Aunt Janet's Wheelchair

"I still won't believe what you say about my mother. Not her."

"Do you believe your mother is not a woman first, and a mother second? She is no less confined sexually than I am. Your father doesn't heed her desires, and she is too much of a devoted wife to find her satisfactions elsewhere."

"Stop it," I said.

"Stop the truth? Stop telling you what you know is the truth? Would that make it less of a fact?"

I looked away from her naked form, her thin legs, her carefully-shaved crotch, not able to endure what she was telling me.

"Do you know now your mother suffers without a man's touch, without his fierce response to her body? Don't you think your mother is a desirable woman?"

"Not to me," I said, my voice shaking.

"Don't you think she could make that massive cock of yours come to life, just as I did in the pool. Your poor crippled aunt giving you an erection—don't you think your beautiful, healthy, sexually frustrated mother could do the same?"

"That's enough of this talk. I won't listen any more."

"Then, just one last thing. Don't you think you could with one act of sex, of lovemaking, bring your mother to a climax that would dissolve her doubts of her femininity, her womanhood and validate her?"

I had no answers. Only more questions than I could handle. About Aunt Janet. About myself. And, about Mom.

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

Aunt Janet didn't mention anything about our afternoon swim to Mom. And I sure didn't.

I felt guilty about everything: about being naked and getting an erection with my aunt, about listening in to a conversation that I had no business knowing anything about, and now, for looking at my mom in a way I had never imagined before.

I was noticing her as a woman, how she moved, her figure, and—imagining what she would look like naked. Seeing her sister nude gave me a head start. I wondered if my mom's tits were as nice.

And another thought was haunting me: I felt bad Mom didn't get the sex she needed. And, that led to the thought that left me wondering if I could be man enough to satisfy a woman like that. (I kept driving THAT thought out of my consciousness!)

"Tommy, get your Aunt's medications for her. They're on her bureau," Mom said.

There were three brown prescription bottles. I looked at the labels. Except for the medication, they were in Spanish.

"Thank you, my dear. Oh, just these two," Aunt Janet said. I kept the third, the one that had a dot of highlighter on the label, in my hand.

Mom came in with a glass of water, and Aunt Janet dutifully took her medicine for whatever complications that long-ago accident was causing.

"Here, take these two back," Aunt Janet said. She handed me the two bottles. "And give that other one to your mother so I can take it later."

My mother hesitated as I extended my hand. She looked to Aunt Janet, who said, "Gwen, darling, you know that one needs to be taken on a full stomach."

I thought I saw a slight sign of resignation as Mom slipped the bottle into her pocket. "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes," she said.

Aunt Janet went to bed early, and while I was watching TV, Mom came in with a blueberry smoothie, my favorite.

"I want to thank you for being such a help," she said. I know it's not easy with someone else in the house, especially someone as strong-willed and demanding as my sister."

Mom sat next to me on the couch, and like a thousand times before, cuddled against me. But, unlike before, I was feeling her, smelling her, seeing her with a new set of senses. The "Mom" filter was off. I was looking at her as a woman, a living, breathing, sexual woman.

I tried to concentrate on drinking my peace offering from Mom. We talked and laughed, and then, maybe because of the long day with all it complications, I yawned and told Mom I was going to bed.

I kissed her goodnight. On the mouth.

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

"TOMMY! BREAKFAST!" Mom's voice called from the kitchen.

I had overslept.

I lay there a long time thinking about what had gone on the day before. Longer than I would have normally, but today I was moving slow. I didn't want to get up; I didn't even want to move.

Mom peeked her head in. "Hey, sleepyhead, breakfast is ready."

"Okay, Mom, just give me a minute."

It took me more than just a minute to drag myself out of bed and to the bathroom and then get my clothes on. I felt like I had hardly gotten any sleep at all. Not usual for me.

After breakfast, I felt much better and even went for a run to clear the cobwebs.

I avoided Aunt Janet as much as possible, and she was nothing but cordial when we did speak. Maybe she got the idea that what she had been suggesting was a bad plan.

After dinner, I kept to myself and went to bed early, determined to make up for the previous night.

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

"TOMMY! TOMMY! TIME TO GET UP!"

My eyes opened, but the rest of my body refused to cooperate. AND, my left forearm stung.

