My pants were about to break from my hardon. I turned to the counter, grabbed a knife and hoped lettuce had healing properties that shrunk swelling—swelling of a penis.
“There’s the man!” Uncle Zack said.
“I’m the man?”
“All will be revealed,” he said with a mystical gesture. Then he stuck out his hand.
I had sufficiently recovered to turn, bonerless, and shake hands with him.
“Good to see you again, Mikey. And, thanks for saving my ass the other day and trudging over here to send me those files. I hope your Aunt Lee as least gave you something tasty to eat as a reward.”
“He was in such a hurry, he bolted out of here the minute he was done,” Auntie Lee said, maybe a bit too fast and nervously.
The truth was she DID give me something tasty to eat: her juicy red-haired pussy. But, it was best my Uncle Zack didn’t know THAT had been on the menu.
“Yeah, things to do. But, I was glad to help. After all you two have done for me all my life.” I hoped that covered up for her anxiousness. She had told me to be cool about what happened. I hoped she would do the same.
“Dinner about ready?” he asked.
“All except the pasta,” Auntie Lee said. “And Mike is going to test it right now.”
“Al dente!” Uncle Zack sang. “That means—”
“To the tooth,” I said. “Which is all the Italian I know!” I laughed.
“Limited oral skills. Unlike your Aunt.” He kissed her cheek. She looked at me with wide eyes.
All I could think was my aunt’s face buried in my pubic hair. I felt a little jolt in the pit of my stomach. It stopped when my uncle continued:
“She knows what? five languages?”
“Four, so don’t exaggerate.”
Funny how guilt makes everything, even innocent stuff, feel tense.
I tested the pasta, it was good and hard—unlike me, thankfully.
We sat at the dining room table and ate and laughed at the stories my uncle told. All the people he met and all the places he had been—they all seemed to be full of quirks and little details that go invisible to most of us. Uncle Zack sees them, remembers them, and reinterprets everything in a way that’s either funny, sad, or just plain interesting. It made me glad I was related to him, and it made me hope I was something like him.
Uncle Zack said, after all the pasta, meatballs, and bread we could hold was eaten, “Let’s all go sit in the living room before dessert. I’ve got something to say.”
“I’ll clear the table,” Auntie Lee said.
“I’ll help; get it done quicker,” I said.
At one point, my aunt leaned close and whispered, “I know what I’D like for dessert!”
Then we were in our standard locations: me in the chair facing them on the couch.
“Hopes,” he started. “We all have hopes. Some of them good, some of them wrong, and in some of them lie our futures. Your Auntie Lee and I had a hope; we had it for a long time. But, as the years passed, it kind of faded and became maybe a wish, which is just a dilution of a real hope.”
He looked at his wife and she put her hand on his arm. From the look she returned, I could tell she loved him more than she loved a good fuck—by a lot. But, on the other hand, she DID love a good fuck.