Chapter 1: The Wedding

Mike arrived at Gary's wedding reception with a sense of resignation. His younger cousin had never been a big part of his life and the invitation and acceptance had both carried a sense of family duty rather than joy at a marriage. Gary was fifteen years younger than Mike. He'd started out as an annoying younger cousin, then progressed to one of many distant relatives, and now there was no real connection except through their long since passed grandparents. When he'd gotten the invitation, Mike had run through a list of Garys he knew before rereading the message

Mike actually skipped the ceremony. It was at a church on the other side of town and he had no real interest in fighting the traffic on a Saturday afternoon just so he could sit through it. The rented hall was at least nice, catering almost exclusively to reunions and receptions. The hall knew how to look posh, from the columns and archways to the wall paneling and trim. At least you felt like you were getting your money's worth, even at their pricey rates. There was also a good sized hotel out back, owned by the same group. Guests from out of town didn't have far to stagger and the occasional uncle who partied too hard could pay a reasonably inflated last-minute rate to avoid a DUI on the way home.

Mike headed over to the entrance table and was issued a table card and a lapel pin. When he gave the well-dressed lady a confounded look with the lapel pin in hand she smiled and pointed to the large, well-stocked central bar.

"You're with the Keith-Harrison wedding, which is open-three. This lapel pin lets the bartender know whether to charge you or not."

Mike clipped the small yellow pin to his lapel and eyed the bar for a moment. "Open... uh, three?"

The lady nodded. "One is sodas and domestics, two is all beer and single shot mixed and three is mid shelf and doubles".

"And four?"

"Top shelf. We don't see too many fours."

Mike nodded and smiled. "Thanks". Good old uncle Herman, never one to shy away from spending cash. Or drinking. Gary was probably going to be like him, which wouldn't be a bad thing. Herman had finally gotten his dry cleaners off the ground, and now ran a couple different businesses in and around the suburbs. He'd never shied away from spending beyond his means, according to Mike's dad, but now he was supposed to be pretty well off.

The bartender smiled when he saw the pin and made Mike's whisky quickly withing skimping on the amber liquid. It was decent stock, a shelf down from what Mike would have gladly paid for, but free was free. The bartender shook his head when Mike dropped a tip, though

"Not required, sir" he said. "Your host paid the tip already".

Mike slid the pair of bills further. "Always tip your bartender, especially if you're drinking whisky" he intoned.

The bartender nodded curtly and smiled. "Anything else, sir?" "Lemme have on for... my date" he said, assuming there was some single drink rule for hard liquor.

The bartender had another up without hesitation and Mike nodded.

Mike made the rounds, quickly finishing his pair of drinks. He spent a good half hour greeting his endless array of cousins, uncles and aunts as they filed in. There were few kids, only a few infants made the rounds and Mike dutifully inspected each drain on the planet with praise and coos. He had never wanted kids, but it was political to fawn over new relatives, even ones as distantly related as these. Each cousin wanted updates on the end of his latest relationship, so he gave out the abbreviated and mostly a lie version of "growing apart" and "different goals". Sleeping around on him could be described as "different goals" he supposed. His goal had been to have a loyal and trustworthy girlfriend.

The only real surprise was Aunt Amy. She was older than him by perhaps ten years and had only been his Aunt for three years before her marriage to his Uncle Tom had imploded. Tom had the trifecta of alcoholism, mistresses and money problems in play and Amy finally had enough, leaving him in a fairly impressive scene during a big Christmas family gathering.

Mike leered at her for a second before snapping out of it. When he'd last seen her she'd been a touch overweight, very frumpy and styled for an eighties flashback. Now, however, she was tone, trim and had a hairdo that was one step short of punk rock. She had blond hair, trimmed and spiked in the back with white tips. Her weight had added a touch of size to her breasts, which were now well proportioned without being massive. Her thin yellow sundress clenched her sides and emphasized her curves, it was barely proper for a wedding, showing a bit too much leg and cleavage. It was shocking, and he barely managed to reach the bar before she did.

"Scotch", she said firmly. She glanced over at him and hesitated.

"Hi, Aunt Amy", Mike said in a friendly voice.

Amy gave him a blank look for a second, then a bell apparently rang somewhere in her head. The change was dramatic. She burst into a smile and hugged him, laughing. "Jesus Christ, Mike. You've grown!"

The bartender came back with a bottle that Amy frowned firmly at.

"Top shelf is not covered by..." the bartender started. Before he could finish Mike dropped a twenty on the bar.

"Ah, a man who knows how to treat a lady", Amy said with a smile. She wasn't carrying a purse, and the yellow flowered sun dress seemed absent of any pockets.

Mike smiled. "So, I haven't seen you... well, since you told Tom to fuck his mistress with... uh... what was it?"

"One of his hundred empty bourbon bottles", she said, turning a fair shade of pink.

Mike laughed and collected most of his change from the bar. Amy picked up the tumbler of scotch and sipped. She turned to look across the room and Mike eyed her over. It was an oddity, appreciating the charms of a woman who was, or had been his aunt, but it was hard not to appreciate the amount of hard work on display. Feeling a bit bold, Mike commented. "You look great! A lot of time in the gym?"