I looked and saw a nasty scratch that had clotted over. I must have scratched myself during the night. There were a few patches of dried blood on my sheets. I'd wash these myself before Mom saw them.

As I was getting dressed, I noticed something else. Little things, mostly. The clothes I had taken off the night before weren't in exactly the same position, the book on the nightstand I had been reading before bed was on the floor, my desk chair was neatly tucked in against my desk.

Little things that I normally wouldn't have thought twice about. But, this morning, because I was taking extra time at every step of arising, they all started to make me wonder "Has someone been in my room while I was sleeping?"

"You're nuts," I finally concluded, and went on about my day.

"Sleep well?" Mom asked. It sounded like her normal voice, but I thought I heard a little concern in it too.

"Yeah, Mom ... fine," I lied. No use getting her all worked up over a couple of nights of restless sleep.

I went to the cupboard to get a juice glass, and saw Aunt Janet's pill bottle there. Mom must be storing it where she could administer the dose during Auntie's meals.

"Look who finally graces us with his presence," Aunt Janet said. "Look how big he has become!" she beamed.

"Tal vez demasiado grande, mi pequeña hermana!" my mother said without turning from the sink.

"Veremos esta noche," Aunt Janet said while looking at me, "Veremos esta noche."

"Care to let me in on the translation?" I asked.

"I told your Aunt that her time here was going swiftly, and this will be our last night together."

"And I told your mother that tonight will be my happiest yet."

"I'm taking your aunt to the museum today in the city. We'll be gone until just before dinner. We'll have the leftover soup I made yesterday."

"We must also stop at the pharmacy," Aunt Janet said. "That's very important."

"I understand, Janet. Believe me I understand!" Mom sounded angry.

"Do you want me to go to the drug store for you, Mom?" I offered, not seeing why they should take time out of their trip for a stupid errand I could just as well accomplish.

"No," Aunt Janet said, "this is something, shall we say, 'personal.'" She gave me a smile that I didn't exactly dislike, but didn't accept as being innocent, either.

I shook off my grogginess a little better than the day before, but I still didn't feel right until we had all finished dinner.

I asked all the right questions about how their visit to the museum went, pretending to be interested.

I was looking forward to having Dad get home tomorrow, and it being two guys in the house again. Having two women at home was getting old. It made me wonder if Mom felt the same way all the time, being outnumbered.

I said my goodnights and watched some videos on my tablet in bed. My eyes were drooping and I was yawning by the time I put it to sleep and plopped it on my night stand.

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

"TOMMY! TOMMY!"

My eyes drifted open. Mom was standing over me, shaking me awake.

"We have to leave for the airport soon. Your aunt's plane. And, your father's.

It all spun into focus, although much slower than it should have: we were driving to the Dallas airport to send my aunt back to Mexico, and waiting there a few hours until my father's plane landed.

Mom pulled the covers off me like she had done a million times before when I overslept.

This time I was naked. And I had a morning hardon. "MOM!" I yelled and pulled the sheet over me again, but not before Mom got an eyeful of erection.

"Tommy, you really should wear pajamas. Anyways, get dressed."

I showered, dressed and had time to grab an orange juice. There was that prescription bottle again. I meant to tell Mom to pack it away with Aunt Janet's things, but forgot.

"Buenos días, mi amante!" came Aunt Janet's voice behind me.

"Hi, Aunt Janet," I said. She had a huge smile on her face. Ever since that time at the pool, things had been relatively "normal" between us. I decided never to say anything and let it be something that was forgotten. Maybe she thought the same thing, because she made no other advances in the days since.

For some reason, she spoke to me in Spanish, which I couldn't understand:

"Usted no lo sabe, pero ahora mismo estoy lleno de tu esperma."

"What?"

"I wanted to thank you, Tommy. During my visit here, your presence has filled me with ... let's say, joy!"

"It was my pleasure, Aunt Janet."

"It certainly was, especially cuando me jodiste. Cuando me hiciste llorar de placer, cuando se metió la mano en las partes más lejanas de mi vientre!"

"That's enough," my mother said. She had heard the last of Aunt Janet's words as she entered the kitchen.

"Gwen, don't be cross with me. I was merely expressing my gratitude to my handsome nephew. Gratitude for welcoming his aunt and making her stay so memorable. Didn't you find it memorable too, Gwen"

"We have to get going, Janet."

"¿No te gusta ver a tu hijo meter la polla dentro de mí?"

