Aunt Jean

"My ugly eye! My ugly scars!" Her face scrinched up and she started crying harder. She stopped trying to get away.

Ron took his hands off her arms. He moved off her to get the box of tissues. He had pushed her too much. It was going too fast for her. She rolled onto her side and hugged a pillow to herself and kept crying. He had fucked up again. He shouldn't have bitched about the pleated shorts. He was trying to show her off. He was an asshole. He wanted other guys to see how hot she was even though he'd never be able to tell anyone he had screwed her. He was a huge asshole. He grabbed a bunch of tissues. He lay next to her and reached over her to hand her the tissues. She pulled her body slightly away from him when his chest touch her back. "Here, take these." Her hand pulled the tissues from his.

He waited until her crying subsided, then spoke softly, "Jean, please listen and don't interrupt me, okay?" He waited for a couple moments then frowned when she didn't respond. "Okay, maybe... maybe some people will... will look at your scars, but... what I meant just now, is that it's more likely, the... well, at the least the guys, the guys my age, and... and hell... actually, the older guys too, in other words, all the guys will..." He exhaled. "They'll... they'll probably, you know, they'll all probably... check you out, you know, elevator eye you. I know I would if I didn't know you and you showed up at a party. Hell... I check you out every day here. You're..."

He exhaled again. "You're hot, you've... you've got a great bod and... and even in the mom shorts, you... you still look hot. I... I didn't mean to... to be a jerk, but... it... not your feelings, but... it was a little funny to me that you thought, I mean, that you didn't know guys would be looking because... because you know, you're pretty and have a great bod, and... and now that I think about it, I guess... I guess I don't want guys checking you out. Maybe... maybe I... even though no one would know, maybe... maybe I wanted to be with you, you know, as... as sort of my date, even though no one would know, except you and me. I've... I've never been out with... with a smart, nice and... pretty girl at a party. It's... that was stupid of me. I'm sorry. I... I think... I think maybe we should just skip the dumb party."

Jean wiped her nose. "Ron... I'm... I'm not stupid. I... I know you've been trying to... to help me, you're... you're trying to... to get me to ignore what... what other people think, and... and you have helped me, but... but... you don't have to lie to me. I... I know what I look like. I... I guess I pretend with you that I... that I look different because... because..." She started crying softly again and tried to get it under control.

He put his arm around her and spooned her. "I'm not lying. I... I don't know how else to say this, and I... I know it sounds like... like... like I'm not thinking about... about all of you, you know who you are inside, but I do, I really do think about that too, it's part of it for me, it's half the reason I think you're beautiful, but... but if you don't believe what I say when I tell you you're beautiful and... and hot, well... how could I... you know, be getting hard-ons about you if I was lying. You're... you're beautiful, you're sexy. If you weren't I... I wouldn't be getting erections. So... if you don't believe what I say, then... then you should believe my dick. And... okay, maybe I'm trying to... in a way, help you, but... I want to be with you because I like being with you, because... because of... of what you said I shouldn't tell you. I... I don't want to make you cry, get sad or... or get really nervous. I just think that... that you're not seeing things right... clearly, however I should say it. I... I haven't meant to hurt you in any way. I'm sorry. Let's... let's skip the party. I'll call Josh and tell him... tell him something came up." He kissed her shoulder and then slid off the bed. He started towards his room.

Jean rolled onto her back. "Ron, you go. You should go. Maybe... maybe you'll meet some nice, pretty girl there."

His jaw clenched. He spun around. He didn't know his eyes were glaring. "I don't want to meet any girl. I wanted to go with you. I'll call Josh and tell him we're not coming." He turned around and headed to his room to get his cell. Just as he was stepping into his room he heard Jean come out to the hallway.

She stood outside her door. "Don't call!" Ron turned around, his eyes met hers. "We'll... we'll go."

"Jean, look, you don't wa..."

She interrupted as she walked towards him, "We're going. I... I want to go now." She walked up to him and put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "You're... you're right. I'm... I'm thinking too much about... about what other people think. I... I said I'd go, and... and I want to, but... but we... you know, we... we can't look like... like we're out on a date, but... I want to go now. I really do." She didn't want to at all, but she didn't want to disappoint him either.

