Exotic Travels with Aunt Cassie

When I spoke with my Aunt Cassie by phone a few weeks ago, I told her I would drive to Asheville to help celebrate her fifty-fourth birthday and said I would take her to whatever she wanted to celebrate. I assumed she would suggest we have a birthday dinner at one of her favorite restaurants, but instead, she said the best birthday gift I could give her was to drive with her on a cross-country road trip -- a suggestion I enthusiastically agreed to. I knew from hearing her voice that I would do anything to be close to her again after all these years apart.

I approached the gated, adult-only enclave where she resided two hours late and signed in with the obese gate guard who was suspicious of anyone driving a sports car into this elderly community. He checked the guest list on the computer screen and carefully examined my Virginia driver's license before allowing me through. I drove to her house and parked my "looks like new" 2003 Porsche 911 in the front circular driveway. She told me on that phone that she lived in a bungalow, but it was, in reality, a large, split-level house. She wisely spent her half of my father's estate. I walked to the front door and saw it was slightly ajar with a stickum note attached to the glass saying, 'Jake, I'm in the atrium in the rear of the house. Come on in.' I pushed open the door and called, "Cassie, are you home?"

Not hearing an answer, I entered the foyer. I could hear a splashing sound from the rear of the house, where I assumed the atrium would be. As I walked into the glass-enclosed room, I saw her swimming laps in the indoor pool, oblivious to my presence. I removed my jacket and sat near the pool, watching her take lap after lap until she completed however many reps she planned -- only then did she notice me watching.

"Jake, how long have you been stalking me?" she said as she climbed out of the pool and walked towards me. I had not seen Cassie in more than twenty-nine years (except at my father's funeral ten years ago from my hidden vantage point about two hundred yards away). For a woman her age, even for a woman half her age, her body was smoking. During one of our phone conversations, she said she swam laps daily and practiced yoga thrice weekly. She filled out her bikini nicely with her large tits, which I guessed had been surgically enhanced, and her well-rounded ass. The many freckles I remembered covering her face, boobs, and belly had somewhat diminished with age, but she was as beautiful now as she was as an eighteen-year-old who won second runner-up in the Miss Texas Pageant. I've always believed that only her diminutive stature kept her from winning the crown.

"Cassie, you shouldn't be parading around in a glass house wearing no more than a skimpy flesh-colored bikini... Every geezer in the neighborhood probably has a telescope trained on you right now."

"Most men around here can't get it up anymore, so what's the harm in giving them a little thrill? Come here and give your old aunt some sugar."

I hugged her, getting my tee shirt wet. Then, she kissed me lightly on the lips.

"Cassie, you're only two years older than me and certainly don't look old. On the other hand, all fifty-two of my years show..."

"Jake, neither of us looks our age. We're both still young and have much living ahead of us.... Hug your aunt some more. You have no idea how much I've missed you all these years. We have much catching up to do."

She grabbed me tightly and pulled our bodies close together. I could not believe it! I was experiencing a major boner -- I had been using Viagra for more than four years to get a full stiffie when I fucked, but just a tight clinch from Cassie did the trick. My dick was harder now than the times I used the blue pill. If she felt my dick against her belly, she didn't let on; instead, she continued to hold me tightly in her grasp.

We separated. She put on a sheer white hoodie. I turned away and looked out the glass panel towards her backyard, hoping she wouldn't notice the protrusion in my loose-fitting pants. She asked if I wanted water with lemon, which I accepted. Then, in deference to my sobriety, she asked, "Is it all right with you if I drink a glass of wine?"

"Sure, Cassie, I don't mind at all."

I lay in bed in her guest bedroom later that night and could not get the mental picture of Cassie in her bikini out of my head. I rubbed my dick, and it gradually became fully erect. It was stiffer and straighter than it had been in years. I wanked-off to my mental image of Cassie's image, both as she appeared today and as I remembered her so many years ago.

Two days later, we were traveling on I-85 southwest toward Atlanta. My dick stirred a little when Cassie first got into the car wearing tight-fitting yoga pants and a tank top which brought attention to her beautiful tits; however, this boner was nothing like those many, many years ago when I was a horny kid, and my dick stayed almost permanently rigid when I was around Cassie. As I drove, we discussed the scenery, the traffic, and where to find the next rest stop, but not a word about our almost three-decade-long estrangement.

