Brittney York opened her eyes and groaned. She looked at her phone and saw it was 3:42 in the morning. Some idiot was ringing the doorbell like crazy. She wrapped a lavender bathrobe around her compact, well-proportioned yet pudgy body. She grabbed a wooden youth-size baseball bat and went to the look outside. Brittney kept the porch light on at night so she was able to see if was her maternal uncle, Al, when she look through the peephole.
She snatched to door open. “What do you want?”
“Damn,” belched the 49 year-old. “That’s how you greet me.”
“Come on in. You’re drunk.”
“Only a little,” he slurred.
“Want some coffee or water?”
“Uh. Water. You got some chips?”
“Sure,” she rolled her eyes.
Al York made it to the couch. Brittney set down the cup and plate on the coffee table.
“So what are you doing here,” the hostess inquired.
“I didn’t think I should be driving,” he stuffed his mouth.
“How did you get here?”
Brittney waved her hand dismissively. “Of course you did!”
“Hey! Be nice!”
“I guess you were too ashamed to go home to your wife,” the niece opined.
“You know Sherry don’t like nobody drinkin’,” admitted the maintenance supervisor.
“And why’d you come here?”
“I heard something I thought you should know.”
“Dionte’ got killed.”
“I’m not. Look,” he fumbled with his phone screen.
Brittney peered at the social media post from Dionte’ Copeland’s mom. It, in fact, indicated that the inmate at the privately-operated medium-security prison was stabbed to death in a fight. Brittney froze. She dropped her head then began to tremble and sob.
“I’m sorry,” Al said. “I didn’t want you to be alone when you heard.” He slid closer to her and went in for a hug. He was surprised she didn’t fight him off of her. “I know you cared about him.”
“Do you,” snapped Brittney pulling away. “You did everything to keep us apart!”
“I know. I was wrong for that.”
“Yeah! You were,” she stood up. “I need a drink!”
Brittney went into the kitchen and poured some lime-flavored gin into a glass. She added ice and some blended lemonade and iced tea.
“Can I have some,” called out Uncle Al.
Brittney returned. She two glasses and handed one to her inebriated guest.
“Thanks,” he grinned sloppily.
Brittney sipped her beverage. She thought about Dionte’.
The handsome, slim, light-brown guy lived down the street from Al York and his family. Brittney was staying with her extended family because her mom was in and out of jail. Back then, Brittney was Bryant.
Dionte’ was the object of Bryant's older cousin Arielle’s affection. Bryant also had a crush on the juvenile offender.
One afternoon, when Arielle and her mom were the beauty shop, Dionte’ came over. The swagged out goon was 17 and three years older than Bryant. Dionte’ ended up pulling out his dick and the femboi sucked it. Within days, they were fucking at every opportunity.
Dionte’ was doing his sissy boi, Bry-Bry, in the wooded area of the park, in the basement of his grandma’s house, behind the corner store dumpster, and anywhere else he could.
Al caught the two boys doing the nasty in his house. He kicked Dionte’ out. “I’m not gonna say anything,” he told his nephew. “It can be our secret. You know we could always do what y’all were doing if you want.”
Bry-Bry shunned the advances. The next day, Bry-Bry was picked up by a social worker. Al had told his first wife that his nephew had propositioned him. Aunt Lawanda wasn’t having any of that. She was an active member of their Holiness church serving on the Women’s Auxiliary, Usher Board, and Pastor’s Aide Committee. She wanted that demon c***d out of her home. Bry-Bry was placed into foster care and bounced around until he graduated from high school.
Brittney started her transition in college and had kept in touch with Dionte until he was convicted of manslaughter.
“I really should’ve kept my mouth shut back then,” Al said.
“Yeah,” she snarled.
“I realize my mistake. I wish you’d forgive me.”
“I already have, Uncle Al. I had to let that shit go cause the resentment was poisoning my life.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”
Al was now on his second marriage. He and Lawanda divorced after she went through his browsing history and found loads of tranny porn. She put him out immediately.
Al leaned in for another hug. “You smell good, sweetheart!”
“Thanks,” sniffled Brittney.
“You know I was just jealous of Dionte’.”
“I didn’t know how to say it, but I wanted you to myself.”
“I know it’s strange, but I did. Hell, I still do.”
“You can’t be serious, Uncle Al.”
“Well, I am!”
“I just found out my first love was murdered. You’re too much.”
“I’m gonna get another drink. Want some more?”
Brittney went to refill the glasses. When she sat back down, Al was rubbing his crotch.
“I would spoil you, baby girl,” Al confessed.
“Spoil me how?”
“You know take care of you,” intimated the rugged, burly older man.
“Seriously? Like what?”
“Pay your rent. Buy you gifts. Take you out.”
“And what would I have to do?”
“Just stay looking pretty.”
“Is that all?”
“Yep! I really wanna fuck you so bad. I know it’s wrong, but I do,” Al shared.
“I need to be held,” whispered a tipsy Brittney. “Can you just hold me?”
Brittney and Al went to her bedroom. They crawled under the covers.
Al pulled her close and hooked his hardy arms around her. They rested just beneath Brittney’s natural 36B tits. He ran his calloused hands along the silhouette of her body still shrouded in the bathrobe. His dick stiffened.
“I love you, Brittney,” he said almost inaudibly.
“I love you too, Uncle Al.”
“Let’s just try it one time.”
Brittney agreed before she even realized it.
Al stripped down then eased her out of the robe. Her body was immaculately curvaceous. “Them hormones worked wonders,” he mused.
“Thank you,” her large eyes stared through him.
Al stroked his 9-inch rod. He got behind his transsexual niece and worked it inside of her sphincter. “Ah, shit! That’s tight!”
“Owwwww,” whined Brittney.
“It feels good, girl!”
“You like it?”
“Yeah! I like this tranny pussy!”
“Give me that big ol’ dick, nigga!”
“Yeah, girl! Throw that big booty back on Uncle Al’s dick!”
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you’re fucking me,” Brittney shrieked.
“Me neither! It’s better than I imagined!”
“It does feel good!”
“Yeah! This tight pussy hole is perfect!”
Al fucked Brittney until he came. He fell asleep and woke up a couple hours later. He got dressed and kissed her on her forehead.
Later that day, a package arrived. It was from Uncle Al. She opened it to find a long stem rose, a $50 gift card to a grocery chain, and a nail salon gift certificate. There was a note that read, ‘Love you. See you tonight.’