Two Months of Weekends

The late summer sunrise was just beginning to peak over the edge of the horizon, lighting the town of Point Hope with a light blue glow. The people who lived there, easily less than a thousand, were still mostly asleep, their warm houses insulating them from the cool sea air. In the silent early morning you could hear the sound of the waves hitting the rocky shore of the point the town was named for. And just north of that town, surrounded by the edge of a forest of evergreen and tamarack, was the biggest house in over 100 miles. It was a modern two-story cabin with thick windows facing the sunrise and an attached garage. If you were to look through the east-facing window and look into the kitchen of that cabin, you would see a woman who looked 10 years younger than her age and a man who looked old enough to be her father, drinking coffee around a granite countertop.

Regan Mills brought the ceramic coffee cup up to her lips. Her eyes looked exhausted, her hair was disheveled, and the hoodie and sweatpants she wore stank of salty sea air, but she had a smile bright enough to power a soul at the brink of exhaustion. Regan looked across at her companion, an elderly man, plump with a grey beard. Theodore Beauchamp laughed deeply and hooked his thumbs in his patterned suspenders, adorned with a dog and cat faces. His empty coffee cup sat between them and he looked at her, eyes sparkling.

"When will your nephew arrive?" he asked, grasping the coffee pot with his cracked and weathered hands, pouring himself another cup and smiling at the liquid lovingly. His hands were stained from years of physical labor and hard use.

"About five more hours, if Jacob is to be believed." She picked her phone up from the counter and checked the text from her brother for the hundredth time that morning. "Yes, he should be arriving around 11. It's a long way from Philadelphia, so he took a late night flight. Apparently," she poured some more creamer into her coffee, "he can sleep on a plane just fine. Just like you on a boat."

"You just need practice!" he laughed, sounding like a French Santa Claus, before drinking more of his coffee. "And Pearl is already with your brother, you said? I remember you telling me about that last month."

"That's right, she'll be back in Juneau at the end of August. This way," Regan lifted her hand up and held up two fingers, waggling them back and forth, "she gets to visit both Paul and Jacob, and Paul gets to visit me here and see Pearl before he flies back."

"And Paul's mother is a non-factor right? She is your sister?" Theodore set his cup down, asking the question carefully. Regan stiffened, ever so slightly.

"Was my sister. 20 years ago." She answered flatly, sparing no emotion. Theodore had partnered with Regan for years now and he didn't even know the name of Regan's sister. The situation was never explained to him, but the details wouldn't have mattered. Theodore nodded warmly, stood up, and clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"I hope you have a great time with your nephew. I should get going - my family is waiting for me. Are you taking time off again, like you did, couple years back?" He stood up, pushing himself away from the counter.

"Not with the twins just born in Barrow. It's ok, we will still be in town Thursday through Sunday, just like usual. That's plenty of time. Maybe Paul can even join us on the boat!"

He stood up and smiled again. Theodore's jovialness must have come from working with animals all day. His patients never argued with him because of something they read on Facebook. He nodded to her and left out the front door, starting the walk back towards the town.

It was midday before Paul knocked on Regan's front door. She jumped up from her living room couch, running across the carpeted floor as the door flew open and her 22 year old nephew opened the door, carrying two rolling suitcases. They clattered to the floor as she threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over.

"Jesus Aunt Regan, it's like coming home to Dad's pitbull. Every day, it's like he's never seen me before." He hugged her back, tight as he could. He wasn't particularly muscular. In fact, Regan was in better shape than him due to her work.

"Shut up, it's been lonely around here." Regan said quietly, hugging him for a moment before letting him go. "When did Jacob get a pitbull? Why have I not seen pictures yet!"

"How are you doing? I haven't seen you since - " he trailed off, gesturing his head back and forth as if to say "you know, but I don't want to say it."

Regan's face fell for a moment. Every day that passed she thought about him just a fraction less - never nothing though. But today was a less-often day.

"Yea, I'm ok. Well, we had the funeral and then that next year it wasn't safe to leave home so - I haven't seen you since Jude's funeral, no."

Paul nodded, giving her a sad smile. Regan quickly reached out and grabbed his face by his chin and cheeks.

