Mom’s sanity depends on son’s potency * Incest * par.1

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And those jeans—those jeans clutched at her butt (the most amazing butt I had ever seen) so that each cheek was defined by their dividing line.

“Auntie Lee,” I answered.

“Auntie Lee,” he echoed. “Good choice. My choice too, if you don’t count your mother.”

If we don’t count her. I agree. I nodded that agreement.

“LEE!” he called out across the noise and the song, the line about how wonderful the guy’s girl was that night. “LEE!” he called again.

That got her attention and she looked over without stopping her solo dance. She turned on an gigantic open-mouthed smile in our direction. Uncle Zack raised his index finger over his head and made circles in the air. She laughed, put her right hand on her stomach and did a series of slow spins while gracefully circling her hips—all accentuating that great ass.

My aunt was sultry wrapped over gorgeous and sugar coated with sensual.

My uncle had met her while she was trying to break into Hollywood. She was another extra-beautiful creature who didn’t get the breaks, unless meeting my uncle was a break.

“Your Auntie Lee. How long have you known her?”

“Seems like forever,” I said without taking my eyes off her motions, her hair, her hips … her ass. “You’ve been married for ten years, and you dated her for a while so I guess I’ve known Auntie Lee since I was six or seven. Real young, anyway. Like forever.”

“And you like her?” my uncle asked. “You’ve always gotten along?”

“Auntie Lee? Oh yeah. Of course. What’s not to like: she’s smart and funny and caring. Yanno … everything.”

I wondered where this was going and why these questions, especially during the party.

“Good … good,” he said. He was always so cool and confident and sure of himself. But he looked like he was hesitating. Then he put his hand on my shoulder, looked to see no one else was near and said:

“I want you to make love to my wife.”

I thought I didn’t hear him right or was being pranked or something. I stayed looking at him for a long time. I didn’t say anything; he didn’t say anything. Nothing was said. For a long time.

Then I heard my mother’s voice from across the room: “MICHAEL! Michael, I told you to keep moving. People need tending. NOW!”

Michael, my full name. Mom only used my full name when she meant business, which usually meant I was in trouble for something. The other time she said “Michael” was when she was in one of her rare moods: a sad one or a happy one or a mushy one … you know.

I got up and turned to leave. Uncle Zack took hold of my arm, got up and whispered, “I want you to fuck your Auntie Lee.”

*******************************

I did my “tending” so Mom stayed off my back. And while I tended, I tried to keep my eyes off my Auntie Lee. After what my uncle had said, it was hard to not think of her.

But, I didn’t know what to think. Sure I had thought about fucking her, just like I thought about fucking a million other pretty woman. All while jerking off over the years.

But it was kind of a shock to have your uncle request it. Maybe he was just kidding—seeing how I would react. I think I reacted by looking like when you have to take a dump real bad: kind of worried and uncomfortable without wanting to tell anybody why.

“You’re neglecting me,” Lori said. “Just like you always do.”

Lori always needed lots of attention. She pouted when I didn’t give her enough. The trouble was that my definition of “enough” and hers were a lot different. I thought my definition was the sane one.

“Kinda busy,” I said. “My mother wants me to keep everyone happy.”

“I should be the one you want to keep happy. Remember that. And your mother’s a pain. Remember THAT!”

I started to get mad, but because of being in the middle of a party that was supposed to be happy and fun, I took a couple big breaths instead. Lori was being … well, Lori. I gave her a lot of room for stinky behavior because of her dad. He had died twelve years ago, and I thought it must be tough not to have a good dad around, like I was lucky enough to have.

The other reason I didn’t get mad was because of Lori’s mother. She had walked up at that second and said, “Everything okay here? I’m watching how you treat my daughter.”

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