Ethan Nelson Pt. 03

"What you need is that mythical young stud that was supposedly fucking Mrs Kowalski," Auntie Trish suddenly declared. "That would lift you out of your funk."

"Trish!" Mom exclaimed, "it isn't all just about good sex with young men with big cocks who know how to use them you know, there is more to life than that."

"WOW, and where did that come from," Auntie Trish exclaimed, "if I didn't know you better I'd have said you were speaking from experience there Cindy. Got something you want to share? Something you want to get off your chest?"

"No not at all. It's you and the way you go on about it. You seem to have a one track mind these days Tricia. I think it's you we need to focus on getting laid, not me."

Good save mom I thought but my heart swelled with pride. I knew mom had liked me fucking her.

"Anyway, what do you know about Mrs Kowalski?" Mom asked hurriedly, trying to move the conversation away from her.

"Well, I happened to bump into her daughter Connie the other day," Trish said excitedly, "and she said that not only had her mom been fucking Danny; that's Connie's husband by the way; but there were several others she's confessed to."

"And the young stud?"

"Well, Connie's not sure but she said when she finally confronted her mom ... they've not been talking for a while ... her mom let slip that there may have been a really well endowed younger man that fucked her a few times but if there was, there's no proof because no-one's ever seen him and Mrs Kowalski's lips are now sealed."

I confess my heart was beating twenty to the dozen as Trish was speaking. The last thing I needed was for Mrs Kowalski to confess to her husband that I was that young man.

I risked a peek inside the room just in time to see Auntie Trish grin broadly. "So Cindy ... did you ever see what size Ricky's cock is? I still think it could be him you know. People say that Mrs Kowalski did shop at the 'U' nearly every other day."

"Oh not again Tricia. That's my son you're talking about. And no ... I did not go and check out the size of his cock as you so crudely put it. I'm his mother for christ's sake, why would I want to do that?"

"Ha ha ha ..." Trish started laughing, "you should see the look on your face Cindy ... and why are you going bright red ... OH MY GOD ... you have seen it haven't you?"

I looked at mom. It was true, her face was certainly flushed and her eyes were wide. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I ... I ... may have ... accidentally ... noticed that ..."

"And?" Trish interrupted loudly, "... size ... what size is Ricky?"

Mom swallowed hard before she answered. "Erm ... big ... it looked big. I didn't get a good look at it but it looked fairly ... erm ... large."

She deserved an Oscar for her performance. She'd had it in her hands, down her throat and in her tight little pussy and all she could say was ... "it looked fairly large." Brilliant mom!

"Wow," Trish said, "so Mrs Kowalski's young stud could be Ricky then. Double wow!"

"You don't know that Trish. Please don't say a word about this to anyone. Even if you are right, exposing Ricky would destroy him and that's not including what Mr Kowalski might do to him. And what if you were wrong? How would he react to that? He's only eighteen, he's still a kid. It could ruin him for life."

"Okay, okay, I promise," Trish replied. "You're right of course ... about everything ... as usual."

"Can we change the subject then," Mom said.

"Sure," Trish replied, "what's on your mind?"

I'd heard enough and crept away back upstairs to my bedroom. Once there I got out the pictures of mom and whacked myself off.

* * * * * *

It was about a week later. I was still climbing the walls with pent up sexual desire. Mom had kept to her word and was keeping me at arms length both metaphorically and physically. I'd found where she was hiding her panties and had gone back to cumming in them during my frequent masturbation sessions. But I always put them in the laundry basket afterwards. She must have realized what I was doing but so far she'd said nothing to me about it.

It was Friday night and I'd just got home from work. I still had loads of overtime to claw back so earlier in the week the store had told me that I could have the whole weekend off, which was quite unusual especially as Saturday is our busiest day.

Mom was waiting for me in the kitchen as soon as I entered through the back door. She was all business from the off.

"Good, you're home. Your dad and I are away now for the weekend. We'll be back late Sunday, around six probably. There's enough food in the fridge and freezer to last a week so you won't starve over the next two days. Any questions?"

"Erm ... no," I replied.

"Good. I know you're off this weekend so I've volunteered you to give Auntie Trish a hand to move some stuff at her house. Can you do that for me?"

"Erm ... sure," I replied.

"Good. I told her you'd be there tomorrow morning no later than nine. Okay?"

"Erm ... sure," I replied.

