Mme Moreau
- 2 years ago
- 44
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The More Things Change free porn video
As Nick Sparks stepped off the plane into bright Georgia sunlight, he
couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive about visiting his Aunt
Gretta and older cousin Milly again, for the first time in several years.
He hadn't exactly enjoyed his summers spent here, for a variety of
reasons to embarrassing to go into, but that was ages and ages ago.
Nick was sixteen now, a young man with a cute girlfriend, cool haircut,
and a mouth like a sailor that could easily bring his single mom to the
point of tears when she was being stupid about things like curfew or
letting him use the car. So he ignored the tiny little bit of foreboding
he felt as he made his way to the baggage claim. His Aunt and cousin had
probably forgotten all about that stupid little game of pretend they'd
always made him...well, asked him...no, made him play.
They'd invited him to a wedding, because he was a relative and his mom
couldn't make it due to work, and that was that. Milly was tying the knot
with some rich businessman from New York, and by all accounts it was
going to be one massive wedding. Maybe Nick could even hook up with some
cute girls from the groom's side...it wasn't like his girlfriend would ever
find out.
Satisfied with this thought, Nick hauled his massive suitcase of the
luggage carousel, slender arms buckling slightly with the effort, and set
it down. The past was the past, and Nick Sparks, AKA Sparky, was not
about to let memories of a few weird summers ruin the present. He began
rolling his suitcase towards the exit, passing a restaurant and wishing,
once more, that his mom had been able to supply him with more money. He
knew finances weren't that tight, and the forty bucks she'd given him as
spending money had already been spent on the flight over to get food and
drinks, leaving him just about penniless.
Nick swallowed as he saw his Aunt Gretta for the first time in years,
standing there waiting in the arrivals lounge. She was taller than his
mom, and in better shape, too, and though they both shared the same
attractive facial features, Aunt Gretta always looked decidedly less
friendly. But that was just bad memories from when he was younger, wasn't
it? He was sure she was perfectly friendly now, and even if she wasn't,
Nick was not going to put up with some ice queen bitch ordering him
around all week. Feeling totally confident once more, Nick strode up to
her, opening his mouth for a casual greeting, but was immediately cut
off.
"Well, you certainly have more nerve than I remember, showing up to your
dear cousin's wedding dressed like...like that," Aunt Gretta snapped. The
disdain in her voice had a way of making Nick instantly self-conscious,
and despite himself he looked his outfit up and down: skinny jeans and a
worn Metallica concert shirt.
"The wedding's not today," Nick protested. "I mean, it's not until
Sunday, right? I have nice clothes with me!" Aunt Gretta didn't even seem
to hear him, instead she was inspecting the rest of his appearance with
a
critical eye.
"I see you cut your lovely long hair," she scowled, tapping her lips.
"Your mother informed me of such, but seeing it in person is still
so...disappointing. Ah, well, there are ways."
"I like it short," Nick said defiantly, rubbing a hand along his short,
spiky brown hair. "And why are you..." He cut himself short with a yelp of
surprise as his Aunt leaned forward and briskly felt his hips and waist,
almost like a security guard doing a pat-down.
"You've been keeping yourself nice and slim, thank God," Aunt Gretta
said. "Though I suspect you may need a bit of help in one department.
Now, Nikki, are we going to stand here jawing all day or are you going to
nip off to the washroom like a dear and change into something more
appropriate?"
"I thought the rehearsal wasn't until Friday?" Nick ventured, thrown
totally off-balance by his Aunt's barrage. He felt like a bewildered
thirteen-year-old boy again, confused and slightly embarrassed, and it
was at that exact moment of weakness that his Aunt pulled a garment bag
out from behind her back. Nick blanched.
"You've got to be kidding me," he gasped, hoping fervently that his Aunt
was about to burst into laughter, or even that a hidden camera was going
to emerge, but Aunt Gretta just arched one eyebrow imperiously and thrust
the bag forward, followed by another.
"It's in your size, darling, don't worry," she said, sounding quite
bored. "Now be a dear and get changed, won't you? I'll watch your
luggage."
"I'm not going to get changed!" Nick gasped, blushing. "Aunt Gretta,
that's...that's a dress!"