*

Jean looked at the Thompson house as she kept telling herself it was going to be just like a parent-teacher conference. She had gotten used to doing those, she had to. She could do this too. Ron took her hand and she knew she should tell him to let go but she gripped it. Her other hand checked the hem of her light blue mini skirt and tugged it down a little.

"You're skirt looks fine, Jean."

She should have worn her pleated shorts. She had called Mrs. Thompson, Betty, a few days ago, asking what she should bring, what food item. Betty said to just bring her bathing suit. Jean had gotten a bottle of wine that Ron was holding. She heard about it on the radio, it as supposed to be good. She loosened her hand. She whispered, "You... you shouldn't be holding my hand."

He sighed. "Okay." He gave her hand a squeeze then released it. They started up the couple steps to the entry porch. "Think you should take off your sunglasses?"

"Um... umm... yes... I will." Her heart raced. "In... inside." She saw Ron reach for the door handle. "Shouldn't we ring the bell?"

"Nah. For parties like this, I usually just walk in. Everyone's probably out back."

"Are... are you sure?"

"Yeah. Jean... relax."

"I... I'm trying." She checked the hem of her skirt again.

"Your skirt is fine. You look awesome." He opened the door and let Jean walk in first. They heard music from the patio. A girl in a bikini was walking into the foyer, probably to use the powder room. She gave Jean a long look then her eyes turned to Ron.

"Hi, Ron." She look at the girl again.

"Hey, Cindy. Everyone out back?"

"Uh-huh." Her eyes went to Ron. "Yeah, everyone." As they passed her, Cindy again checked out the girl he was with. She wondered if she was from south high, or maybe a college girl? Ron was good looking but he was so shy. She bet he wasn't shy with that girl. Her stomach tensed. She had a chance with him herself a month or so ago. She suddenly wondered if she had made a big mistake. She stepped into the bathroom.

Jean whispered, "She... she was cute."

"Yeah... I guess." Ron wondered if he should have introduced Jean to Cindy but at the moment his only real concern was Jean's nervousness regarding meeting the Thompsons. He saw Mr. T in the open kitchen area. He spoke very softly, "Ahh... the glasses, Jean?" He headed towards Mr. Thompson.

Jean tensed, but pulled her sunglasses off, she shook her head so her hair laid a little closer to her ugly eye and curved over her disfigured cheekbone.

"Hey, Mr. T." Josh's dad was getting a bag of ice from the freezer. He was wearing a yellow golf shirt and tan pleated shorts.

"Hey... Ron, good to see ya." He looked at the girl Ron was with. His smile grew. He wanted to say something like Way to go, man! but he didn't want to embarrass the kid or his date. He put the bag of ice on the island counter then extended his hand to his son's friend. He shook it firmly as did the kid. Bill's eyes were on the girl though. "So... who's this you're with?"

"Yeah, uh... Mr. Thompson, this is Jean Mazur. Jean this is Josh's dad, Mr. Thompson."

Bill grinned as he extended his hand again and she took it. "Hi, Jean. Ron didn't say he'd be bringing a da..." His brow pinched. "Ahh... sorry, did Ron say your last name's Mazur?"

"Yes. I'm Ron's aunt."

His eyes grew wide for a moment. "Oh... I... uh... well..." He smiled again. "Of course you are, and it's Bill, I mean, I'm Bill." He glanced at her right eye for a moment. He remembered now. "I'm glad you're here, it's really good to meet you." He realized he was still holding the young woman's hand. He somewhat reluctantly let it go.

"Ahh... this is from us." Ron handed the bottle of wine to Mr. T.

"Oh... thanks, that's nice." He looked at the label wondering if he shouldn't. It was a decent bottle of wine, that brand that was inexpensive but was supposed to be very good. He had heard about it on NPR. "Thanks, good choice." He looked at the pretty girl... woman. "What can I get you, Jean? We've got wine opened outside already, so... we'll save this if that's all right. There's lemonade, sodas, and beer out there too; and I'm bartending, making cocktails. Just name it, and..." He grinned. "I'll get my bartender's book out if I have to."

"I... I'll just have some... some wine or a soft drink outside."

"All right." He put the bottle of wine on the wall counter, then picked up the ice. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Betty." He walked behind the young woman and Ron. He checked out her ass and legs, then blurted, "I hope you brought your swim suit." He cringed wondering if it sounded a bit too eager.

"I... I left it in the car. I... I may not swim."