Amy managed to blush even further. "Every time I didn't want to go I pictured Tom... and I beat the crap out of a heavy bag or lifted for an hour".

Mike nodded and sipped his whisky. Family members drifted by, saying hello to each of them and collecting glasses of beer and wine. There were a few sideways glances at Amy, which soured her mood. Mike finally pulled her away, apologizing. "I guess they... haven't all gotten over it."

Amy shrugged halfheartedly. "It was an ugly scene"

"A well deserved... but ugly scene"

Amy smiled and touched his arm, pulling back quickly. "Well, I have to admit I was a little surprised to get invited. I think Herman... felt bad about the way Tom and I..."

Mike nodded. "I think he also felt bad that some family members were... inclined to take Tom's side."

Amy shrugged. "Family" she said simply.

Mike shook his head "Doesn't make it right."

There was a long moment of silence, broken by an announcement that the dining room was now open. They filed into a large ballroom which had white-linen tables along the edges. There was a huge DJ setup, racks of speakers and lights and the huge wedding party table at the far end. A table of hor d'oeuvres sat under metal lids on the left and a number of tuxedo wearing waiters milled around with water pitchers and trays.

"Swank" Mike whispered.

Amy nodded with a smile, then checked her table card. "Table 14" she said showing him the card.

Mike glanced down at his card with a moment of apprehension and was thrilled to see a fourteen on the bottom. "Guess we're the outcast table" he joked.

A momentary look crossed Amy's face that Mike couldn't recognize. It was almost panic, almost joy, and somewhere a bit o guilt.

The initial boring wedding components got underway quickly, something that Mike had to credit either to the skill of the DJ or the facility. They were clearly intent on getting everyone down to dancing and drinking, something that Mike appreciated. In a short amount of time the wedding party had obliterated a small lake of champaign, and Mike found himself dancing with cousins and aunts to guilty pleasure wedding music, line dances and oldie classics. Over and over he found himself or managed to be dancing with Amy, who had availed herself on the free fair whisky selection at Mike's urging. She was no lightweight, but after her sixth or eighth double, she had moved from relaxed straight past carefree to downright mellow.

During one particularly awful line dance, Mike took a break and watched her dance. The next song, a techno club classic started up and Mike stared in fascination as Amy swung into the song, swirling and shaking. She was clearly in her own world, spinning with her hands above her head or rocking her hips to the beat. Flashes of leg appeared below her knee-length skirt. Her top strained to hold her breasts still through her gyrations and she swayed through the beats fluidly. It was erotic and surprising and engrossing and the spell held fast until she opened her eyes and stopped, looking around self-consciously. When she looked over at Mike, she blushed again and carefully adjusted her dress and hair before moving unsteadily over to the table.

"I've... had a bit too much to drink" she said quietly, playing with a plate of food.

Mike laughed and took her drink, dodging her attempt to grab it and downed it. "It looked to me like you've had exactly the right amount to drink"

Amy laughed, then blushed. "You're sweet. Which is too bad"

"Too bad?"

She jumped and murmured something, then stood carefully. "Since someone stole my drink, I'll have to get another."

Watching her go, Mike considered his motives. Looking around, he wondered at a few expressions. Some of his more conservative relatives had given her occasional glances of disapproval, others, especially people his age, seemed to appreciate how much fun she was having, or at least appreciated a pretty lady dancing. For Mike, there was the desire of a beautiful woman who was having a good time combined with something else. The taboo of his aunt, true blood relative or not, was even more intoxicating than the booze.

After a few moments of contemplation, however, Mike stopped and really considered his afternoon. Amy was beautiful, sexy, free and apparently interested. She was also, and this was important, shy, timid, a relative of some sort and a bit drunk. If he pushed her into doing something, the regret and anger potential was devastating. With a sigh, Mike resigned himself to showing Amy a good time for the remainder of the evening, without pushing the boundaries.

When Amy returned she seemed to have relaxed a little. They spent a few minutes chatting about family rumors and his life after college. Mike's attempts to pry into Amy's life was less successful, she deferred questions by insisting there was little to talk about, or she simply laughed and waved him off. One new and interesting development was Amy's new fondness for touching. Jokes resulted in a hand on the arm or a lingering clap on the shoulder. He also noticed her legs under the table brushing against his. Mike wasn't a fool, even if it wasn't intentional she was displaying a clear interest in him physically. His resolve to play nice weakened a little, but he noted the half-full glass of whisky she'd brought back and shored up his resolve.

Mike decided at some point to stop dancing. Partly it was the alcohol and partly it was to avoid any signs of a relationship between he and Amy. He had to beg off several songs to avoid disappointing Amy, claiming everything from a light head to old football injuries. She joined a growing crowd of younger guests for the fast songs, coming back to the table out of breath and glowing. Eventually she'd worked her way through another few glasses, and Mike started to grow concerned about her getting home, finally meeting her out at the bar.