"No, you stop that ok? It's been two years. It sucks, but I'm fine. It took a long time to get fine. Now, you're here until the end of September, so we are going to enjoy your time here! Capiche?" She nodded his head up and down with her hand and said in a very deep voice "Yes, Aunt Regan, capiche. You're the best Aunt ever, and you look young enough to be my sister!"

He pulled his head back and batted her hand away, laughing. "Ok, ok. I just - I care. Dad told me not to mention it. But I love you too much not to make sure."

She gasped and placed a hand on her chest and spoke with a phony Spanish accent in her voice now, taking one of his bags and bringing it through the living room towards the stairs. "You love me? Te amo, why did you never call me after the Mexico game?"

They got upstairs and Regan threw Paul's luggage onto the guest bedroom. Her master bedroom was in the south facing corner of the house, the guest bedroom was next to hers, and Pearl's was downstairs off the living room, to give her privacy while she still lived at home and if she ever wanted to come back. Now it was mostly used for storage of her late-husband's things in plastic crates. But the guest room had new curtains, a squishy double-bed, and a bookshelf full of some of Regan's favorite books that people maybe would want to read, on the rare occasion that she had guests. Paul, Pearl, and Jacob all were at her late-husband's funeral, with Jacob's ex-wife nowhere to be seen of course. But Paul staying here now was the only time anyone other than Regan had slept in this house since then.

All of this flashed through Regan's mind as Paul took the suitcases off the bed and placed them against the wall. "So what's first thing on the agenda?" He said, shaking her wandering thoughts back to reality.

"Well," she clapped her hands. "I can't take time off work this time. So, I thought you could come with Ted and I as we make our weekly rounds up the coast. Feel like being on a boat?"

"Sure, sounds fine - who's Ted? Are you dating again?" he looked at her, his eyes flashing up and down her body for a second, appraising her.

"Ted is the vet that I partner with. Monday we go to Point Lay, Tuesday we go to Wainwright, and Wednesday we go to Barrow. Thursday and Friday in town, weekends by emergencies only. Since there aren't a lot of doctors up here, the state pays for me to service all 4 towns. Ted tags along and keeps me company on the boat. And no, I'm not dating him. He's married with two kids."

"Yea but it's 2021. Lots of people are poly these days." Regan threw her head back and stomped, dramatically, out the door, groaning loudly at him. She turned around several seconds later, from the hallway peaking in.

"We leave first thing Monday morning. Like Ted gets here about 5:30am and we leave less than an hour later. You sure?" Regan asked, leaning halfway into the doorframe.

Paul's eyes widened at the early morning hour that she described. It was much earlier than he normally got up. But he was a good sport and he wanted to spend time around his Aunt. "I can handle it. Let's get it on." He said, nodding firmly. She looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. "I mean," he stuttered and stumbled over his words. "What do we do until Monday morning then?"

"Tonight you just rest. Tomorrow is chore day, we'll figure out the rest later. Haven't had a routine for a while now, so whatever we want!" She smiled and called from the hallway as she walked away. "I'll be in the office if you need me! Just knock. Patient files!"

Regan retreated down to the first floor, in the room next to Pearl's bedroom. Her office was a windowless room with a comfortable office chair, a desk, and a three-drawer filing cabinet. Regan stepped into the dim room and locked the door behind her, smiling for a moment as she realized she hadn't locked this door for months now. The freedom of living alone meant that Regan had dispensed privacy, and never had to think about a schedule of personal time. Paul had arrived just at the wrong moment then. She sat at her desk and, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of her fingers on her own skin, hooked her thumbs around her waistband and white cotton panties, and wiggled them down her hips until they were at her ankles. She leaned back in her chair and began to touch herself. One hand rested on her neck, gently rubbing her skin, as the other rubbed between her naked thighs the soft brown hair above her pussy. She started to stroke up and down her lips gently, slowly, to set the mood. Her mind was transported away to her fantasy world.