"Oh... you'll... you'll have to. We... we usually get the kids out later so the adults can have it for a while." She really had a hot little body. He wanted a better look.

Ron got along well with both Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. They made him feel at home. "Hey, Mr. T, you said a couple weeks ago, Josh and I weren't kids anymore."

Bill grinned as he stepped to the side of Jean to pull the sliding patio door open. He glanced at her tits, small but nice looking. They fit her petite slender figure. "Yeah... I guess you're right. Okay... you can be in the pool with the adults."

They walked towards the refreshment table. Ron almost laughed. Mrs. Thompson was wearing a multi-color print halter top and a short white wrap around skirt. He wanted to elbow Jean, point at Mrs. T and say, See! See! I was right!

Bill walked up behind his wife as he set the large bag of ice on the table. "Honey? Got someone new for you to meet."

Betty Thompson turned around. "Ron! Hi." She gave him a little hug and smiled at the girl he was with, then she glanced towards the house. There wasn't any woman following them. She looked at the girl again and noticed the squinting eye and scar, her hair somewhat hiding her cheekbone. She pulled back from Ron. She kept smiling at the girl, woman if it was his aunt. Betty propped her sunglasses on top of her head. "Hi."

"Jean, this is my wife, Betty. Betty this is Jean Mazur, Ron's aunt."

"Hello, Betty. I'm glad to meet you. We spoke on the phone." A million butterflies were alight in her stomach but Jean smiled cordially and extended her hand. She told herself it was just like a parent-teacher conference. Betty shook her hand.

"Jean, it's great to meet you. I'm so glad you came." She looked at the younger woman's hair. It was a nice cut, complimentary to the shape of her face.

Bill broke in, "So... white wine all right?"

"Yes, please... thank you."

"Comin' right up. Let me just get this ice in the chest first."

"I'll do that Mr. T."

"Oh... Ron, thanks."

Betty smiled. "I'm surprised we haven't met sooner. Ron told me you're a teacher?"

"Yes. First grade."

"Oh... that must be fun. I taught for ten years. I loved it but I had an opportunity for a higher paying position in business and took it. I really missed teaching though."

"You... you were a teacher? Really?"

"Uh-huh. Sixth grade." Betty grinned. "The kids are a bit different than first graders, or maybe they're the same, but... with a different frame of mind and set of priorities by then."

"Oh... I know. I took over the sixth grade class for a couple weeks last year. To be honest, I had some problems controlling them." It had been awful, at least with a few of the boys who had made fun of her eye behind her back loud enough for her to hear the comments and titters of laughter. She had almost cried in class, but had luckily gotten herself under control.

Josh saw Ron. "Hey bro! Come over here!"

Ron was stepping to Jean's side. He turned around. He then looked at Jean and Betty smiling and talking non-stop. He gripped Jean's arm lightly. "Jean, Josh is calling me. Ahhh... you okay?"

"Um..." She gave him an embarrassed smile. "Yes, I am." She saw a glass of wine appear in front of her. She took it from Bill's hand.

"Okay... I'll see ya later."

"All right."

Ron headed towards his friends, hearing Jean thank Bill for the wine. He walked up to Josh standing with a couple other friends. "Hey."

"So... who's the chick, dude?"

Bob echoed it, "Yeah, who's the babe?"

Ron wanted to grin but he didn't. "Hey... cool it. That's my aunt."

"What? Who?!" Josh stared. He had seen Ron's aunt a couple dozen times but not really long looks. That wasn't his fucking aunt. "Don't goof on us, who is she?"

"That's my aunt."

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me, dude."

"No. That's her."

Josh kept staring. The girl was about the right height and hair color from what he remembered. "Holy shit... where the hell has she been all my life?"

Ron suddenly found himself wishing they had stayed home. "Hey, asshole, that's my aunt. Watch what the hell you say, bro."

Josh laughed briefly. "Shit, you bad mouth her all the fuckin' time."

"No, I don't." He had, mainly saying she was incredibly weird.

"Yeah, you have... well, saying she was a dork and freakin' bizarre."

"I... she's not... she's not weird at all. I was an asshole. I was wrong."

Josh laughed. "No shit, dude! Where the hell was she hiding that bod?"

"Hey, Josh... chill. I'm not kiddin'... cool it."

"Yeah, no sweat. Maybe you should chill. Come on. We got a bottle of Bushy in my bedroom. We were just going there."

