Chapter 3

The second major event occurred the first Monday in August. My real mom’s uncle, Ernie, passed away. I’d never met the mysterious Uncle Ernie. He was the wanderer sheep of her family. He had been a Flying Tiger Pilot during the war. He stayed in the far east after the war and had lived out the rest of his life in Hong Kong. His lawyer had sent a letter and a box of personal effects addressed to me. What with all the grief of my father’s passing, my stepmother must have stuck the unopened box in the closet and forgot about it.

I came upon it while I was putting the vacuum cleaner away. I spotted my name on the package and grabbed a knife and opened it. Inside I found a photo album, an envelope filled with old musty documents, a worn leather wallet and a small envelope that with my name on it and “Every life has a chapter that they don’t want to read out loud” printed in shaky handwriting on it. Inside was a silver ring.

Huh.

I needed to get over to my aunt’s house. Today was window washing day and if I didn’t get started early before the midday heat, they would streak like heck, and I’d have to do them over. I shoved the papers back into the shipping envelope and absently slipped the ring on my right-hand ring finger. Made my finger tingle.

Odd.

When I tried to pull it off, it wouldn’t budge. It was getting late, so I just shoved the box back into the closet along with the vacuum cleaner.

When I got to her house, Aunt Jean was wearing a long green robe and was washing her breakfast dishes. The radio was playing “Love me tender...”.

“Steven, you’re early,” she stopped suddenly and gave me a dazed look, “have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

She came back minus the robe wearing a gossamer thin nylon summer nightgown. I could see her brown nippled titties clear as day. They swayed and jiggled as she moved.

Boy, oh boy.

My finger began to tingle. Other parts of me stiffened.

“How you are doing this morning, Aunt Jean?” I glanced again at her out-thrust tits once again, then away. I had to be careful. She had caught me several times over the last few weeks but never mentioned it. Denial was well and good in the Anderson house as well.

My ring finger was really tingling.

“Oh, good morning, Steven. I’m so hot. I’m already sweating, and the day is barely beginning. I like not wearing a brassiere in the summer; my breasts feel so free. I wish I could go without at work, but my nipples are sensitive this time of the month. They will erect and everyone will stare like you do, you naughty boy.” She was cupping her tits for me to see. “See how obvious they are. Real sensitive too. I can orgasm just by having them pinched.

What the hell?

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ll be better.” Jesus, I felt my face pale with dread. I couldn’t believe I got caught being a pervert. No matter what I said, I had plain and simple knowledge that I was so dead. I braced myself for the consequences.

She laughed.

What?

“You are a naughty boy, for sure. Can I make a confession? Do you swear not to tell anyone?”

I nodded dumbly

“I like it when you look at my tits. It gives me naughty tingles down there.” She pointed at the dark triangular mass of pussy hair I could see through the nightgown. “Just now when I saw you come in, I put on thin nightgown and pinched my nipples hard to make them show, like this.” She reached her right hand up and pinched her left nipple. She giggled. “Your wicked, lustful looks give my pussy such a naughty tingle. I like making your cock hard. It’s been so long since anyone wanted me. And the fact that’s it’s practically incest is ... breathtaking.”

Okay then.

This was so odd that I could not process it. I hadn’t thought that Aunt Jean was a crazy person, but jeez, I guess so.