I can tell you the exact moment my life changed for the better. It was when the shower door opened.

My mom had died a few months earlier. I was 17, so I wasn't a kid anymore, but I wasn't so old that I could take it in stride. Or maybe you're never old enough to take things like that in stride; I don't know.

Anyway, I still felt pretty torn up about it, but I tried not to show it too much, because I figured it was harder on the kids -- my brothers, Willie and Mark, four years younger. And with Dad away most of the time flying, I figured I had to be the man of the family.

I don't know how we would have gotten through that time if it hadn't been for everything Aunt Sandy did for us.

She's Dad's sister. She'd gotten a divorce, so she was free and she came to live with us after Mom died, and to look after us. We sure needed it.

Aunt Sandy was something: a short, blond ball of fire. With her hair cut so short she looked like a Q-tip, except that no Q- tip was ever that curvy. Nothing extravagant; she's no Dolly Parton or anything, but you could definitely tell she was a woman.

It was weird having a good-looking woman around the house. Mom was pretty, I guess, but, well, she was our Mom, you know?

Aunt Sandy was family, too, but in a way she wasn't. We hadn't seen much of her before.

She tried her best to fit in, though, always looking after us and trying to help us deal with Mom being gone. Like that day.

I had this thing at school -- an honors assembly. I tried to act like it was no big deal, but Mom had always been on us to do our school work and study hard. I knew this would have meant a lot to her. So I was getting these honors -- and she couldn't be there. I knew my Dad would be out of town, so I didn't even mention it to him. He'd been feeling guilty about being away so much, and he didn't need that kind of worry on top of losing Mom.

The awards came at the end of the school day, in last period. The gym was full of students and parents. Every time someone walked up to the stage, you could figure out where their parents were sitting by watching for the pop of a camera flash. Every so often some kid would reach out his hand for a plaque and his mom or dad would yell out something that would echo and the kid would look up. Their expressions were always the same -- trying to look embarrassed, but actually pretty happy. I knew the feeling; my Mom could make me feel that way every time she'd shout out my name at a Little League game or point me out in a school play.

I guess I was feeling pretty down by the time my turn came. Maybe I was even crying a little, I don't know. When they called my name I walked toward the stage in kind of a daze; the faces of the kids around me were just a blur.

Then I got up to the podium and the principal was reaching out his hand and there was a flash off to the right. I had just a second to wonder whose Dad had mistaken me for his son when there was this shout that bounced off the rafters: "Yeah Day-Vid!"

It was Aunt Sandy, of course. She wasn't hard to spot, leaping into the air in the third row of the bleachers, waving her arms like a cheerleader.

It wouldn't have been cool to smile too much, but I couldn't help flashing a grin. She must have heard something from Willie or Mark about the assembly, but she'd never said a word to me, just showed up. Parents were supposed to have tickets, and I'd never picked mine up, so I don't know how she talked her way in. Being Aunt Sandy, I figure she just flashed those big eyes at them and started talking fast and walking past them all at once.

The assembly finished just a little bit after that. I was walking out the gym door when Aunt Sandy caught up with me and offered to drive me home.

We talked about a lot of stuff in the car, about my missing Mom and how proud she would have been to see me up on the stage. I'm not much at telling people how I feel, but I felt so close to Aunt Sandy then that I just let it all out. I don't think I actually ever thanked her for coming that day, but I'm sure she got the idea. Anyway, by the time we got home I was bawling like a baby, but I didn't feel bad; I was just working out all my feelings about my Mom. For the first time, I allowed myself to admit how sad I was and how much I really missed her.

And Aunt Sandy didn't say much; she didn't have to. Mostly she just murmured every once in a while, or offered me a tissue.

Mark and Willie were staying over at a friend's house that night, so we got back to an empty house. Aunt Sandy said it hardly seemed worth cooking up a whole meal just for the two of us and wondered if I'd think she was too lazy if she just ordered out for pizza. I said it was fine.

Later that evening, over slices of pepperoni and sausage, I told Aunt Sandy that I really appreciated her helping us out. She made a joke out of it, saying that it didn't take much effort to dial a phone for pizza, but I could see she really appreciated my saying it. It seems crazy now, but I think that was the first time any of us actually told her how much she meant to us. I guess we were all so busy dealing with our emotions that we never stopped to think that Aunt Sandy might be feeling down, too, with her divorce, and then coming into a new house and dealing with somebody else's kids and all.

Well, we finished dinner and watched TV for a little while, and then I went up to shower and go to bed. I'd played some basketball by myself in the driveway before dinner and I felt kinda cruddy.

So I turned on the water full blast and stepped into the shower, sliding the frosted glass door behind me. I just stood under the water a couple of minutes, letting the hot jets bite into my skin. I still missed my Mom, of course, but after my talk with Aunt Sandy I felt like I was finally coming alive again, getting back to a normal life. It seemed as if the streams of water dripping off me were taking away a big weight that had been riding me for months.