Ron glanced at Jean. She was talking with Mrs. T and a couple of the other mothers. "Yeah, sure."

*

Jean was smiling, actually grinning, as they headed down the Thompson's curving front sidewalk. The last of the sunset light had faded an hour ago. She and Ron were one of the last five couples at the party. It was a beautiful night. It had been a wonderful party.

Betty called out, "Jean! Don't forget to call me soon about lunch!"

Jean gripped Ron's muscular arm as she half turned but kept walking. "I won't forget, Betty! Thanks again for the great party!"

Bill grinned as his arm went around his wife's waist. "Stop by anytime! We need to have a volleyball rematch soon!"

"We may need to practice first!" She laughed and waved. The Thompsons waved then went back into the house. Jean turned forward, continued grinning and laced her arm with Ron's. "Thank you, Ron. I... I should just listen to you from now on. It... it was a lot of fun. I'm really glad we came." She tugged her bikini under her tank top. It had been irritating her skin for the past hour or so. She wished she would have changed into her panties and bra after they got out of the pool. She thought they would leave much sooner though, not be one of the last couples at the party, so when her bathing suit dried she just put on her top and skirt over it.

"Yeah... fun." He walked around to the passenger side of the car, unlocked the door then opened it for her. Jean got in and he closed the door. As he walked around she leaned over and opened his door for him. He liked that she always did that, but it wasn't on his mind at the moment. He got in and started the engine.

"Betty is really nice. I really enjoyed talking with her, and hearing some of her, as she called them, her war stories about teaching. I could relate to some of them so much. I liked Allison and Maggy a lot too. And Bill was so funny. The food was really good too, didn't you think so? Those grilled prawns were so yummy." She looked at Ron's profile and her smile shrank, then disappeared.

He looked straight ahead a the road. "Yeah, it was okay."

"Is... is something wrong, Ron?"

"No, not really." His jaw clenched.

"Well... it seems something is. What... what's on your mind?"

"You seemed to have a lot of fun during the pool volleyball game."

She smiled as her brow pinched. "I did. Didn't you? I saw you laughing. We all were. And... you guys won."

"I noticed you seemed to really be enjoying Jack's dad helping you at the net."

"What? Who?"

"Jack's dad, whatever the hell his name is. He was all over you, coppin' feels all the time."

She made a face. "What? He wasn't doing that. If he had... I... I would have punched him out."

"That's bullshit. He was coppin' feels."

"He didn't. He never once touched my breasts or put his hands anywhere inappropriate. That never happened. Why would even th..."

"Not like that! Every time he picked you up, you had your ass right up against his chest! You laughed about it! He did that a dozen times! And you didn't say a word to him!"

"He was kidding around! And it was twice at most! He did that to all the women on the team. It wasn't just me."

"Then he was fucking coppin' feels on every other chick on your team too!"

"He wasn't! I... I would have punched him out if he had been. It was only two or three times and it was for... for a moment. God!"

"I... I didn't like it."

Jean blinked. She had never before experienced what was happening. Her 'boyfriend' was jealous. Her voice calmed, "Ron... I didn't think he was groping me at all. If I thought that, I... I would have screamed at him. I... I would have really punched him out. The... the boys... I mean, you guys on the other side, you started it with the girls on your team, remember? That's why Wayne picked up the women on our side, at our waists, and... and he was probably a little drunk too. He didn't touch me like you're implying, and... and my butt wasn't against his chest very long at all. You... you had that girl, Cindy on your shoulders for... for a few serves, the whole time. Wayne didn't cop any feels." She frowned remembering how jealous she had gotten seeing Cindy on Ron's shoulders, even though she had tried to ignore it.

"I... I don't care about her."

Jean's brow pinched. "So you think I'm attracted to or have a crush on Jack's father, Wayne?"

Ron tried to stop it, but his mouth formed a half smile. Jack's dad was big and had muscular arms and legs, but a huge beer gut too. Sometimes he looked pregnant. That was the usual joke, someone asking what month Jack's dad was in. He was also bald on the top of his head. "Okay... okay, I'm acting like a fucking asshole. Sorry." He had kind of enjoyed Cindy's pussy pressing against the back of his head and her thighs sandwiching his neck.

"I've... I've never had a guy be... be jealous about me before."