When we reached Atlanta, we headed west on I-20, arriving at the B&B in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, mid-afternoon. Our one-bedroom, two-bed cabin overlooked the Black Warrior River. After checking into our cabin, Cassie took a few minutes to brush her beautiful red tresses. She donned her swimsuit, dived into the small pool, and commenced swimming laps. I changed into shorts and a tank top and sat in a nearby lounge chair, sipping my ginger ale. A few more guests checked in, and several of us guys sat together talking sports. Cassie finished her swim, slipped on her light blue crochet cover-up, and accepted a glass of wine from our hosts. The men sitting near me couldn't take their eyes off Cassie and all assumed she and I were a couple.

A short time later, I told Cassie I wanted to attend a meeting I located online near the university campus and asked her to attend with me.

"Hi, I'm Jake; I'm an alcoholic."

The eighteen strangers sitting in the circle murmured, "Hi Jake." Cassie sat quietly in the circle.

"I'm fifty-two years old. I started drinking beer heavily at sixteen and discovered weed in college. Despite my dependency, I functioned as an attorney for many years. Eventually, I let my addictions take over my life -- three failed marriages, numerous failed relationships, loss of my position as a partner in a prestigious law firm and disbarment. I've been sober for eleven years, two months and five days.

"I am traveling through Tuscaloosa on a cross-county motor trip with my aunt Cassandra to visit her twin daughters on the West Coast.

"Part of my reason for this trip is to make amends to my aunt for what I did many years ago, which resulted in a twenty-nine-year estrangement. I was twenty-three years old and was home for the summer following my second year of law school. Aunt Cassie, then twenty-five years old and divorced with two children, was living at home with her parents... my grandparents raised us together after my mother died when I was two years old. Being close in age and being raised together, Cassie and I were more like brother and sister than aunt and nephew. My dad was in the diplomatic corps, so I only saw him a few times over my life, and those few times when he was home, he paid almost no attention to me."

I hesitated momentarily and entertained misgivings about using this venue to apologize to Cassie. I scanned the crowd -- the eighteen strangers looked solemn while Cassie sat stoically as I continued my narrative.

"Cassie had divorced Joe three years earlier and was the mother of lovely four-year-old twin daughters, now grown and living on the West Coast with whom we will visit on this trip. I loved Cassie and loved those twin girls with all my heart. Two weeks before I was to return to law school for my final year, Cassie tearfully told me of a life-changing decision she planned to announce the following day.

"When she told me her plans, I shouted 'NO... NO -- you slut, you bitch... you can't do that.'

"She was sitting on my bed, and I wanted to slap her, but I didn't. I stormed out of the house and rode away on my motorcycle. I stayed at my apartment near the university. I did not speak to Cassie for over twenty-nine years until a few weeks ago when her daughter, Liza, whom I met on social media about two years previously, convinced me to call her."

I gazed around the room again. The eighteen alcoholics sat in silence. Cassie was wiping tears from her eyes. There was no turning back; this task must be completed.

"Cassie, please forgive me for the pain I put you through that day so long ago and for all the years since. I was immature then and already in the early stages of my dependency on alcohol and weed. I should have supported you when you needed me; instead, I abandoned you, my dad, my grandparents and all I held dear out of jealousy."

I looked over to her. She was crying now and could not speak. She nodded and made an almost imperceptible wave of her hand, a gesture which I assumed meant forgiveness.

I closed by saying, "Thank you," and received polite but muted applause from the assembled group. A couple of other members shared stories while I consoled Cassie.

After the meeting adjourned, we drove back to the B&B in silence. Cassie went into the small bathroom to get ready for bed. She did not look my way when she came out and said nothing -- not even a "good night"; rather, she went straight to her bed, pulled her covers up and turned her back to me. I showered and got into my twin bed, sleeping only in my boxer shorts. As I lay there, my mind wandered to Cassie and my dick stirred. I stroked it gently and again; it got as hard as it would have gotten twenty years earlier. I wanked-off thinking of Cassie only a few feet away. The orgasm was the best I could remember, but, alas, it was dry. I can no longer produce cum -- that is one of the adverse side effects of the medication the doctors prescribed for my impaired prostate.

