Dirty Fwank, That's Uncle to You

To my dear regular readers, this is a softer version of my normal, and the sex is coming in late to the story because she's a virgin. In her grayed young world, although unbeknownst to him, her uncle became her rock. She wanted to give him what was most important- her virginity. He gives her new life from the neglect of her past, but in the end they are still niece and uncle. Can her inexperienced naive seduction erase all his qualms? As always, comments welcome.

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"Fwank is here," I mumbled to myself, standing on tiptoe and peering out the front window to watch his jaunty walk up the weed choked sidewalk.

Not Uncle Frank or even Frank. I couldn't roll the R's like everyone else so Fwank it was and always has been. Unruly straw-colored hair, sharp jawline, and thin lips created his handsome and somewhat boyish face. Mama always referred to him as her handsome brother even though he was her only brother. Her baby brother, she always has to remind.

The morning of my sixteenth birthday Fwank showed up in his usual suit of gray pinstripe, blue tie, black suspenders, and dark gray fedora. No men wore hats anymore and I was always intrigued by it. Always, meaning the annual visits he made that were usually on my birthday.

He said, "Dolcezza I want you to come with me to pick out your birthday present." Mama insisted that she would come along. He told me later that he threw his sister a red herring and I didn't ask what that was because all l knew was, she didn't come with us and I was glad.

Two hours later we were back in my shiny red car with the white sticker in the window. I had a new car and two hours of Fwank to myself.

We parked in front of the house. He turned in his seat and said, "This is your car. Don't let her take it from you. Get it?" I nodded in understanding. Although I didn't ever admit it to myself.

He left me a set of keys but took the second set, then hugged me goodbye on the curb and left.

Mama had left for her hair appointment and manicure, but on her return the first thing she asked was where the extra keys were. I told her he had them, and her face screwed into an ugly frown. She never even wished me a happy birthday.

My name was not Dolcezza, and I was at sea to what it meant but I did love the way it rolled off his tongue... Dol-chay-za. It was certainly better than the lispy sounding name Bethany.

Mama speculated about his money and told me in a dramatically conspiratorial whisper that she could expose him as a gangster but being her brother and all, she wouldn't.

But I knew she had a crush on Eliot Ness. That's why she looped crackly black and white Untouchables on sleepless nights. She just needed to romanticize that someone in her life was a mobster, or better, that she was important in his life.

No matter, I bought into it, and after that he was Dirty Fwank to me. I did think the fedora made him more gangsterish. I watched a few of the Untouchable shows so I was savvy.

I expected Dirty Fwank on my eighteenth birthday, but he was a no show.

Not bad enough that my birthday was in July, during summer break. Birthdays that fell during the school year at least had a party with homemade cupcakes and shiny colorful hats. To make matters worse, still no Dirty Fwank.

I did not have my hopes up anyways on my nineteenth birthday. Mama would always pat her beehive hairdo and tell me, Bethany that's the way Frank has always been. We never could depend on him.. But she never had cupcakes or a present for me. So that's the way she has always been.

I just wanted his presence, not a present. He was my rock in a sea of Mama's mishmash and neglect. My best friend in high school told me once that I lived in a melluva hess at my house. She never knew the half of it.

By my twentieth birthday I didn't even consider that he would show. I had just started my summer break from the local technical school for cosmetology because I was going to be a hair stylist.

A package wrapped in wrinkled purple paper and an orange string arrived that morning addressed to Dolcezza at my address. I carefully untied and unfolded to save the wrappings.

It was a cell phone with his phone number programmed in. A note with it in scrawled handwriting said...

Call me at midnight

I showed Mama the phone but not the note. "Look what Dirty Fwank gave me."

But she just glanced at it, said nothing and grimaced, stretching her lips across her teeth to apply her red lipstick. I used to think she was sad because she could not afford anything for me, but I don't think she was sad about it at all. It never bothered her that her daughter had to wear thrift store clothes to school. I was glad when I got to the technical school we had to wear uniforms for my cosmetology classes. It was the first time I looked like everyone else.

Daddy had walked out on us before I knew him, and although she worked two jobs, we never seemed to have enough money for a hair cut for me, for clothing or shoes, no Christmas and no birthday. All I had to look forward to, or be miserable about, was a hit or miss visit from Dirty Fwank.

