This is a long excerpt from our latest book, called Cote d’Azur. It’s a story based on the teenage crush of my husband on his aunt. If people like it, I’ll post more excerpts.
The next day he needed to take a painting to some rich people in Saint Tropez. Aunt Louise wanted to come along, but she and Rob had a lunch appointment in Cannes first. Alex was supposed to pick up his aunt in the restaurant at one o’clock. Because he was early he parked the van and explored Cannes on foot. He bought a can of Coke and some chocolate and walked to the beach. Cannes had less character than the old town of Nice, he thought, but still it was better to be here than in his sleepy village in Suffolk.
When the time was right he picked up the van and drove to the restaurant. Aunt Louise and Rob were sitting at a table in the back, together with another couple. Francis and Monique most likely. His aunt told him about them yesterday. Rich people too, who lived here in Cannes and owned a yacht too. He walked up to their table and greeted his aunt and her knucklehead husband. Aunt Louise introduced him to her friends then. Francis seemed nice. His handshake was firm and the sparkle in his eyes genuinely friendly. Alex could tell this man had a good sense of humor too. Monique was pretty for her age. Not nearly as pretty as aunt Louise, but with her blonde hair and blue eyes she was an older version of the kind of girl he had always considered his type.
Aunt Louise pulled out a chair next to her and told him to take a seat. She assured him they would be on their way soon. They were having coffee and when they were done with that she would ask for the bill. She looked beautiful today, Alex thought. Her dark hair was recently brushed and her eyelashes looked even longer than usual.
Francis asked Alex how he liked living in the south of France. He spoke English with a heavy accent, but at least he tried. They chatted about the things he had done and seen so far, but at some point Monique hijacked the conversation and told them about an au pair from America they had once had. There seemed to be no end to her story and when Alex noticed she wasn’t really talking to him anyway he checked out and began to take in his surroundings. It looked like an expensive restaurant. The waiters were all dressed the same and seemed to be in a hurry. Through the window he could see the back of the van that was parked along the sidewalk. He hoped he had put enough money into the meter. Monique was still talking about the au pair. The others were laughing about something she had just said. Alex looked to his left, to where his aunt was sitting. She was wearing a black turtleneck with a pearl necklace. The turtleneck was quite tight, he noticed. Her bosom was full, but he didn’t get a view like the other day when he had seen her breasts move underneath the blouse. His gaze went further down, quickly though, before anyone would notice. She had a belt around her waist and he also saw now that the turtleneck wasn’t a sweater, but part of a dress. Her legs were partly hidden underneath the table, but he could tell she had crossed them. The hem of the dress had ridden up the thigh which was resting on the other leg. He glanced at her round knee and the black, high heeled boots below them. He couldn’t help it, but a rush of something he could only call lust went through his body. Quickly he regained his composure and looked up and around the restaurant again. Aunt Louise was asking Monique something now and then the French woman began to talk again. Perhaps he could take another look, the little devil inside him whispered. From the corner of his eye he glanced down again at his aunt’s thigh that was shrouded in sheer, black nylon. Deep down he knew it had been coming, but still it took him by surprise, the loss of control, the heat rushing through his veins and the blood getting pumped into his groin. He no longer felt confused or aroused in a weird kind of way, no, what he was feeling now was pure lust. He wanted to reach out and place a hand on his aunt’s leg. Move it up her thigh until it couldn’t go any further. He wanted to see her naked, wanted to see those big breasts with his own eyes and then…
‘Shall we go?’ aunt Louise’s voice interrupted his perverted thoughts. Had she caught him looking under the table? He blushed and stood up quickly.
‘I need to pee first,’ he said.
The adults carried on as before, so he was probably in the clear, but as he walked over to the restroom he was painfully aware of his erection.
When they left the restaurant some minutes later, and crossed the street to the van, he noticed that his aunt was taller than he was now that she was wearing high heels. For some reason that aroused him too. What didn’t excite him, he began to wonder. His fear of becoming a pervert was growing by the minute.
They first drove to the gallery to pick up the painting, which his aunt had already wrapped in paper. Alex put it in the back of the van and off they went. It was an hour and a half’s drive to Saint Tropez. During the ride aunt Louise talked about the lunch which she had apparently enjoyed a lot. Alex could tell that she was fond of her friends. He himself felt less relaxed. While he had to drive and keep an eye on the road, he wanted nothing more than to sneak another peak at his aunt’s legs. Every time he shifted gears he got a chance. Her knees in the soft nylon made him feel weak in the stomach for some reason. The boots she was wearing didn’t help. It looked like they were made of soft black leather and the stiletto heels were very high. How could she walk on them so easily, he asked himself. Then he remembered the shoe store in Nice, where she had tried on the red pumps. Back then he couldn’t imagine her wearing shoes like that. Now he realized that he didn’t know his aunt at all. The way she was dressed today, so goddamn sexy, set him on fire and how bad was that? His uncle’s ex-wife or not, his family considered her still his aunt, so there was no way his perverted feelings could ever get out. This would have to stay a secret, forever and ever. But even supposing that no one would ever find out, there was still the problem of how to deal with his lust for her on a day to day basis. Of course the best would be if she would always dress in jeans. That way he could manage. On the other hand, seeing her like this felt really good too. In a wrong way, but good nevertheless.
Now she was talking about going to the theater in Cannes tomorrow night. Would he like to drive them there? And pick them up? That way she and Rob could drink whatever they wanted. He agreed of course. He worked for her and besides, driving them to the theater would be the least of his worries.
The couple in Saint Tropez invited them in for coffee. They were very happy with the painting and clearly wanted to hear more about the artist who had made it. Alex sat down on the couch, next to his aunt, and tried to focus on the conversation. Whatever he did, he told himself, don’t look at her legs again. It was impossible though, because when she crossed them or rhythmically moved the tip of a high heeled boot in the air, he couldn’t resist taking a quick look. The coast was clear anyway, because no one paid attention to him. He noticed how the hem of her dress had ridden up her thigh again, just like before in the restaurant. God, her thighs looked both full and strong and once more he felt a desire to touch them. A desire which was immediately countered by guilt. What would his friends or parents say if they saw him here like this. He imagined them walking in and seeing the situation for what it was: three adults having a decent conversation and an eighteen year old guy with an erection who was trying to peek up the skirt of the woman sitting next to him. A woman who was twenty-five years his senior and also happened to be his aunt. It was all just too horrible. But then he looked again and saw how she crossed her legs the other way. Vaguely he heard the swishing sound of her nylons and he felt his brain turn to mush all over again.