Cassie carried on an animated conversation with our hosts at breakfast but hardly acknowledged my presence. As we drove I-20 towards our next stop in Vicksburg, she opened a little, but the conversation was mostly mundane -- the scenery, weather, and good places to eat along the route. There was no conversation about my apology the night before at the Tuscaloosa AA meeting.

We arrived at the B&B in the mid-afternoon. It was a large room on the third floor of an antebellum mansion on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. We sat on the balcony watching the river traffic until sunset. Cassie drank two glasses of wine as I nursed a club soda and lime.

After dark, we drove to the Ameristar Riverboat Casino. Cassie dressed like she was going to Monte Carlo -- a slinky, low-cut, full-length purple dress with a slit up to her ass with purple high-heel shoes. This outfit showcased her tits and ass. She attracted attention throughout the casino. I kept her in sight as I won a couple hundred dollars at the craps tables while she blew almost a thousand dollars playing the nearby high-stakes slot machines. She drank at least three more glasses of wine.

She was tipsy when we left the casino after midnight -- I supported her as we walked to the car and guided her from the car to the front door of the B&B. She was unsteady, so I carried her up two flights of stairs to our third-floor room. She is tiny, only a little over five feet one inch tall and weighing no more than a hundred and ten pounds. To help maintain my sobriety, I worked out seven days a week and thus experienced no difficulty lifting and carrying her up the stairs. I laid her on her bed.

She smiled at me and said, "Jake, do you like my titties?"

I thought, "Hell yea, I like your titties... I want to caress them, squeeze them, suck them, put my dick between them." I only said, "Cassie, you have a nice figure."

"Your dad gave me these titties..."

"I guessed that."

She walked unsteadily to the mini-bar and poured herself one of the small bottles of red wine available. She sat beside me on the sofa and said, "Jake, do you want to see my nice titties?"

"Would I ever!" I thought, but instead said, "Cassie, why don't we go to bed? We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow..."

She paid no attention to what I just said. She pulled down her dress, exposing her boobs. She stepped out of the dress, wearing a black and purple garter belt holding up flesh-colored stockings, sheer, black bikini panties, and purple high-heel shoes. She asked, "Do you like? Last time you sneaked a peak at my ta-tas, they were 32As; now they're 34DDs... Touch them."

I hesitated and thought to myself, It's not as if I hadn't previously wandered into incest territory, but I better play it cool if I'm going to get into Aunt Cassie's pussy tonight, so I said to her in a less than convincing tone of voice, "We can't..."

She took two gulps to finish her wine and then, with no hesitation despite being attired only in lingerie and high-heel shoes, staggered to the mini-bar for another. She made her way back to the sofa and sat beside me.

"You know you've always wanted to..." she pushed me down and lay atop me with my head between her tits. I felt my dick reacting -- getting extremely hard without the benefit of the blue pill. Her breasts were beautiful -- her nipple and areola were red, and her breasts were covered with beautiful freckles. Her body was better toned than most of the hard-bodied, thirty-somethings I fucked over the years.

I rolled her over and kissed her with the passion I had built up for her over the past twenty-nine years. Our tongues met and pushed against the other's. She rolled over, stood up, and then loosened my belt while I tore several buttons off my shirt removing it. We stood facing each other. She commented, "Your cock is as nice as I remember..."

"Cassie, you have never seen me with a hard-on."

"Sure I have," she slurred, "You used to beat off in the bathroom with the door half-open; I guess you were showing off -- I've seen your boner several times..."

She reached down and grasped my dick. I moved closer to her and pulled her panties down, kissing one of her nipples as I did so. I gently guided her to my bed. Her pussy was partially shaved, with only an isolated patch of red hair on her pubic area -- my dick got even harder as I gazed at her body clad in the garter belt, stockings and high heels. I lay beside her, kissing her again and rubbing her pussy. She gently stroked my cock. I fingered her pussy and rubbed some of her juice onto my throbbing cock. I put two fingers into her fuck hole and brought my hand to my mouth, savoring the taste of her pussy. She stroked my cock harder. I moved my face down and kissed her abdomen, then lower, brushing her red pubic hair with my chin and lips. I playfully tugged her pubic patch. She moaned as I put my face onto her pussy. I stimulated the labia and clitoral hood with my tongue. I could feel her clitoris getting aroused. I worked that area and inserted my tongue deeply into her vagina. Her body writhed as I continued -- she reached orgasm quickly.