"And what did you think you would be wearing?" Aunt Gretta asked coldly.
"Of course it's a dress. Have you really forgotten all those lovely
summers we shared, just me and Milly and pretty little Nicole?" Nick went
beet-red at the mention of 'Nicole', a moniker he had hoped was behind
him forever!
"N-no," Nick stammered. "But I'm a grown...growing man, now, and there's no
way I'm putting on a stinking dress, so you can get that stupid idea out
of your batty old head right now, lady!" Aunt Gretta looked momentarily
furious, so furious Nick recoiled slightly, half-expecting a slap, but
then she grew calm.
"You have developed a bit of an attitude, haven't you?" she remarked.
"Well, since you don't approve of my selection, let's see what you've
packed, shall we?" Without further ado, she leaned down and tugged the
zipper of Nick's suitcase wide open. As he saw the contents of his
suitcase, Nick's mouth did the same! Instead of the lazy assortment of T-
shirts, jeans, and the one rumpled suit he had packed, he now saw...
"My, your tastes have developed quite nicely," Aunt Gretta said, smiling
for the first time as she picked through the meticulously folded skirts,
blouses, and lingerie. "Though some of these selections are a bit more
mature than I'd expected, I suppose you are at that age..." She held up a
short, flouncy miniskirt that Nick had never seen in his life, clucking
her tongue and giving her nephew a conspiratorial wink. Nick was
absolutely flabbergasted.
"That can't be my suitcase," he said, still stunned, groping desperately
for the baggage tags. But his name was on it, clear as day, and
furthermore...
"Really? Because, just at a glance, all of these adorable little outfits
appear to be in your size, Nikki dear," his aunt pointed out helpfully.
"And why, your initials even appear on a few items. I'd say that's a
little too much to be coincidence." She was still picking through the
suitcase, now holding up a silky bra and panty set dripping with powder
blue lace, and people were starting to stare as they realized whose
suitcase it was. Nick, absolutely mortified, was frozen to the spot, now
realizing exactly why the people at security had given him such a strange
look when his baggage went through the X-ray machine.
"But I packed just last night," Nick groaned. His mind, shocked by the
revelation, was still two steps behind, but he was on the verge of
figuring things out when his Aunt connected the dots for him.
"And your mother re-packed just this morning," she said cheerily. "And
she really went all out, didn't she? I suppose she wants her daughter to
spend the week in style."
"That conniving bitch!" Nick exclaimed. Aunt Gretta zipped the suitcase
shut and stood up with eyes narrowed.
"Your use of language is one thing she hopes will improve over the course
of this week," she said. "Which is why I'm instituting a new rule for
you, dear. Every time you use a foul word, you will reapply your
lipstick, or gloss, depending on what you're wearing. Does that sound
fair?"
"Both you and my mom are nuts if you think I'm going to put up with this
again!" Nick hissed, voice lowered as he tried to avoid making an even
bigger scene in the airport. "I'm sixteen now, not some little kid you
can boss around, and..."
"Would you like to buy a plane ticket home, then, since you're an
independent adult?" Aunt Gretta asked innocently. "I'm sure I have no
problem with that." Nick reached instinctively for his wallet, but even
as he did so he remembered that he had zero dollars to his name. "Not the
best situation, then, is it?" his Aunt asked dryly. "All alone in an
only
somewhat-familiar city with no money and a suitcase full of female
clothing. Even a headstrong young teen like yourself should see that
there aren't really many options here."
"Well, I'm not going with you," Nick said, trying to sound decisive, but
his trembling voice gave him away. This felt like a horrible, terrible
d?j? vu! Maybe it was all just a weird dream, and he would wake up back
on the airplane... Nick looked around at the passengers collecting their
things and moving off towards the exits, then down at the suitcase he now
knew to be filled with girls' things.
"Now that you've felt a bit of the stick, why not a taste of the carrot?"
Aunt Gretta said. "If you agree to be sensible about things and behave
as
a good girl should, there is hardly any chance of me sending our lovely
old photo albums to your girlfriend...what was her name...Dianne? Dianne
Harding at 394 Nestley Drive? They're already in envelopes, you know."
Nick could feel his resolve breaking down. He gulped hard.