They say you don't miss what you never had but I was thrilled to be like others and finally have my own phone.

Mama worked the night shift and left at eleven, so I had to wait another hour to call. I nervously tapped on the phone icon under his name.

"Dolcezza."

"Yes."

"I am sorry I missed your birthday."

"Birthdayssss," I enunciated and stretched the S at the end, just to make sure he knew that I was all grown up now and he had missed it.

"Yes yes, I'm sorry, I did miss a few, didn't I?" His voice flowed like honey over the phone, sweet and calming.

I nodded, my eyes spilled tears. I don't know why he became so important to me. He was rarely around and then when he did show up, it was only for a matter of hours, and he was gone again. Yet, he was my rock.

We never knew where he lived but Mama thought probably with other gangsters and that it was best we didn't know so we wouldn't have to go into some sort of government protection and then have to give up our identity and never talk to family or friends again.

So, I guess it was good we didn't know.

"Dolcezza?"

"Yes?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes. No," I waffled.

"So, you must be in college now?"

"Technical school. I'm going to be a hair stylist."

"How were your grades in school?"

"I got all A's. Mama said I was always book smart."

"You're very smart, honey. What would you want to do?"

"I want to be a teacher."

"Nice. Very nice."

"I guess it's tough for your mom to swing the money for you. For your schooling I mean."

"I work at the diner and saved, and now I can pay for school and work now."

"Oh Dolcezza." I heard a loud sigh. "When is your summer break?"

"Right now. Just started."

"I'll pick you up Saturday morning. Tell your Mama."

I nodded.

"I have to go now. Use this phone and number any time you need me. No matter what. Call me. Even just to talk."

I nodded. My eyes leaking again. Then I sniffed.

"Don't cry."

"I'm not," I snuffled. He sighed and hung up.

The next morning, I told Mama that Dirty Fwank was coming to pick me up on Saturday morning.

Two days blurred by, and the Fwank morning dawned. I never called so last night he texted the time.

She not only never asked, but he never said how long I would be gone, but it made no difference since I had few clothes of my own to pack, and she kept all of the new clothes in her closet. Everything went in an old beat-up brown suitcase that I found in the attic.

"You make sure Frank buys you things... I don't know girl... You've always been book smart but sort of dumb sometimes," was her goodbye to me that morning before she left for work. She often told me that, but I don't know what prompted it now, nor did I care.

I was all jittery excitement while I waited at the window. He pulled up to the curb, I pulled the door closed behind me and he had already picked up my suitcase and had it in his car.

I stopped and stared. It was the first time I ever saw him without a hat and suit jacket. His tie was loose, suspenders clasped, and the sleeves of his blinding white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He opened his door and leaned on the roof. "You coming or not, Dolcezza?"

I had worn my best dress because I didn't know where we were going. It was from thrift and was well worn pink cotton that was a size too small. My bust was an ample D, as Mama described us both and often were tight in the bust.

Fwank's eyes slid over my body trying to catch up with the years he hadn't seen me. I slid into the passenger's seat, and the big black car roared to life.

I latched my seat belt, cleared my throat and pointedly looked at him when he didn't. He took my visual scolding and buckled up.

We got on a highway and the scenery began to fly by. The clock on his dash said we had been on the road for an hour and still not at our destination.

"Why do you call me Dolcezza?"

He looked over and his eyes roved over me. "You'll figure it out someday."

I sighed. "I call you Dirty Fwank."

He chortled in amusement then burst out laughing. "I don't think I'm going to ask how that came about. Would you rather I call you Bethany?"

"No." I picked at the skirt of my dress. "I call you Dirty Fwank because Mama said you're a gangster."

This time he laughed so hard the car swerved. "She did, did she! My sister is a little cracked in the head." And he laughed again.

I laughed this time, secretly agreeing with him.

"Okay so then you're Dolcezza and I'm Dirty Fwank... Although your speech is perfect now so you could call me Frank or Uncle Frank."

I shook my head. "Nope."

He shrugged."I couldn't get used to you calling me that anyway." He slowed down and we took an exit. "Time for a sandwich. We still have a way to go."