"Good talk son."

"Erm ... sure was," I replied.

* * * * *

The following morning I arrived at Auntie Trish's house at precisely nine o'clock. She flung open the door before I could even knock.

"Morning Ricky," she beamed, "so glad you could come over."

"Sure thing Auntie Trish, happy to help," I replied, "what do you want me to do?"

"Right, come with me and I'll show you," Trish said as she grabbed my hand and led me into the house. We went straight upstairs and into her bedroom. What a mess. There were clothes and boxes and shoes and mess strewn everywhere.

"Having a clear out?" I asked with a faint smile.

"Yes," she asserted firmly, "this pile here ..." she waved her hand in the general direction of a big mound of clothing and shoes, "... these all belong to 'the asshole'. What I need you to do is box it all up for me whilst I go through all the remaining cupboards and drawers."

"Okay, no problem," I replied as I knelt down and got to work.

Twenty minutes later I'd finished. All the clothes were stored in a couple of boxes, all his shoes were matched up and together in another and I even had a separate box for his miscellaneous belongings.

"Finished," I said. "What's next?"

"This pile here," Trish replied, pointing to another mound of stuff she'd pulled out of her wardrobes, "it wants boxing up to go to the local thrift store."

"Okay," I replied.

We carried on like that for about an hour before Trish went off and made us both a coffee. We sat on her bed and chatted about nothing in particular but I did get the impression that occasionally Trish was checking me out in the crotch area.

I'd never spoken to Auntie Trish like this before. When she got together with 'the asshole' she was twenty four and I was only a twelve year old snot nosed kid. And on the odd occasion when she came to visit I was the insignificant nephew who she by and large ignored as she talked to mom and dad. But here we were now, conversing together as adults.

A couple of hours later and we stopped for lunch. Most of the wardrobes and cupboards and drawers were now empty. We'd had a very productive morning.

As we ate lunch Trish told me that she had now decided to rip out all the wardrobes and drawers from her bedroom and start again. 'The asshole' had insisted on redesigning the bedroom when he'd moved in with her but now she wanted it putting back to how it was. She hoped I didn't mind but would I do it for her?

Of course I didn't mind. I went and had a look for some tools in the garage. Surprisingly there was little in there that would help. For one thing she had no hammer or screwdrivers. I went back inside and told her what I would need.

"Okay, I'll go get what you need, so while I'm gone you can take it easy. I'll be back as soon as I can." And with that she grabbed her car keys and was gone.

I went back upstairs and began to clear the boxes out of the bedroom. Once I got rid of them I began to take out the drawers. If only I'd had a screwdriver I could have started to take the wardrobe doors off their hinges too.

No matter. I stacked the drawers one on top of the other but as I turned to get the last one, the stack tippled over.

"Shit," I said as I turned around to survey the mess. It was my own fault I should have stacked them better. And then I saw it. It must have been stuck to the bottom of one of the drawers and Auntie Trish had missed it as she cleaned them out. I had noticed she'd struggled to open a couple of the drawers, they were pretty crammed full so maybe that's how it had got lodged up in there. I bent down and picked it up and my eyes widened.

It was a full length photo of Auntie Trish presumably taken by 'the asshole' that showed her in a whole new light. Her light brown almost blonde hair hung down way past her shoulders, her eyes smoldered and her red lips were parted in a nice smile. But it was what she was - or wasn't wearing that made my cock spring to life.

Her only clothing was a short, black lace nightie that barely came to her ass although that didn't matter much as it was completely see through anyway. Her breasts were in plain view through the fabric and even in the photo I could see that her nipples were very erect. I could also see what looked like a tiny G-string. My gaze dropped lower and onto her long, shapely, slender legs. God they looked good.

Her sexy outfit was completed by what looked like 5" high almost porn star like glass heeled shoes. These though were much classier than that with black platform soles and straps. Overall the outfit was fantastic. My Auntie Trish was hot ... hot ...HOT!

My cock was throbbing fit to bust so I pulled it out of my shorts and began to slide my hand up and down the shaft, jerking myself off. This wasn't going to take long, which was probably a good thing as I didn't know how long Trish would be gone. The DIY store wasn't far away.

As I staggered off to the bathroom I caught sight of a stack of shoe boxes. My stomach muscles clenched as I thought that in one of those boxes could be the very shoes Auntie Trish had been wearing when 'the asshole' had fucked her. How perverted was that!