I brought my head up and kissed her -- as before, our tongues explored each other's. I had no precum on my dick, another unfortunate side effect of my medication, but I rubbed some of Cassie's pussy juices onto my rod before entering her. She squirmed with pleasure. I pounded her and our bodies slapped each other loudly. She was breathing hard and moaning loudly. I brought her to another orgasm before mine. This was the best orgasm I could ever remember. As my dick started to soften, Cassie did something with her pussy muscles -- undulating them on my dick. I could feel it tightening then relaxing, like tiny fingers working my dick -- a sensual experience. She continued until I again obtained a full erection. We fucked with much intensity. I was afraid the noise would disturb the other guests, but nobody complained -- I felt her climax twice before I got off again -- as usual, it was a dry orgasm.

Exhausted, I said, "Cassie, I love you..."

"And I, you, Jake... ever since we were kids. Why did we take so long to get together."

We were about an hour west of Vicksburg when the ding of Cassie's iPhone awoke her from her hangover nap. She read the message and said, "Ra can't meet us at the B&B tonight -- she has a late afternoon meeting with a client in Austin, and it would be too late to get away. She says she'll join us tomorrow afternoon."

"That should be okay; you got this place for three days, right? We can have the place all to ourselves tonight."

"Yes, and we'll still have plenty of time to visit with her."

Ra, or Rachel, is my cousin and Cassie's niece, being the youngest daughter of the brother of my mother and Cassie. She is a year older than me, thus a year younger than Cassie. I had not seen Rachel in about twenty-five years -- our last encounter had not been pleasant. After an all-day binge of alcohol and pot, we fucked without protection. A few weeks later, she called to tell me she was pregnant. I did not offer her any help and even suggested she look elsewhere for the father. It turned out to be a false alarm, but we have not seen each other since. I felt it would be awkward seeing Rachel, but Cassie insisted -- she had not seen her niece in a few years.

We rode along I-20 in silence, listening to 1940s music on my SiriusXM radio, when Cassie spoke, "Jake, we fucked each other silly last night, and I woke up this morning with your finger poking my asshole..."

"That wasn't my finger..." and we both laughed.

"Jake, I want to get serious right now -- we have at least five more hours to Weatherford, and we need to talk."

"Cassie, we've been talking..."

"No, I mean really talking... You said at the AA meeting the other night you wanted to make amends for what happened between us. You apologized, but I sense you still hold much resentment towards me... "

"Okay, I guess I still have not completely come to terms with what happened... How could you marry Sam? He was my father -- your older sister's widower. You didn't love him -- I saw how you reacted to him over the years before you married him. You seemed to exude pure hatred towards him. He shows up, unannounced, from overseas after a two-year absence, and then only two days later, you announce you are marrying him. I have never been able to get my head around what happened... You let Joe and his mother keep the twins and you married Sam. I assumed you were after his money."

"Jake, your dad had no money at that time. The State Department terminated him many years previously; he was eking out a living working as a 'consultant' for various third-world governments -- he was up to his eyeballs in debt, and some pretty unsavory characters were looking to collect. No, to the contrary, he saw me and my red hair as his ticket to wealth... He forced me into that marriage."

"I don't understand -- how did he force you into marriage and how did he see you as his ticket to wealth?"

"Okay, I'm going to tell you some things you'll not like to hear... I'll have to start from the beginning... Jake, your dad was a pedophile and a white slaver..."

"Cassie, that's hard to believe..."

"Jake, look at me."

I took my eyes off the road and briefly looked at her. We made brief eye contact before I returned my attention to the road. After a slight pause, she said, "I was one of his victims. When I was only nine, he came into our room -- he drugged you earlier that evening so you wouldn't be awakened by what he planned to do to me -- he sodomized me, raped me, made me do disgusting things with him... His dick was hardly bigger than a pencil stub, so his penis didn't damage my formative female parts."