"Are we going to your house?"

"Yes, we are."

"Are you married?"

"No, I'm not. Never have. Gangster work keeps me pretty busy." He knew that I knew, and I knew that he knew, but still I wasn't about to let him see the amusement on my face, so I turned and watched the scenery rush by.

We had drippy coney dogs and chocolate milkshakes for lunch. I giggled when he thumbed the dribble of ice cream off my chin then at the corners of my mouth. He smiled with darkening blue eyes and slowly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

Back on the highway it began to get warmer, and I was glad I wore a dress. It came to my knees but if I spread my legs just a little, the air conditioning would blow up my dress. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him watching.

He didn't talk much so it was hard getting to know him, so I never knew what he was thinking. I dozed on and off and lost track of how long we were driving.

The scenery seemed different now. It was flatter and I could not see anything off in the distance. No trees. No buildings. No mountains. Nothing but beautiful blue sky.

He exited, made a few quick turns, and we pulled up in front of big black gates that inched open as we waited. He parked in the circular driveway directly in front of a house bigger than I ever imagined.

I opened the door, turned in my seat, put my feet on the ground and looked in awe up the steps and up to the two floors that soared above. He came around with my suitcase.

He looked at me and laughed. "What can I say, it's lucrative being a gangster."

I trailed up the steps behind him trying to take everything in as I went. The huge balustrades, tall windows, and palms. Palms? We didn't have palms where we lived.

"Where are we?"

He unlocked the two double doors and swung them open. I stepped into a view that shot right through the house out onto a turquoise sea of crashing white capped waves.

