What I'm about to confess to, I've never told anyone. It's been my little secret for the past twenty-six years, ever since the summer of 1986 when it happened.
I was fourteen years old at the time and in the eighth grade. I lived with my mother, step-father and older sister in what once had been my great grandma's house.
My aunt Paula moved in with us that July after a bitter divorce from her husband in which her alcoholism allowed him to take everything. The house, the money, the kids. She ended up with the clothes on her back and a Whiskey bottle in her hand. She was a couple of years younger than my mother (her sister) and had once been a showgirl in the casinos of Las Vegas. I'd seen pictures of her in her prime and she'd been beautiful with flowing red hair, big brown doe eyes, a lithe athletic body and dancer's legs with round toned calves. Her boobs could have been a little bigger (the women in my family all tended to have huge tits, aunt Paula got left out) but overall she was stunning.
Now she was a mess. Her hair was cut short, she'd gone from athletic to just plain skinny and she was either drunk or looking for a drink all the time. But if you looked at her hard enough you could still see the ghost of the woman that once had been.
My parents didn't care for the way she behaved or dressed around the house. She'd wear jean shorts cut so low in back that her ass cheeks hung out and halter tops that exposed her pale, smooth white belly. I know I probably got caught staring more than a few times. Once I'd even heard mom complaining to aunt Paula and my aunt laughing that it was perfectly normal for a young boy to look and that at my age I probably stared at mom too (my mom scoffed at this, but aunt Paula was right - I did stare at mom's tits and ass from time to time, she had a nice body). Would my mom rather have me checking out men, aunt Paula asked. After a few more verbal jabs, my mom conceded defeat and left the matter alone.
Aunt Paula was a load of fun when she was slightly buzzed. Then she liked playing old Motown and Philly Soul records and showing me and sissy how to dance. She knew dozens of dances and hadn't lost a step despite her physical condition. She only became a pain when she was deep into her drink and became introspective, tearful and sloppy. My mom and step-dad weren't home a lot evenings because their jobs both required that they work through the night that summer. So my aunt was our adult supervision.
One night toward the end of July when my sister went to bed early, aunt Paula had found my step-dad's stash of cheap beer and she'd helped herself to quite a bit of it. She was comfortably buzzed and in a great mood. Sam Cooke was singing "I've got a Little Red Rooster" and she was wearing those low cut shorts and a thin white halter top that showed the small mounds of her breasts and her hard nipples clearly.
"Dance with me!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me out to where she'd pushed our living room furniture aside to clear an open space on the floor. She turned her back to me and started pushing back against me, really working her hips with her thin white arms raised above her head. I did my awkward best to keep up, embarrassed at my own inability to dance and turned on by her round little ass grinding back against me. Before long I had a painfully hard erection.
Just as the song faded out and Sam began the opening lines of "Soothe Me" my aunt started giggling.
"I know," I smirked. "I suck at dancing."
"It's not that," she laughed. "Your as hard as a rock."
I flushed a deep red and felt warmth spread up the back of my neck and through my cheeks and forehead.
Aunt Paula turned and hugged me, still laughing. "Oh nooo, don't be embarrassed baby boy," she cooed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Hell I'm flattered."
"You...are?" I asked.
She nodded, now draping her arms around my shoulders and dancing with me face to face. She was short, she looked slightly up into my eyes. "Glad I'm not too far gone to turn a young guy on. I used to be quite a looker." Her breath reaked of cheap beer and cigarettes.
"You still are," I said.
She smiled and laid her head against my chest. "I know. Your hardon said so." at that she burst into fresh laughter.
We slowed down the pace of our dancing as Soothe Me gave way to Get Yourself Another Fool. We were close together, I could feel her body pressed up against my own. Her arms wrapped around my neck and my hands on her hips. I pulled her closer, she didn't resist. Taking a chance I leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. She sighed.
"So baby boy, " she asked after a moment. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No," I answered honestly. I'd never had one.
"That's a shame," she replied. "Your a good guy, just like your dad was. You look just like him when he was your age."
"I know," I said.
"Did you know he was my boyfriend before he started dating your mom?," she asked.
I blinked. "No."
"He was," she sighed. "I let him get away. I wanted to date this rich kid whose daddy was a farmer. I figured a rich guy was the way to go. I was wrong."
"Oh," I said and snuck my hands a little further back and down, trying to cop a feel of her ass. If she noticed she didn't tell me to stop. Instead and nuzzled her face into my neck and smiled.
"I wish I could go back to being a kid," she said. "You ever wish that?"
"Not really," I said.
"Well you're still young," she replied. "I'm getting old and I hate it. Sometimes I'd give anything just to be young again and dancing with your dad."
She staggered a bit as the song ended and I stood there holding her. "I think maybe you should go lay down for a while," I suggested.
"Okie dokie," she saluted me clumsily. "Carry me?"
I helped her into the spare bedroom and she more or less fell onto the bed and pulled me down on top of her, giggling.
"Oopsie," she laughed and held me down when I started to rise. I looked at her.
"What?"
"Did you want to feel anything besides my ass?," she asked, then laughed when I flushed again, guilty as charged.
"Stop being so damn embarrassed," she giggled. "I told you it's fine. I knew what you were up to. I don't mind. You can touch me."
"but," I said. "Your my aunt."
"And I love you," she said. "I'd rather my favorite nephew learn about the birds and the bees from me than some little whore at school anyway."
"Really?" I asked.
She nodded, eyes shut now as she was near passing out from drunkenness. "You want me to suck your dick the way I used to suck your dad off?"
"Yes," I blurted out.
She reached down and groped at my crotch. I ended up unzipping my self and kicking out of my jeans. I pulled my tidy whities down and she grasped my penis in her hand. I nearly came right then and there.
No blowjob was to be forthcoming however as she was in a deep Old Milwaukee induced sleep by the time I positioned my cock near her face. That didn't stop me from sticking it in her mouth or undressing her and doing just as many things to her as I could think of that night.
Over the course of that summer my aunt and I would have several moments like the one that night. Though only when she was drunk. And on a few of these occasions she remained awake and we did have sex. She took my virginity on the night of August 8th, 1986. I'll never forget it.
Eventually aunt Paula met an older guy and moved away with him. They are still together to this day. I'm happy for them, though they are both alcoholics and she never managed to beat that particularly monkey off of her back. But I'll always cherish that summer.