Her fingers split around her clit as she rubbed herself. I'm bending over the kitchen counter, my nameless lover's cock pressing against me, teasing me. She moaned softly as her hand rubbed harder on her neck, feeling the pressure against her skin. He holds me down, his assertive hands are rough against my naked skin. She squeezed her neck like it was her lover. The head of his cock, absolutely huge, is pressing against my pussy, threatening to split me open. She rubbed at her clit faster, making little on it with two fingers. He pushes into me and it's just as big as I hoped, perfect, just barely big enough to start to hurt. She rubbed faster now, her other hand finding its way under her hoodie top - she was not wearing a bra and her nipples felt nice against the soft cotton and her pinching fingers. He's going balls deep. He's going to go all the way into me. Her mind was a swirl of emotions perched right between falling into her dream world and fucking herself senseless. She snapped open her eyes and reached into her filing cabinet, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a large rainbow colored dildo. Closing them again, the scene changed.

He throws me on my back onto the bed and he pushes my knees back towards my head. She spread her legs again, working the red tip of the toy into her pussy now. She could feel her own heartbeat against the fake cock as it wiggled inside of her. Her orgasm was quickly approaching. He's grabbing my legs, pressing them even harder, and sinking his cock into me. She was teetering again between her fantasy and her reality as she pushed it deeper, fucking herself with it now. He's slamming into me! Regan pinched her nipples again, firmly, twisting it as her lover's cock stretched her, pushing nearly all the way down to his balls. She heard a noise upstairs and her fantasy spun out of her control. Her lover became her nephew and she looked up behind her closed eyes and saw his face as her bed shifted under her weight. I wrap my legs around my nephew's back and urge him faster.

Her reality crashed back as she actually processed the sounds above her head. It was maybe a few seconds but time slowed down as she realized what she heard, who it was, what she imagined, and what it meant. She yelped and yanked the dildo out, dropping it onto the floor as her legs came up onto the chair. She sat for a moment and finally shook her head, standing up and pulling her pants back up, walking away, frustrated.

Hours later, a still sexually frustrated Regan was in her living room, watching the weather forecast. It was important to her that she be aware of any storms, since she traveled by boat up the coast, as any roads between the cities were the kind that didn't get put on maps. Her shoulder length blonde hair was still wet from the cleansing shower, nearly scalding hot, that she took after her failed relaxation in her office. She murmured to herself, a habit she had picked up. "You're going to go to bed, and just not think about it anymore. Tomorrow is a new day. It's just a random fluke." She had convinced herself of this, hours ago actually. But she had to keep saying it. She missed the touch of another person, so very much, that the fantasy stuck like honey in her mind. And even the third tall gin and tonic she mixed that evening wasn't enough to melt that honey.

She sighed and took her drink back to the kitchen to get more ice, pausing to look out the east-facing window. In the morning it bathed her entire house in brilliant sunlight, but at night she was able to peer through the darkness to see the rocky shore, less than 100 feet away. Her house was one of the first places in the state that saw sunlight. Behind her, the front door opened. She turned around, still holding the drink. Paul stepped into the entrance and looked into the kitchen to his aunt.

"Hey Aunt Regan. You're still up?" He checked his phone. He had gone into the town to walk and see the sights that he hadn't for a couple years now. Regan lived less than two miles from town, and walking, especially in the milder months, was a great way to stay in shape.

"Oh." She stopped, stepping towards him, her feet bare against the wooden floor, one of the only wooden floors in her house. In the shadows he looked much older, more handsome, and mysterious. "Yes, it was a bit of a rough day so I'm having a drink." That's what she thought she said, clearly and concisely. In reality, she slurred. A lot.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" he grinned, removing his shoes at the front door, and stepping into the kitchen. Regan felt vulnerable, realizing how short her shorts were and how thin her white tank top was. It was slightly irrational. Paul had never given her any reason to doubt him.

"It has been a long week, I'm having a little drink to unwind. I am allowed," she responded. She wasn't aware of how deeply she was slurring her words.

"What happened?" Paul wiped his hands against his pants and started rubbing them together, listening to her story. That simple question changed his entire life.

