The country lane was becoming more and more familiar, as he approached his Aunt Jane's place. This trip to visit her was certainly not his idea; it was, in fact, his mother's idea. She'd said that Jane was in a major slump, after the death Uncle Henry, and wasn't apparently getting things done. She'd then said that she hoped that a visit from Jaime might settle her down and provide some extra help that she needed to get some things done around her house.
Jaime, recently arrived from Iraq, and newly out of the marines, spending his last two weeks with leave time, was reluctantly agreeable to the journey. It was a number of hours from where his mom lived but he made the trip. He didn't know what exactly to expect.
He did have some really good memories of Aunt Jane. She was a fairly big woman; that much he remembered. He had great adolescent fantasies, that he recalled, about her large tits. In those fantasies he was always ripping her clothes off or some equally rough variant of that kind of sexual scene. This made him smile, as he neared her lane.
She came out the door fairly quickly after he pulled up.
Jaime emerged from the Jeep with a grin on his face. Jane threw her arms out wide.
His immediate thought was that she was a sexy as ever, even in her baggy sweat shirt and sweat pants.
"My Jaime, the Marine, my Jaime the marine cop!" she crowed.
"Aunt Jane," he said with obvious pleasure. "I've come to ravish you!"
She colored and said: "Don't you fool with me that way, Jaime; I'm a widow woman and won't be fooled with."
He grinned and replied: "Yes, you will, if this marine decides to fool with you."
Aunt Jane colored again, and by now her arms were around her neck. It was all that Jaime could do to not let his hands drift down to the slopes of her lovely rounded ass cheeks. She felt real and very substantial. The thought crossed his mind immediately that maybe this wasn't so bad an idea.
Then Jane began to cry. He held her as she sobbed and simply mentioned Henry's name a few times. He couldn't clearly understand what she was saying. But he let her cry.
"I'm sorry, honey," she said, "I get weepy easily these days."
"Well, we're going to change that, Aunt Jane," he said with some authority.
"We are?" she said through her tears in a kind of little girl voice, "Maybe we need to; I just don't know. But let's go inside," she finished.
He walked behind her, almost leering at the swing of her ass beneath the fabric of her sweats. He left his grip and stuff in the car, and they sat at a table in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. They drank in silence for a few minutes, when she spoke up again:
"I can't seem to get a grip on myself," she began. "I don't understand it in a way because, you know, if the truth were told, Henry was no great shakes as a husband. He wasn't a nice man really."
She broke down again at the thought of Henry being gone, and Jaime patted her hand, letting her cry again.
"Do you mean that he hit you?" he asked incredulously.
"No, that might have been better," she said, "He just kind of ignored me; just ignored me."
"That I can't understand"; he said. "I'd never be able to ignore a woman as gorgeous as you."
"Oh, don't give me that blarney," she said with a kind of squeak in her voice, "That's just the marine in you talking."
"No, that's me talking," he assured her, staring her down, and causing her to avert her eyes.
"Aunt Jane, you are about the sexiest woman that I know!" he asserted further.
She blushed a deep red, and suggested that they get his things from the Jeep to cover her embarrassment. He got his stuff and got all settled. Then they went to the kitchen again, and he poured himself another cup of coffee.
"Do you mind terribly, Jaime, if I go and take a quick shower?" she asked. "I get myself in a state these days and don't get around to things. I'm sorry about being the way I am."
"You go ahead, Aunt Jane," he said, "I'll just finish my coffee."
She wasn't very long. When she came back, he noticed that she had on the same sweats as before. He decided then and there to begin to put an end to some of this wallowing.
"Do you mind looking over the house now?" she wanted to know. "I don't mean to rush you but there is a lot to do. Henry just didn't do much around. Hell, I'm not really sure what Henry did do."
"Besides ignoring you," he quipped.
She began to sob again, and he held her.
The first task that she chose was cleaning out an upstairs hall closet. She tole him to be careful that the pile of boxes and things in the upper part of the closet. She got a large stool and stood on it.
"Now you open the door carefully," she said to him, "And I'll hold stuff in place so that it doesn't fall; then, when it's okay, we'll see what's up here."