"How are you getting home, Aunt Amy?"

She bristled a little over the title, but took her glass and shrugged.

"Taxi. I didn't want to drive".

Mike nodded and got another soda. She was clearly drunk, and he felt bad that he might have pushed her a bit. Finally, Mike decided to escort her out, carefully. "Why don't I get you a cab. You're a little tipsy"

Amy nodded and leaned against the bar. "I had a good time, Mike".

Mike nodded and dropped another tip for the bartender. "Be right back"

Outside, he managed to hail a cab. "I need to make an exit, can you drive someone once around and come back for me?" The cabbie shrugged and started the fare, so Mike hurried inside and got Amy. "I've got a cab waiting, he's going to drive around the block while I say goodbye to everyone, OK?"

Amy blinked in confusion, then nodded. He helped her out to the cab and made sure everyone saw him come back inside. After telling everyone goodbye, he hurried back out and got into the cab, finding a sleepy aunt.

"She's not going to puke in my cab, eh?" the cabbie asked.

"She's fine" Mike lied. "Amy, where's your place?" When she didn't respond, Mike gave up and gave his own address.

Getting her up the steps to his apartment was a bit of a chore. She might have been lean, but she was still an adult and Mike had been drinking as well. With a bit of effort and the occasional wobbly step, he managed to get her up the two flights of steps to his front door. He leaned her back against the brick and fished for his keys, only to hear her giggle and slide. He grabbed her thanks to a daredevil lunge, managing to get a firm grip and pull her upright. With a start he realized that he had a large handful of breast in his left hand and no real grip with his right. He tried to turn her, but she slid and lost a shoe, nearly dropping to the concrete. Mike groaned, feeling her nipple harden in his palm.

"Amy, you have to stand up" he grumbled.

She slid her feet out, but had no real traction on the landing. She seemed to realize he was struggling to keep her up and finally slid free and wound up sitting on her butt.

Mike released her, a little reluctantly, and waited to see if she'd topple over. When it seemed like she was going to manage, he quickly opened his door and braced it, then headed out to get her upright. Standing seemed to be out of the question, so he lifted under her arms and dragged her backwards, finally depositing her on the big couch. A quick trip to the bathroom produced a towel and a plastic trashcan in case she got sick, but she was sleeping and snoring, sprawled sideways on the wraparound. Mike went into the spare bedroom and grabbed an old blanket and pillow, then headed back to try and at least make her comfortable. The blanket worked well, he just had to pull her legs up onto the couch. This produced some awkward moments. When you have a handful of shapely legs, parts of your mind simply kick on, and things start to happen. When he had to essentially lift her ass to get her situated, his penis sprung to life and he spent a solid minute breathing slowly to calm down.

The pillow had been an afterthought, but looking down on her head, it was probably a good one. The couch had very puffy cushions and of course she was laying with her head on the downslope and in the gap between them, meaning she was craning her neck. It did do nice things for her chest, forcing her breasts out against the fabric. Mike said a silent thanks to the gods of luck and breasts, then tried to lift her head so he could tuck the pillow under. When he finished, Amy was staring at him in surprise.

"Where am I?" she asked, trying to look around. The motion bothered her and Mike was worried she'd get nauseated.

"My couch." he said with as much reassurance as he could.

Her response was to try and get up, which worked just as well as it had on the landing. She turned slightly green and Mike grabbed the trash can.

"Uh, you were pretty passed out, and... I don't know your address, so I kind of brought you here."

"Bold of... you." she said, settling back down and draping her arm over her head.

"I... thought there might be a scene if you went back inside, so I tried to get you home."

Amy looked hurt, but nodded. "Good boy" she muttered. "What time is it?"

Mike glanced around. "Uh, about 6 or so..."

"Wake me in a few hours, I'll go home then".

Mike nodded, then went to stand up.

"Stay here... in case I need you" she muttered.

Mike made himself comfortable next to her head, trying not to move the sofa too much. The end unit of the wraparound opened into an easy chair, so he got a beer, sat down and grabbed the remote. Within ten minutes he was asleep.

Mike dreamt about sex, mostly involving his ex girlfriend or super models, but Amy kept creeping in to bother him. When he finally woke with a sore neck, he looked around in shock. "Shit. I need to..."

"Wake me up?" a voice asked.

Sitting in the opposite chair, Amy was wearing one of his shirts and holding a large glass of ice water. The TV was tuned to the news, and he saw the ticker read 11:00. "Ah, crap. Sorry. I totally fell asleep. I'll call you a cab..." he said lamely.

Amy shook her head. "I'm fine. A little drunk still, and probably due for a nice hangover..."

Mike started to stand up but Amy stood first and came over to sit next to him.

"You were a gentleman, and I appreciate that. Some guys..." she waved her hand a moment, then trailed off.

"Yeah, well... I think the nausea and... uh, unconscious thing kind of helped."

Amy smiled and sat down next to him. "Thanks, anyway. Look... Mike, I know you've been... interested in me tonight. And I appreciate it. You're a great guy... and all that... but I'm still your aunt".