I started lathering up when I thought I heard something in the bathroom. The glass had steamed up, though, so I couldn't even see any shadowy forms through it. I rubbed the soap into the hand towel a little more and started scrubbing my chest.

That's when the shower door opened.

"I thought you could use some help," Aunt Sandy said, stepping in.

She was naked. Well, I guess you figured that out.

Although I'd already noticed that Aunt Sandy looked young for her age and had a nice body, I'd never known how nice it was until that moment. She was short, just about coming up to my chin, but her legs seemed to go on forever. Her breasts were more than a handful -- not huge, but what was incredible was how firm they were, no sag at all. Her nipples were already erect, pointing at me like pencil erasers from the light brown circles around them. And her bush -- a curly little arrowhead pointing right down to...

Of course, I got an instant hard-on. Imagine how you would feel if some sexy lady suddenly stepped into the shower with you?

But what if that lady were your aunt? That's what I was thinking. I backed up into the corner of the stall. "Aunt Sandy," I stammered out. "Wh-what are you doing? In here? With me?"

She didn't move toward me right away, just stood there in the far corner. The spray from the shower hit her about at the waist and I couldn't help following the trickles down with my eyes, seeing them drip onto her bush, matting down the hair, pouring down those long, shapely legs. It was like a Playboy centerfold come to life!

"David," she said, and I forced my eyes back up to her cute face. "I've been living with you several months now, and I think it's time you understood some things. I know you and the boys miss your Mom, and you want someone to do the things she used to do for you -- cooking, cleaning, all of that. And I'm happy to help, really I am.

"But I'm not your Mom. I'd never try to be, even if I could. So things -- relationships -- are different.

"I need you to understand that I'm a woman. I have my own needs. Do you know what I mean?"

The look on her face made my fears melt away. I knew what she meant -- how could I have been so stupid? Aunt Sandy had been divorced for awhile, and now she was cooped up in a house with a bunch of kids. Of course she had needs.

But -- me? I hadn't even gotten to first base with any of the girls my own age, and now this older woman was offering everything. I didn't know what to do -- I mean, I knew what I wanted to do, but should I? And if I did, what if I did something wrong?

I don't know if Aunt Sandy saw the emotions on my face or if she just sensed them, but she did exactly the right thing, taking it very slow. As she'd been talking to me, she had taken a couple of steps toward me. The spray from the shower was hitting just below her neck now, streams of water flowing down her breasts and trickling off the nipples. I was so entranced by the vision I didn't see what happened next until I felt the washcloth being pulled out of my hand. Aunt Sandy took the soap, too.

Slowly, like it was a dream, she rubbed more soap on the cloth and began to scrub my chest, my arms, my hands. I began to get more comfortable.

Then she had me turn around and she washed my back, rinsing out the cloth and wetting it down, wringing out the clear water to pour down my body.

I almost forgot that I was in the shower with a naked woman, if you can believe that. I mean, it was just really soothing, the water splashing over me, the rough swish of the cloth on my skin. I got really relaxed and I think my cock even started to soften a little.

But then I felt something else. It was Aunt Sandy's erect nipples tickling my back, and then her warm body pressed up against mine as her hands slid around my waist. My hard-on sprang back to life.

"Oh, David, this is going to be a day I'll never forget," she said, and she started to slide down. Her hands brushed against the sides of my crotch as she went all the way down and lathered up my legs from behind.

I knew I was never going to forget this, either. I wasn't sure if maybe I should be doing something, or saying something, but I didn't want to risk spoiling the moment.

I shouldn't have worried; Aunt Sandy was in complete control. When she finished with my legs she spun me around, facing her. She stood up, her naked body just inches from mine. I couldn't help staring, taking in all that firm flesh. Was I really going to touch it? Was my cock really going to be buried in her pussy?

She read my thoughts again. "It's real, David," she said with a giggle. "Here, feel it." She took my hand in hers and drew it up to her breast. I gasped when I felt it.

I'd never touched a breast before, at least not one that wasn't covered up by a bra and a blouse. But this one was right there, in the flesh. "Rub your fingers over it," Aunt Sandy told me. "Gently. Now circle the nipple with one finger. Mmmmmm. You can suck it if you like."

Of course I liked. I bent down and took the brown button into my mouth. "Lick it," Aunt Sandy said, and I did. "Yes, now nip at it, very gently -- ohhh, yes! Very good, David!"

I moved from one breast to the other, sucking and nibbling like they were ice cream cones. Aunt Sandy's hands roamed over my body, occasionally brushing against my stiff cock. Then she rubbed some more soap on her hands and brought them down to my crotch.

The slippery feel of her hands encircling my shaft almost made me shoot right then, but she squeezed down and the urge went away. "You've got a very nice cock, David," she said. "Nice and thick. I think it's going to fill my cunt wall to wall, dear. Do you think you'd like that? Would like to put that hard cock in your auntie's hot pussy?"