She opened the door and stretched kind of on her toes immediately and put both of her hands up to hold the boxes in place. She giggled then and said to Jaime, who was looking up at her:
"It's less stable than I thought; I guess you'll have to try to get up here with me and we'll grab it a little at a time."
It was then that Jaime's training asserted itself. He was a marine, he'd been taught to assess a situation and then act upon the assessment immediately. He was standing and looking up at his gorgeous aunt. She was strained to keep the boxes in place. At her waist, where her tee shirt had ridden up a bit was a band of naked skin and the thin line of the top of a pair of pink cotton panties. He came to a decision immediately. It was time to push this issue past all of her lapsing into self pity.
"Aunt Jane," he began, "If I don't do what I'm about to do, I will wonder about it, and regret it for the rest of my life."
She looked down on him and said: "What?" not really understanding what he had in mind.
He simply grabbed the string waist band of her sweats and untied it, allowing the large, too large, garment to flutter down her hips, past her ass cheeks, thighs, knees and to her feet.
Jane screamed! "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"
Jaime took charge immediately; he shouted back at her: "Don't let those damn boxes go or we'll have a mess. Do you understand?"
She was shocked and stood staring down at him and at the fact that she was standing on the stool in her panties with her tee shirt.
He said again, in a loud voice: "Do you understand?" and to emphasize his point, he slapped her ass. "Do you?" he wailed at her.
"Yes, uh, yes, yes," she stammered and kept her hands in place.
Then he made his next move. He pulled a large knife out of his pocket. She looked and stammered:
"Jaime, whaaaa, what are you going to do?"
"Get rid of these awful panties!" he said with determination.
"Awwwwp," was all that Aunt Jane could manage just then.
The knife made swift work of the panties, cutting the waist band, where there were tears and gaps, and snicking the fabric until it fluttered away from her, leaving her naked below the waist.
He put the knife away and left her staring, as he guided her feet out of the sweat pants. She watched as he threw the sweat pants away on a pile with her ruined panties.
"Junk," he said. Then looking up at her fiercely continued: "No more ugly underwear! Do you understand, Aunt Jane? Do you?" He raised his hand to emphasize his point with a slap to her ass but she hastened to add: The situation was totally in his hands; she recognized that, knew it, and didn't know what to do, expect what he was telling her to do. This was such new territory for her that she was at sea with it. The only thing that she managed was a fairly mumbled:
"Yes, uh, sir, I do."
He laughed: "Gee, that sounds nice; very military, 'yes, sir' I like that."
"Yes, sir," she stammered again. Then added in wonder: "What are you going to do now?"
"Something that Henry should have done regularly," he said, as he moved into place in front of her and lowered his head to her pubic triangle.
With his first kiss and the first lick of his tongue, she erupted:
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" she shouted into the boxes, "Henry never ... eeeeeeeeeee ... did that!"
"Henry's an asshole; he should have, with a wife that is one of the most gorgeous, most sexy anywhere around..." then he stuck his tongue farther into her pussy fold.
He held her by the hips as his tongue assaulted her pussy. She kept up a constant stream of loud sighs, and moans into the boxes on the shelf.
"Sorry!" she said, "I'll try to be quiet." It all came out in a strained voice.
"Hell no!" he roared, "That's a woman's music; you make that noise and I'll eat this pussy a happy man."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she added and then in a voice strained but containing wonder: "You don't mind? Henry thought it was sick to make noises that way."
"You make those noises and I'll eat you in public someplace to let people hear what a woman is supposed to sound like," he added, being even more vigorous.
Then he had a thought, which creased his face with amusement. He moved behind her. She let out a disappointed "Ohhhh," which was answered by his assertion:
"Oh, I'm not finished yet, Aunt Jane."
"Oh good!" was all that came from her and then a squeal, as he grabbed her ass cheeks and forced them apart. He inserted his face into the crack of her ass and kissed her rosebud asshole.
Her shriek this time was cosmic.
"Love that sound," he said gleefully, pushing his tongue further into her asshole, and forcing the cheeks apart to make it easier.
.... There is more of this story ...