"Stop it!"

"¿No estabas emocionado de ver a su hijo a la mierda tu hermana? Yo sí creo que eras un poco celoso."

I felt increasingly uncomfortable with the tone of their voices. "I'll pack up the car," I said to get out of there.

The atmosphere was cool between the sisters during the ride to the airport. Checkin was pretty easy, they waved Aunt Janet in her wheelchair through, and the last view of I got of her was a kiss she blew my way.

Mom and I went to a coffee shop and sat in silence while we waited for Dad's plane.

"You want to tell me what was going on with you and Aunt Janet?" I asked.

Mom didn't answer.

"Come on, Mom, it was obvious that something she said or did bothered you. What was it?"

"Tommy ... Tom, my young man, sometimes we're faced with decisions that have no clear right answer. Sometimes the right solution is so tied up in emotions and obligations you can't see clearly. Sometimes you do things with the right intentions and hope for the best."

"Is that what happened with Aunt Janet? Because of the accident?"

"I have felt guilty every day of my life because of the stupid act of a teenaged girl. That accident, I thought it would forever haunt me. Your aunt knew the power that day long ago had over me, and used that power. I thought I was going to finally purge my guilt, but now, I think I've only traded it."

"What do you mean, Mom?"

She leaned against me and I put my arm around her tiny body. "Nothing to worry about, Tom. Everything will be all right."

"I want to know—"

"Hey! There's my family," Dad's voice called out.

Mom had texted our location, and Dad had found us before going to claim his luggage.

"Miss me?" he asked with a laugh.

"Of course we did," Mom said without too much enthusiasm.

"I bet you have some stories to tell about that sister of yours."

Mom almost looked startled, and quickly responded, "Just a lot of catching up and girl talk."

"Hope you were able to stay out of her way, Tommy."

This time, it was me who felt uncomfortable, remembering the incident at the pool. "Yeah, Dad, no problems."

I thought Mom gave me a strange look: one that had concern, sadness, and anger all mixed together.

"I'm ready to get home," Dad announced. "I miss my bed."

The word "bed" made me think of a reason I wanted to get home too.

Dad drove and Mom sat in the passenger's seat. I was in the back as usual when we were together as a family. Dad was the man of the house, in the driver's seat, so to speak.

Mom kept turning to look at me during the ride, something that seemed out of the ordinary, but I dismissed it as being residual tension from Aunt Janet's visit.

After I unloaded the car, I made directly for my room and closed the door. The day before I had installed an app on my tablet called MoDet Plus. It was a motion detector for your camera. If it sensed any movement in the room where it was pointed, it would start recording video and upload it to your storage account.

I had used it the previous night for the first time.

I grabbed my tablet and saw it had recorded something. I thought it was probably me tossing and turning in bed. It wasn't. After watching for about thirty seconds, I stopped the playback and ran to the kitchen.

The prescription bottle was still there; Aunt Janet hadn't taken it back to Mexico with her.

I opened it and looked at its contents. There were lots of aspirin. But, there were other white pills the same size. These had a cross etched on one side and the word "ROCHE" and the number 2 inside a circle on the other.

I took a macro photo of it with my phone and uploaded it to a search engine's image query.

Immediately, it found similar pictures from all over the web: Flunitrazepam. Or rohypnol. Or, as is more common—roofies. Illegal in the United States, but perfectly legal, guess where: Mexico.

Aunt Janet had taken a chance getting them through customs coming in on her flight. She had rightly thought they wouldn't look too closely at a woman in a wheelchair with other prescribed medicines. Or, maybe she was just plain lucky. Lucky for her, but not so lucky for me.

I fished out a half dozen of the roofies and put them in a baggie. Then I headed back to my room to watch the whole video taken the night before.

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

"Shake him, shake him like last night," my aunt said.

I had my bluetooth earphones on and was watching a scene that was shocking me. It was dark except for the light coming in from the hallway. Silhouetted were two figures, one in a wheelchair, and one standing by my bed. The angle of my tablet had been perfect to capture what was happening, and the motion detector app did its job.

The standing figure shook me, easily at first, and then more vigorously. "Tommy," it said quietly. Then, more loudly, "Tommy!" Then shouting, "TOMMY!"

The voice was my mother's.

"Roll him to one side of the bed, then put this towel down," Aunt Janet said. "And turn on the light."