I flipped open the top lid of the first shoe box. No. I grabbed the second and flipped off the lid. No. The third. No. The fourth and then the fifth. No. No. I was getting desperate. I was so close to cumming. Shit. The sixth. No. The seventh ...

And there they were. I grabbed at one, picked it up and sniffed. Why did I do that? As far as I knew I had no foot fetish. Or did I now? Whatever. I dashed into the bathroom, placed the picture of Auntie Trish on top of the toilet and fondling the heel of her shoe began whacking myself off harder.

My hand flew up and down the shaft as I came close to cumming. I was grunting and gasping for breath. I was so close ... so close ... I was almost there ... cumming ... cumming ...

"OHMYGOD!"

The shriek from the doorway made me jump. I turned sharply to the noise just as I came hard. My white spunk flew through the air splattering against the door and onto the tee shirt and shorts that Auntie Trish was wearing.

"Ohmygod ... ohmygod ... ohmygod ..." I rattled out, almost crying from the shame of being caught masturbating, the depravity only made worse by jerking off to a picture of my almost naked auntie whilst caressing the 5" glass heel of her shoe.

"I'm so sorry ... I'm so sorry," I babbled as I tried to stuff my cum coated cock back inside my shorts. I glanced up to see a look of horror etched on the face of my auntie.

"Ohmygod ... Auntie Trish ... I'm so sorry ..." I continue to babble. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't leave. Auntie Trish was blocking the doorway, seemingly frozen to the spot, her mouth gaping wide open, her eyes wide and staring at my fully erect cock, which I'd still not managed to put back into my shorts. It didn't seem to want to go down or be put away.

Auntie Trish gulped and that seemed to slowly bring her to her senses. "God Ricky ..." she muttered as she finally turned and walked away trance-like before sitting down on the edge of her bed. I finally managed to subdue the beast and slowly followed her into the bedroom. I stood near to the bed not knowing what to do or what to say.

"I should go," I finally said after a few painful minutes of silence.

"No ... no ... it's okay," Auntie Trish replied hesitantly, "I just need a minute or two that's all." She slowly raised her head to look at me and then looked down at her cum splattered clothes. "Jeez ... you certainly came a lot. I'm covered in your spunk. And so is the door," she added with a nervous little giggle as she turned slightly to look over towards the bathroom.

And that did it. The tension was broken, the relief for both of us was clearly evident. "Well ..." I said, pulling a face and leaving it at that.

Nothing more was said. We finally got back to work. Trish got cleaned up and then cleared away the rest of the stuff whilst I made short work of destroying the wardrobes. We should have been able to sell the bedroom furniture but 'the asshole' had made such a poor job of installing them that I couldn't get it out intact. He'd used screws where he should have used nails and nails where he should have used screws. The nails he'd used were too big and he'd clearly used a nail gun with too much air pressure because it had splintered most of the soft timber when he'd fired the nails in.

I was tired, hot and sweaty when I'd finished. Trish had disappeared some time ago leaving me a towel so I could shower when I'd finished. My tee shirt was filthy so when I went downstairs after my shower I was only wearing my shorts.

When I walked into the kitchen I noticed Auntie Trish scope out my body. I don't know why. I've got an average build for an eighteen year old, being 5'10" tall and around 170 pounds in weight. I don't play a lot of sport, never have being average in most, so I'm not ripped or anything. But I suppose I'm not in too bad a shape.

She tossed me a bag. "Here I got you this."

I opened the bag. Inside was a white tee shirt. I pulled it out. Emblazoned across the front was a massive 3D picture of a hammer. It was bad in it's own right but what made it worse was the slogan; 'Hammer Time' underneath. All the letters were formed by joining little hammers together. Jeez and I thought the 'U' had cornered the market in cheesy slogans.

"Thanks Auntie Trish ... I guess."

"You're welcome," she giggled, "it was free with the hammer."

"I'm not surprised," I quipped back with a laugh.

She handed me a beer. I was thirsty so I knocked it straight back. She handed me another. I noticed she had an open bottle of red wine on the kitchen top and the glass next to it was nearly empty. She topped it up and then raising up the glass in a toast clinked it against my bottle.

"Thanks for your help today Ricky. I can't tell you what a relief it is to get that hideous bedroom furniture out. I can now put my room back to how I want it."

