My Favorite Aunt

“Italian. I don’t think my stomach will handle that kind of spice tonight.” I replied.

“Get your boots on and let’s go then! I’ll be just a couple of minutes.” She said cheerily. “Let’s take your Jeep. I haven’t had a ride in one of those yet.” With that, she winked and went upstairs to her bedroom to change.

I went to my room and changed into an upper-casual set of clothes. Kaki brown trousers, dark green button-down front dress shirt and black dress cowboy boots. After brushing my hair I waited in the foyer for her to return. A few minutes later I heard her close her door and start descending the stairs when I looked up. The room seemed to light up and my eyes widened as she took each step in an elegant and very feminine decent down a staircase. She was wearing a white casual dress with a black belt and black three inch spike high heeled shoes. The dress extended to just below the knee and sported a shoulder baring ruffle which hid sleeve loops to prevent them from sliding up onto her shoulders. She had her hair down but was adorned with a white hair band like those from the sixties, over the top of her head. Coupled with her amazing green eyes she looked to be in her mid-thirties. The look was classic demure elegance. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked straight at me and smiled knowingly. She knew she had that effect on men. She came up to me and with a slender finger, gently lifted my chin to close my mouth. I swallowed a hard dry lump. She looked fantastic and I then remembered why I had such a crush on her waaaaay back when. Apparently, I still had one.

“I take it you like my dress?” she asked as she twirled around for me to see the whole thing smiling happily. Her skirt flared out and I could see the white lace garters on her nude colored stockings high up on her thighs raising my temperature considerably. I thought she had good looking legs but I never suspected she wore stockings! I simply nodded in answer to her question as anything I would try to have said would either come out cracking like a puberty teen or a croak. She held out a hand, palm down and like a gentleman, I took on the chivalrous role she initiated and looked into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, large as I then thought she saw mine were. With her in hand I guided her through the door to the Jeep.

Southern nights in Georgia can be quite uncomfortable. Tonight wasn’t one of those hot steamy nights. Instead it was quite pleasant. We still needed the air conditioning but didn’t need it going full tilt. She directed me on where to turn to get to the restaurant and in no time we were pulling up to a very nice one. I parked up close to the building so she wouldn’t have to walk in those high heels which I’m sure she didn’t wear but on rare occasions. I got out and hurriedly moved around to open her door before she opened it. I needn’t have worried. She sat there as befits a proper lady waiting patiently. I opened the door and held out my hand. She took it and swung her legs over and slid out landing on her feet expertly as if she’d done it all her life. When she was married, her husband always had a full-sized pick up with large tires and wherever they went, it was in his truck. She only drove her car when he wasn’t going anywhere with her.

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