Regan broke. Years later she would not be able to tell why, exactly, but it was of vital importance to unload this all. "Because my hu-," she cut herself off. "Jude is gone, Pearl moved away, and I haven't spent any time with anyone other than patients and Ted for two years. I haven't seen friends, I haven't been fucked in years," she nearly spit the word at her nephew, "and I'm so tired of this big house with nobody fucking in it." She took a large gulp of her drink, finishing it, abandoning the task of getting ice, and continued. "And do you know how bad it got, Paul?" she drew closer to him and poked him in the chest when she said her name. She looked up at him, her nephew was a few inches taller than her. "I almost called my sister! Your mother," again, nearly spitting the word, "tried to sue for full custody from your Dad when they got divorced. She fought him tooth and nail, and you know what the final straw was?" She angrily set her drink down and lifted his shirt up to his chest with one hand and yanked down his pants just a little, pointing to the scar right above Paul's groin. Millimeters away from his pubic hair, there was a long thin scar on his hip, faded from years of growth. "She dropped a curling iron on you when you were three months old and tried to blame your father for it! She tried to have him arrested for it, she didn't even bring you to the hospital!" She was so heated that her hands were still pressed against his body, and her thumbs were stroking his skin. "That bitch nearly made sure that I don't even have you or your dad in my life!" Regan was panting from the exertion of lifting the heavy emotional weight up to where her nephew could see.

In the next few seconds, Paul leaned in to give Regan a hug. At the same time, Regan moved to hug him back, but they turned their heads in the perfect way and wound up with their lips pressed together. Neither could tell who turned it from an accident into a kiss, but within the next heartbeat her tongue was in his mouth and his was wrestling for domination. Regan felt the weight of his body against hers as he pushed her against the counter top and pressed himself against her roughly. Her hands were in his hair and he moved from her lips to bite her neck, tasting her skin and running his hands through her damp hair. He could smell the gin on her and his cock was pressed hard against his aunt's waist.

He bit her neck, just a bit too hard. Regan gasped and pushed back. "Wait, wait. Paul!" she cried out, shoving him away, panting and catching her breath. She shoved hard to put a few feet between them and covered her lips with her hand, her eyes were horrified. Their hands had been all over each other, both of her shoulder loops had slid down her arms and her shorts were an inch or two down on one side. His shirt had been lifted up again and Regan had struggled to pull his pants down without removing his belt.

"Paul -" she said quietly, realizing she was looking at her nephew. Her brother-in-law and sister's son. Paul moved quickly and came back to hug her and she lashed out and slapped him on the face, immediately covering her face and eyes with her hands, peeking out to stare at him. "My God, Paul - I'm sorry!" she cried out. She stood stock still. What would he do?

He came at her slower, and taking her hands in his, holding them carefully, he pulled them away from her face and, looking in his aunt's eyes, he moved to kiss her slowly. She reached her head up and kissed him back, relaxing her hands. In the eternity of moments following Regan's intoxicated rant, she could now feel Paul's hands in her shorts, slipping them down and revealing his aunt's pubic hair and her inviting pussy. She did not fight as he lifted her onto the counter top and knelt down to start licking her. She let out a long low moan as his tongue slipped between her lips and started to probe her. Her body spasmed and thought was chased from her mind in that moment, it had been so long since she had been touched.

Paul's fingers dug into his aunt's hips, trying and failing to hold her steady as he feasted on her pussy, licking passionately. Ravenously. Unstoppable. Quickly any tender or slow licking was forgotten and Paul ate her pussy with fiery passion. His aunt was losing her mind. Quickly her hands moved from hiding her face to squeezing her breasts and stroking her bare skin as she writhed on the counter top. Regan could feel her body stiffen, the orgasm she was denied today was so close to her now. She reached for Paul's head only to feel it slip away at that moment.

"Noooo" she moaned out, grasping for him to come back. She lifted herself up and looked between her naked legs and saw her nephew peeling his shirt off. She bit her lip and her eyes widened. She found him incredibly attractive, and she leaned up a bit further when she heard his belt buckle. For the briefest of moments Regan thought perhaps they were going too far, crossing a threshold that would be irreversible. But a small rivulet of liquid ran from her pussy to meet the counter top and she saw Paul's beautiful cock, maybe 8" long and so tantalizingly thick. Paul wasted no time. He pulled Regan closer to the edge of the counter and tried to mount her, but the angle wasn't right.