"Oh my God, my head hurts." I tried to open my eyes but they wouldn't cooperate. "Where am I?"

"You're in my bed, big boy."

"Who are you, and how did I get here?" I finally got my eyes open to see an attractive woman, perhaps 40 dressed in a white blouse and white shorts standing a few feet away from the bed. She was slim, trim and looked fresh as a Daisy.

"I'm Harriet but everybody calls me Harry. I'm Paul's aunt, and I brought you here. You were to drunk to drive, so they asked me to take you home. You passed out in my car and I didn't know where you lived so I brought you here."

"I'm Ed, Shirley's grandfather. Now I remember, the wedding, Shirley and Paul got married. Oh God, I think I had a lot to drink at the reception. I think my hair is asleep. I've got to go to the toilet. What happened to my clothes?"

"I know who you are, and I took your clothes off before I put you to bed. Use this robe. While you're in there, you might as well take a bath and brush your teeth. You stink like whiskey and your breath is worse. I've put a towel and a spare toothbrush on the counter by the basin."

"Ah... did we...er... do anything?" I was beginning to feel human and was disappointed that I may have missed something important.

"Not on your life! It was all I could do to get you in the house. I slept on the couch. Would you like something to eat after you bathe?"

"I sure would, but something easy, my stomach is a little queasy."

She left the bedroom and I made my way to the bathroom on very unsteady legs. After brushing my teeth and ten minutes or so of the warm soothing water washing over my body I felt like I might live, or at least, now, I hoped I would, but I still had a pounding headache in my right eye. My tongue felt very thick. The only thing I could think of that might help me would be three aspirins and a pot of hot, black coffee taken intravenously. I noticed that the robe she gave me was a mans, and almost big enough for my six-foot two-inch frame. I came out of the bath wearing the robe, only to discover that all my shirt, underclothes and socks were missing.

I was standing there, reeling, in a stupor, trying to understand what was going on when she stuck her head in the door. "Come on sleepy head, breakfast is ready."

I don't think I said anything until I had the first cup of coffee. Then, she brought me some aspirins and I tried to eat the Western omelet she had prepared. I found out that she was a widow, 49 years old, and Paul's [the groom] mother's older sister. The robe I was wearing belonged to her husband who had passed away three years ago. My missing clothes were in the wash and would be ready in 30 to 40 minutes.

By the time I had finished the second cup of coffee, the aspirin were beginning to work, the swelling in my tongue had subsided, my stomach had quit revolting and had decided to accept the omelet.

I told her about me. I had taken early retirement [a buyout by my business partner] at 57 when my wife took sick and I nursed her for two years before she died last year. Since then I had done nothing socially until my granddaughters wedding yesterday.

Over my third cup of coffee we really got acquainted before she left the room to put the clothes in the dryer. I sat there, reminiscing about the last few minutes, the wedding yesterday and what had happened in my life the last few years. When I thought about how much I missed my wife and how much she would have liked to see her eldest granddaughter married, tears came to my eyes.

I was sitting there, elbows on the table, head in my hands, sobbing quietly when she came back in. She came up behind me and put her arms around my shoulders. "It will be OKAY, I know how you feel, it took me a long time to get over it too."

The soft gentle touch of her hands and delicate aroma of her perfume only made it worse. I turned around, put my arms around her waist and wept openly. We just stayed like that for quite a few minutes until I began to realize that my head was pressed hard against her breasts. I released her and mumbled an apology.

She gave me a strange, cocked head look, and said, with a marked increase in her breathing, "I understand, and I didn't mind, in fact I kind of liked it."

I could never rationalize what I did next, I got up, took her in my arms and kissed her, long and deep. I should have been surprised when her lips parted, inviting my tongue but I was so wrapped up in the moment that it felt natural as my tongue probed her mouth.

I wasn't even aware of my erection until her hand went down, found the open front of the robe, and took hold of it. "It doesn't look like you're sad any more," she giggled.

It had been over two years since another human being had touched my cock, and I told her so. "Oh look at that, I'm honored. Are you sure it still works?"

"Keep rubbing it like that and you'll find out in just a moment."

"Well, come on. It's been well over three years for me. Let's don't let it go to waste."

Using my penis as a handle she pulled me back into the bedroom. I was surprised to see that she had remade the bed while I was having breakfast. The linens, and in fact the whole room, smelled, like her, fresh and clean.