perfect. Yet her eyes were bloodshot from the night before, and she reeked of vodka from her morning cocktails.

I pushed her away roughly, and she retreated to the other side of the food prep table. "Yeah…a good sport! Like you were with that guy at your club yesterday. Was he the one who took your ass, too?" I asked, crudely. "And what about that guy cumming in your mouth…and those others beating off on your face?" I pressed, relentlessly.

"Ohh…honey, the one man was Jim, whom I've known for twenty years! He was your dad's top employee and I hadn't seen him in ages! We had a thing together years ago! It was just sex between old friends! It sounds weird but I wanted to see if my crazy feelings for you were real! Yeah, I got tipsy. Shouldn't have…you know… . Baby, I haven't made love withanybodyin years like you and I did on Thursday! Not since your daddy! Yesterday I got out of my mind on dope and booze! I don't remember the other guys…I was so stoned," she whined.

"That makes it easy, doesn't it!" I shouted. Finally, the jealous poison – all the hurt – was boiling out of me like hot lava. "The booze and drugs make it simple! Just a few fucks between old friends! Well, Aunt Ginny, you wanta be a good sport? Then I'm gonna have you entertainmyfriends!" I screamed like a demon.

"Oh, Arjay, my sweet, sweet love…no…," she sobbed suddenly. Her form seemed to shrink, quaking as she gasped to stifle tears.

"Oh, yeah!" I said, as my feeling of dominance replaced those of the self-pity in which I'd stewed for many hours.

"Darling…I'll do anything for you, but…please…don't make me…".

"Everything all right, man?" Seiji asked, as he stepped off the deck up into the house, followed by Nnamdi. "What's all the shouting about?"

I really wanted to humiliate her publicly, so I pressed on. "You guys don't know it, but Aunt Ginny here is calledUma, after a Hindu love goddess. What a surprise, huh? Look at that body! Go ahead, Nnamdi, touch her! She loves it! Can't live without sex!" Nnamdi was towering behind her and tentatively reached a curious black hand up to stroke her from her neck down over one shoulder, his long fingertips caressing the side of one of her bulging breasts.