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He plays with his girl.

At least I didn't call them fags like some people did. If Troy was oriented that way, it was his life. It wasn't my place to tell his parents, either. I knew Gary and Liz would adjust.

The shock subsided. I faced a dilemma. Did I try to sneak past the open study door to get to the kitchen? Two trips, to the kitchen and back. I thought I could get away with it. Just remember to be ultra quiet in the kitchen.

I actually made it to the kitchen without any noise. I got a clean glass out of the cupboard and poured it full of milk. Also, I took a swig from the jug, something I'd never have done as a married woman. Divorce can be so liberating.

On my way back, I noticed the study was no longer silent. I shouldn't have stopped at the door, but I did. Foolishly, I looked in. I could clearly see the pix on the large screen. They flickered on the monitor as Troy thumbed through them. At certain ones, he would pause. I didn't see any pattern. Boys stroking other guys, solo masturbation, oral sex, anal sex, black, white, long and skinny, stubby but fat, mammoth, super gigantic, inhumanly humongous...The pictures came and went.

I leaned against the doorway. The move was partly from a weakness of my knees and partly to see better. I still couldn't see his cock. Although I knew I should get the heck out of there, I stayed. Although I should have been shocked to see my nephew beating his meat, I watched. Mutual masturbation had been among Mark's and my sexual activities. It had been a turn on to watch the son of a bitch shoot a heavy load from his cock as he aimed at me.

Troy was moaning slightly. His body gently rocked back and forth. The sound of pounding flesh was louder and quicker. The moans turned to incoherent words.

I had to leave. I didn't go. I wanted to reach inside my panties and get myself off, too. I was so horny. I hadn't had a good soul-rocking orgasm in so long, I was ready to hire myself out to a college fraternity or find me a German shepherd or something, anything to get laid good and hard and often.

I may have made a noise. Maybe he just sensed my presence. Whatever the cause, Troy jerked around in the chair.

"Aunt Lori!"

Fuck, it hit the fan now. I darted away from the door, back to the safety of my bedroom. I slammed the door and locked it behind me. I collapsed on the bed. Hell and damnation!

Slowlyly I came to my senses. I realized that I wasn't the one being traumatized. Most likely, Troy was feeling a million times worse than I was. Do what you gotta do, girl.

I pulled on my robe and slippers.


Troy was sitting at the computer. The machine was shut off. He had pulled on his pants. His head hung low.

I made shuffling feet noises as I entered the study. I didn't want to sneak up on him again.

He heard me. He looked up at me. His face was tear streaked and his eyes were red.

"I can only imagine how you feel," I told the teen. I got a chair and pulled it a few feet closer to him without invading his personal space. "I'm sorry that I was watching you. That was totally wrong of me. I don't have any excuse."

"N-no, that's OK."

"It's not OK, honey. What I did was so wrong."

He wiped his nose on the back of his wrist. "You must think I'm a f-fucking perve."

"No, not at all. Do you want to talk about it?" Wanting to let the offer sink into his mind, I left my chair, went to the guest bath, and brought him a box of tissues.

He took them, blew his nose, wiped it, and made up his mind to unburden his soul. It was there on his face. He said, "I'm not a f-fucking f-fag."

"Honey, it doesn't matter if you are or aren't. I can't condemn you what your body tells you, won't judge you."

"No, it's true. I don't like guys."

I tried to decipher what he was getting at.

He read my expression well. Troy explained, "I like girls, but they scare me."

"Scare you?" I asked when his silence grew a bit long. I knew that I had to keep him talking. "How?"

"The way y'all act.

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