I ditched the last two periods that day because I knew that with the pep rally going on, there would be plenty of opportunities to disappear without getting caught. I had no use for pep rallies; if they weren't going to teach me anything, then they had no business keeping me. I figured I had better things to do with my time, and as I slipped away, I had no idea how right I was.

Even before I reached the front door, I could hear music blaring within. My Aunt Jennie was staying with us for a couple of weeks, since she had just returned from France and was looking for a place of her own. She was probably partying now.

She was Mom's youngest sister, somewhere in her twenties, and she was the free-spirit of the family, always moving around (like to France or Costa Rica), and Mom and my other aunts were always angry at her or rolling their eyes about her. But she was the coolest in my family, and I always secretly rooted for her when everyone gossiped, because she would always sit down and talk to me, or take me to the movies, or take me out to eat when I was little. And even though my name is Jim, she always, always called me Buddy, like I was her buddy.

So it did not surprise or bug me when I stepped in with the tunes cranked from upstairs. Some old song--soul, I think. I bounded up the steps two at a time to see what was up.

The bathroom light was on. I giggled thinking about Mom getting pissed about someone changing the station on her bathroom radio again, and I prepared to surprise Aunt Jennie. Instead, I froze.

She stood facing the huge mirror, nude, eyes closed, singing into the hairbrush and shaking a bathrobe in her clenched fist. I knew I should have ducked into my bedroom before she saw me. But I just stood there staring, stupidly taking it all in.

As I gawked at her beautiful body, what struck me the most was her skin. So fair and smooth, unblemished by clothes, as my eyes traced her lovely shoulders and the sides of her breasts, down to the small of her shapely, feminine back, her smooth hips and ass cheeks blending into her slightly muscled thighs, her calves, her thin, stretched toes. I glanced to the mirror, surrendering like a good pervert, trying to get a frontal view of her--I had never seen a real woman naked--and as I did, her eyes opened and met mine in the mirror.

She pushed aside the wet strands of her hair and squealed a high- pitched "Ooh!" The door banged shut in my face.

Oh shit.

"I'm sorry," I called weakly through the door, though I doubt she heard me over the radio. Feeling like an ass, I slunk to my room, closed the door, and threw myself on my bed. The radio's blaring ceased, and I was left alone with my thoughts and my guilty conscience.

Guilty, yet I tried to think about what I had just seen, to remember the details of her beautiful body. It happened too fast. All I could do was wince and bury my head in my arms, like I do whenever I recall any extremely embarrassing situation. It was all the worse because I had always thought about how pretty Aunt Jennie was, and even fantasized about her, especially since she had been back from France.

And she was pretty--not foxy, like in some Playboy video, but really attractive, especially the more you knew her. She had long, straight blondish hair, which was shorter when she returned from abroad, and I didn't like that at first. But soon I thought she looked even better that way, because her eyes stood out more. She had big grey-blue eyes that were so expressive they could almost speak aloud. She could say anything with her eyes.

Aunt Jennie also had a great body. She was tall (I'd say about 5-9 or 5-10), thin and strong, a perfect cyclist's body which she got from riding a couple of hours each day. She also had a great rack, which I know is probably a disgusting way to talk about my aunt, but it was true. Her tits were large and full, and firm for their size. More and more often I would found myself staring at them: the round curves beneath her arms; the slight jiggle as she sat; or, on occasion, the definite hint of her nipples stiffening beneath shirt and bra. And more than once I know she caught me eyeing her before I looked quickly away.

I lay in bed trying to remember what those succulent breasts looked like just moments before, bare and only inches away, but my mind was clouded by the shame I felt.

There was a light rapping at the door, and my heart nearly stopped.

"Can I come in?" she called.

"Sure," I said so weakly that I had to swallow and repeat it louder. The door creaked open, and she sat beside me.

"I'm sorry," I said without looking up.

"Hey," she said tenderly, lifting my head by my chin, "you didn't do anything wrong. Don't be sorry." Not only was she not angry, for which I was relieved, but she was sitting next to me wearing her short robe. (I know. I couldn't help it, OK?) My eyes touched on hers, then looked down again, conveniently affording me a look at her long, bare legs, which led into the darkness only inches away beneath the robe.

"Okay?" her voice broke in. "It was only an accident. Don't be sorry. Besides," and she shifted her bent knees away from me, as if she were going to leave, "nudity is nothing to be ashamed of." She grabbed my chin again.

"Look at me," she ordered. "Haven't you ever seen a naked woman?" I shook my head, my eyes fixed on hers. "Not even your mother?" she asked, and snickered knowingly when I signaled No.

She turned away for several long moments, then stroked my cheek once and said, "Look."

Jennie abruptly stood up before me. She grinned coyly down at me, and then slowly parted her robe, revealing her chest between her breasts, then her tummy, and then... oh my god! She let it fall from her shoulders, and draped it behind her back from her elbows. The most beautiful woman in my world was standing in front of me, showing me her nude body. Her eyes asked, "Do you like?" My own were too shocked to answer back.

My gaze moved down, attempting the impossible task of taking it all in. Her breasts jutted firmly from her chest above me, each so large that both of my hands together would barely fit around them. They were capped by wide, pale nipples, ringed by tiny goosebumps. Her tummy looked improbably small and flat beneath her breasts, so that her bellybutton was only like a small, dark chasm that I so wanted to explore with my tongue. Beneath her navel, the slender tummy merged into that most mysterious of places, the slight feminine bulge, crowned by her brown pussyhairs, shaven short and narrow. I grew dizzy with excitement as I examined her sexy pussy, so obviously pampered and cared-for, to the hint of her pouty lips below, in that sweet area where her thin, muscular legs met her shapely hips and smooth torso. Oh God.