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All that first summer she had stayed, he thought she was real fat under those clothes just like her fat-ass ankles, but then at the end of summer, on a windy day, her stupid baggy tee shirt had been plastered against her side and she wasn't fat at all, which just proved what a freakin' dork she was! And that fuckin' freak eye of hers she was always hiding with her hand, and those stupid large plastic frame glasses! or always taking a freakin' eye test looking at a fuckin' chart on the wall!

His self-loathing skyrocketed with that last thought. She wasn't a cyclops, she could see out of the always squinting eye.

Even without the bare tit or tits, he'd still have a good time beating off, watching her, thinking about how good it would be to fuck her, then shoot his jizz all over her face, her tits, her ass.

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He was a few seconds away from shooting it, his body stiffening, his torso curving forward a little. He wasn't sure if he jumped but he instantly turned towards the sound, his hand still gripping his deep red, throbbing rod. It had to look like he was pointing it right at her, which in essence, he had been. He had frozen in pose too, still hunched over a little, gripping his throbbing prick at the base, he had stopped breathing.

He wasn't certain he had jumped, but he was positive Aunt Jean had. Her good eye went really wide and her freaky eye strained to open wider too, so much so there had been a sort of stretch crease by her odd, disfigured cheekbone. Time seemed to become suspended, or at least super slow motion. Dad agreed he was old enough to take care of himself, but he also said he thought Ron would end up partying a hell of a lot and that worried him, things getting out of control, someone getting hurt, the liability.

And she must have five fucking pairs, and those damn stupid tee shirts that are always too freakin' big on her!

The only freakin' parts of her he had seen were her oddball fat calves and piano ankles, her arms basically from her elbows down, and her head!

He ran up the stairs, praying, hoping that he'd get to his bedroom window and not miss it, if and when she propped herself up with her elbows to reach for her ice tea or whatever the hell she drank.

Last week when she did that she had twisted her torso and he had seen her naked tits for at least five seconds.

Her eyes on his cock, his eyes on the extra distortion behind her thick framed glasses around her freak eye. He added that since he had suggested Ron take this summer off, not work for the contractor this summer and just enjoy himself before college started, that the old adage about boredom being he devil's playground had some validity to it.

It seemed they had stared at each other for ten seconds, although it couldn't have been more than a couple, yet he recalled that he had thought at the time, Why aren't either of us moving? Ron had said he could trust him a dozen times, but Dad said he knew how peer pressure worked, he knew that even if Ron didn't plan a party, maybe some friends would just show up some afternoon, and in a friendly way they'd share a six pack and after Ron drank a beer or two suddenly having just one party wouldn't be that bad because everyone would be careful and adult about it.

Those times had made him mad as hell because he never told on her.

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