"No, let it be dark. At least let it be dark, please."

"Gwen, turn on the goddamned light. I want to see him."

The light beside my bed went on. Mom was in her pajamas, but Aunt Janet was naked in her wheelchair.

"Before you roll him, take his t-shirt and underwear off."

"I can't, Janet. I can't strip my own son naked."

"I tried this alone for two nights, and you see where I've gotten. This is my last chance. My last chance. Do it!"

Mom struggled to get the t-shirt over my head, and had to use all her strength to accomplish the task. She had an easier time with my shorts physically, but you could see from the expression on her face that it was an emotional ordeal.

"Look at it, Gwen. Look at your son's huge cock!"

Mom tried not to look, but her eyes were drawn to my crotch.

"Now roll him and put the towel down," Aunt Janet commanded.

Mom managed to do exactly what she had been instructed to do, albeit reluctantly. Then, without further verbal commands from my aunt, helped her onto the bed in the supine position with her withered legs spread.

"You remembered the lubrication we bought today?" Mom asked.

"Of course, don't you think I learned anything from last night? Now roll Tommy on his back and get him hard."

Mom whispered, "Nooo. I couldn't do that."

"Gwen, we're almost there. With the legs you've cursed me with, I'm not exactly mobile. now DO IT!"

Mom looked at me, then looked at my penis specifically for a long time.

"Gwen, you know you want to; you know you want to see what it's like when it's hard. How long has it been since you saw a hard cock this close? How long has it been since you had a real man?"

"Stop it! He's my son for God's sake."

"But, you have to admit, mi hermana frustrada dulce, that Tommy is not only your son, but a strong and virile man. Stroke it, take it in your hand and stroke your son to his full hardness." These last words from my aunt were a hypnotic whisper.

To my shock, Mom's right hand reached out and touched my flaccid penis with her palm. She rolled her fingers over it, lightly at first, then with more vigor and speed.

"Nothing's happening," Mom said. "maybe the drug was too strong. Maybe it's a sign—"

"Use your mouth," Aunt Janet commanded.

"No! This has gone too far. I've done my part. You can't expect me ...."

"Use your mouth. Imagine the taste, the feel of a hard cock in your mouth. Think of the power you have as a woman to excite a man again."

Mom was shaking her head, the same head that was getting closer to my body. So close that rested her head on my thigh as if exhausted by the struggle.

"That's it, Gwen. Now just stick your tongue out and lick the end. Just the end."

Mom did, and my cock gave a jump, both on the screen and in real life.

"Suck the head in, suck it completely in." Aunt Janet's voice was a song Mom was lost in.

She opened her mouth and took the head of my penis in, held it for a moment, and then I saw her cheeks hollow as she sucked.

She didn't need any more coaching from there. Soon she had my whole flaccid cock in her mouth, and she kept pulling her head up to expose it only to plunge back down on its entire length. But, she could only contain the entire length for the first two repetitions. After that, blood started engorging it until she could barely keep her mouth around my thickness and only about four inches inside.

Unconsciously, Mom's hand started jerking up and down. Mom was giving me a blowjob. "Oh my God!" I said as I watched.

"That's enough," Aunt Janet warned. "He's only good for one. I found that out the first night. If you make him cum, we're finished."

Mom pulled her mouth off me and pumped one last time. The precum that bubbled up got gobbled in one long last lick.

"You push and I'll pull," Aunt Janet said. She grabbed my wrist farthest away from her and pulled with all her might, starting to roll my body on top of her. Mom used both hands on my back and drove with the force of her legs until I finally plopped on top of my aunt.

It took less than thirty seconds for them to roughly line me up. "Hurry. Guide him into me before he loses his erection."

I saw Mom go between our legs and fumble about. "Do you feel it?" she asked. "It's there. It's right there."

"Yes. I feel it at the entrance of my vagina. Stroke it gently to try and get him to make some fucking motions. Push his butt to get him started."

Mom did all this and everything else she could think of. Finally, my hips started to move with a rhythm.

"AAAAAGGHHH!" screamed my aunt. "TOO BIG! SO BIG! He's tearing me."

But, there was no stopping me now I had found that tight tunnel. Natural, primal instincts took over.

Aunt Janet's screams subsided, and were replaced by rapid and heavy breaths. Sweat beaded on her face and arms. After about a minute, a decided change took over: she began to moan.