"No problem, happy to help," I replied. I knocked back my second beer and put the empty bottle down. "I should go."

"No, don't rush off. I've ordered pizza. It's the least I could do after all your hard work. She opened the fridge and came out with another beer, which she opened and thrust into my hand.

"Take a seat," she said as she sat down at the kitchen table. I took a seat across from her.

"About earlier ..."

Oh-oh I thought, here it comes.

"... that picture you saw ..."

"You don't have to explain Auntie Trish, it's me that should be apologizing to you. I had no right to do what I did. The only explanation I have for my actions is my hormones. I'm a teenager, they're all over the place." I was using that knowledge gleaned off the internet again. It was becoming very useful in explaining away my perverted behavior.

"So ... it turned you on?"

"YEAH ... oh sorry ..."

"Even though I'm your auntie?"

"Auntie Trish, I barely know you. You never came around much when I was growing up and when you did you used to ignore me. Don't get me wrong, it's not a problem but to me now that I'm older, you're an attractive older woman with a fantastic body. Seeing you near naked in that photo was just too much for me to take. I had to relieve the pressure. And that's what I did. I'm just sorry you caught me."

Auntie Trish looked at me long and hard before the loud ring of the doorbell made us both jump.

"Pizza's here," she said as she jumped up out of her seat, grabbed her purse and almost ran across the kitchen to throw open the door. She certainly gave the pizza delivery guy a shock.

We ate pretty much in silence. I was starving but Auntie Trish seemed to pick at hers as if distracted. It left more for me though, which was good.

After we'd finished I sorted out the dishes for her whilst she went into the living room and switched on the TV.

I wandered into the room. "I should go now," I said, "thanks for the pizza and beer."

Trish looked up at me. "Why don't you stay Ricky. I need you again tomorrow so it makes sense for you to be here, don't you think?"

"I guess ... but I've got no clean clothes, so maybe I should go."

"No problem, I'll go and get you some in the morning whilst you're working. Yeah?"

"Okay, I suppose." I took a seat on the end of the three cushioned sofa. Trish was sitting at the other end. She clicked the remote and a film started. I groaned inwardly thinking it would be a chick flick but was surprised when the latest Fast and Furious film started. I think it was number fourteen although I couldn't be sure. There's been so many you lose track after a while!

"I love these films," Auntie Trish said, "isn't Vin Diesel yummy."

"Erm ... NO," I responded with a grimace, even though I knew it was a statement not a question. "I like the films although I actually prefer Jason Statham's car movies. Much cooler."

"Yeah, he's hot," Trish replied with a grin. I shook my head in dismay. That's not what I meant and she knew it wasn't. She poured herself another glass of wine. I figured the way she was going she'd soon have finished the bottle. "Feel free to help yourself to beer," she said, "there's plenty in the fridge." Shortly after I did go and help myself.

We watched the film and then another one came on straight after. This was about marital problems and breakups. All emotional stuff I didn't want to know about. Auntie Trish's mood seemed to sink lower and lower the more she watched the disintegration of the couple's relationship. When the male lead announced to his wife that he was leaving her for his younger lover it all became too much for her. What had been sniffles into a tissue became heartrending sobs.

It was uncomfortable as I didn't know what to do. Should I move over and comfort her? Give her a hug and tell her everything would be okay, like the jilted wife's mother was doing in the film? It was too much for my young mind to take in. In the end I moved over to sit next to her. And then Auntie Trish spoke.

"I miss him Ricky. I never thought I'd say that but I do. I thought he was the one, the one I was going to be with for the rest of my life. Clearly he didn't share my feelings, otherwise he wouldn't have gone off with his blonde haired, big breasted, twenty year old assistant. He always did like big boobs. Obviously I wasn't pretty enough, young enough, blonde enough or stacked enough for him," she added bitterly.

I looked over at Auntie Trish. She was staring into space, lost in her past, mourning the end of her relationship. I felt so sorry for her. She was a nice person, she didn't deserve this much sorrow.

"He was a fool," I said, "and you ARE pretty and you have a fabulous body and ..."

I stopped myself talking and gulped as I realized that without thinking I'd made an unintentional almost abstract reference to that near naked, erotic photograph of my Auntie. I felt my face begin to burn. I must have been positively glowing bright red if the heat I felt was anything to go by.