We were on the beach.

~~~

I have always been poor, but never sad about it. Never envied those with more. They say you don't miss what you never had, and they are right. Mama got her hair dyed and permed every week, which made her happy. Money got tight when I started school, but schooling for hair did not last long and I would graduate soon. Then she could quit her second job.

I stood at the sliding glass doors in the bedroom and silently rhapsodized the view of the turquoise blue sky that fell right down into the matching ocean. It was so dazzlingly bright that I almost needed sunglasses. Fwank put my suitcase on a long dresser and said I can unpack my things into the closet and dressers.

Everything I had fit in one drawer. I carefully stored the suitcase away in the corner of the walk-in closet that was the size of my bedroom at home.

He told me to settle in then come down and we would go shopping. He wanted me to enjoy the pool and the beach, said we would be going out and that I'd need clothes for that.

On his way out he said, "Don't forget to call your Mama and let her know we arrived safely." I looked at the clock on the nightstand and knew she would still be asleep. I decided to call her later and went downstairs in search of Fwank.

He sat at the kitchen peninsula talking on his phone. He motioned me in. I looked around the kitchen, just like one that you would see on a television cooking show. We had a hotplate, but microwaving frozen dinners was my specialty so everything in the room was alien to me.

He ended his call and said, "Ready to go get you some new clothes?"

"I don't have much money with me."

"My treat!"

He held my hand and led me to the car. We didn't have far to drive until we were at a big mall. It dusky late and lights darted up the trunks to the undersides of the palm trees that marched up either side of the drive. Inviting lights poured out of the big windows and lured you to the main entrance.

"What stores do you like to- never mind, let's just go look."

We held hands as we walked the mall. My favorite window scarecrows were sporting summer hot hues of shorts, tops and bathing suits. Oversize straw beach bags, huge colorful hoop earrings, wild sunglasses, and sandals accessorized each outfit.

"Do you want to go in and choose yourself or do you want me to help?"

"Help please."

As though he walked into a woman's clothing store every day, he strode in, scanned the store, saw what he was looking for and began sorting through the rack.

"You're a medium?"

"In shorts and stuff," I said, blushing.

A crease appeared between his eyebrows but then his eyes dropped to the pink dress that gaped across my big breasts and he tipped his head back in understanding.

He pulled out a beautiful aqua tank in large and dark aqua shorts in medium. "Try these and see how good I am at guessing."

There was a knock on the door and a girl that helped us earlier, brought an armload of clothes in as I stepped out. Fwank's eyes flared and then slowly moved over me. I nervously tucked in my worn bra strap and fiddled with the deep scoop of the neckline.

"Your friend has good taste," she said, putting the hangers on the wall hooks. "He picked all these out and. I couldn't have done better." She hesitated, then added, "Lucky girl!" I ignored the unasked question. She could fish around him if she was interested in his dating status.

According to her they all looked soooo totally tropical and soooo hot on me. We came out with all the clothes and Fwank stood there with various sizes and colors of totes and bags hooked on one arm along with a handful of earrings.

"Do you have sandals to match those?" He bumped his free hand towards the load of clothes.

She led us to the back of the store. The walls were lined top to bottom with rows of sandals ranging from flip flops to wedges to high heel strappy shoes. I sat down, she checked the size and he picked out a half dozen styles and colors that would match the clothes.

We stopped in the lingerie area and to my chagrin he began pointing out panty and bra sets while the smirking salesgirl scooped them up. Apparently, to her, that he would choose something intimate for me, indicated our relationship could be sugar daddy status. I riffled through a rack of nighties so she would not see my amusement.

"Uncle Frank, I'm going to the ladies room," I said, and watched her eyes widen in shock before I walked away, amused.

He paid and she promised to store our bags until we came back by.

"Now, we need to find you some swimsuits. I know there's a store here in the mall that specializes in beachwear."

He had my hand and pulled me behind him into the store. Torsos of rattan women topped each rack. He held up a one piece suit with side cut outs, I nodded, smiling. He checked the size and handed it to me.

He was a whirlwind through the store, and he found another half dozen suits the were consistently tinier than the last. The last one I couldn't see myself in and I turned up my nose.

"Dolcezza, trust me, you will be gorgeous in this one. Try it on? For me?"

Since he was buying all this the least, that would be the least I could do. I tried that one on first, but I felt embarrassingly naked in it. My breasts were so big that tropical color top did not cover much beyond my nipples, the matching bottoms similar but I was not trimmed enough for his eyes yet.

A couple of the other ones were very risqué, and I would be nervous to wear them, but I added them to the pile.

Both of our arms were loaded with bags as we left the mall.

"That was fun! I think I like buying things for you."

"It was. Sort of." I laughed. "Thank you. No one have ever done that for me. I don't know what I'll do with them once I go back though," I said sadly, thinking there wasn't much that would work back home.

He reached for my hand. "It was my pleasure, honey. You look so beautiful in all that. I know you didn't shop much."

"No, we just never had the money. It was mostly thrift store shopping." I hesitated. "I didn't mind though. I found a lot of nice clothes although none like these and in such beautiful colors."

He was quiet for the ride back.

"I have some business to do tomorrow, but I should be back early afternoon. Maybe you'd like to go to the beach?"

"I'd love it."

He helped me take all the packages up to the room. "You have a lot of unpacking to do." I looked at all the bags and didn't know where to start. "Oh wait!" He jogged out the door and was back a minute later. "I got you something earlier today."

"You bought me something else?" I said, my voice rising octaves. I opened the package, and it was an online reader. "Wow, thanks!" I ran my fingers over the smooth cool glass. "I love to read. I used to go to the library every other day."

"There's a program that allows you to download books, magazines and newspapers."

I hugged it to my chest and he curled his fingers under my chin and stroked my cheek with his thumb. His eyes went smoky blue, his lips parted as we locked eyes.

Reluctantly, he stepped back and said, "I'll be gone when you wake up. Raid the kitchen. It's stocked.

The light streamed through the glass wall, and I opened my eyes to a stunning cerulean sky with whipped cream clouds. I felt like a princess with the view, technicolor closet, and the warming comfort of this home.

I showered, and by routine hand washed my bra and panties. After I hung them on a chair on the balcony I went to kitchen. A half pot of coffee was on the stove, a mug, and next to that a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

I never drank coffee until I worked at the diner, because it was free. I nibbled a couple of cookies and washed my mug in the sink.

I found a soft round chair right inside the glass sliders. I had a view of the pool and the beach. I curled up in the chair, searched a book and began to read.

"That's how I find you... Your nose in a book," Fwank said, laughing. He set his briefcase on the floor. His gray suit jacket was slung under his arm, his sleeves rolled up revealing dark blonde hairy arms. I wondered if his chest was like that.