"She wouldn't care!" he protested. "That was just...just kids' stuff..."
"Was it?" Aunt Gretta asked bemusedly. "So she wouldn't mind seeing you
in your training bra and underthings, or learning to manage high heels,
or those lovely photos of you all dolled up for that little debutante
competition Milly wanted you to enter?" Nick flushed furiously. He'd been
so stupid to think all of that stuff was gone and buried in the past!
There was no way he could let Dianne see all those photographs of him!
"You old hag," Nick sniffed. "Don't you dare..."
"She seems to think you're quite macho, funnily enough," Aunt Gretta
said. "That's what your mother told me, anyways."
"Why did mom do this?" Nick asked weakly, the fight slowly beginning to
drain out of him, replaced by a sense of inevitability that this visit to
Georgia would be exactly like every other...
"She thought you could use a bit of a refresher, dear, that's all," Aunt
Gretta said airily. "You've become a real nuisance and a trouble-maker at
home...trying to be all tough and manly and such, calling yourself
'Sparky'...how ridiculous! So when I told her about the upcoming wedding,
we both saw a golden opportunity to put you back on a more appropriate
path. And Milly was overjoyed, of course, to have her dear cousin Nicole
attending as a bridesmaid."
"A...a bridesmaid?" Nick gaped.
"That's right," Aunt Gretta smiled. "The wedding preparations are well in
hand already, so I should have ample time to get you properly prepared."
Her smile dropped. "Oh, and just so you know, as far as the vast
majority
of attendees are concerned, you are Milly's younger female cousin Nicole.
So, if you want to avoid being a laughing-stock, I suggest you work
very,
very hard to be believable." Nick collapsed down onto his suitcase, head
spinning. He had not only been thrust back into his Aunt's clutches, but
he was now expected to be a bridesmaid, as well!
"You won't send any photos? Or, or take any new ones?" Nick asked,
knowing he was defeated.
"It's a wedding, dear, photos happen," Aunt Gretta shrugged. "Now, up off
that suitcase or you'll wrinkle your things. My parking meter is running
quite low, if that clock on the wall is any indication, so I'll give you
fifteen seconds to make your decision. Fourteen. Thirteen." Nick stared
at the garment bag draped over his Aunt's arm, and the smaller bag with a
familiar toiletry case in her other hand. He cast around the airport one
last time, as if someone might arrive to save him, but of course it was
only full of the busy chatter of people coming and going.
"Eight," Aunt Gretta said. "Seven..." Nick let out a mute groan of
frustration, ashamed to feel tears welling up in his eyes. What could he
do? Where could he go? He wasn't about to go to the police with a
suitcase full of girls' clothes and try to explain to them what had
happened...it wasn't as if any crime had been committed...
"Four," his Aunt continued. "Three..." Holding back tears, Nick bowed his
head and reluctantly slipped the garment bag from his Aunt's grasp.
"That's better," Aunt Gretta smiled, handing him the second bag as well.
"You'll find your cosmetics in there, darling. Don't worry, it's like
riding a bicycle, you never forget. And we have a week to get you back up
to speed, as well."
"W-what about my hair?" Nick asked nervously, realizing that his 'macho'
haircut was about to become a big problem.
"We'll deal with that later," his aunt said. "For now, maybe it will look
trendy? Hurry up, now, darling, I wasn't joking about the parking
meter."
Nick stared towards the bathrooms, knees trembling slightly with fear and
consternation. "Use the family one, Nikki, they're never occupied," Aunt
Gretta said. "I'm going to go add some money to the meter. Oh, and since
you called your mother a bitch once, and myself an old hag once, that
means two coats of lipstick. Red."
"Aunt Gretta..." Nick trailed off, giving his aunt one last pleading look,
but was met with not even a glimmer of sympathy. Swallowing miserably,
Nick Sparks walked slowly towards the bathrooms, bags in hand, as if
going to his execution. Even though he was still clad in jeans and a T,
he could practically already feel his nyloned legs rubbing against each
other in the constricting stride forced by a skirt, the wobble of his
hips as his high heels clattered against the tile, the sensation of bra
straps pinching his skin and a waist cincher squeezing him breathless,
the long hair brushing against his neck and the mascara weighing his
lashes and the waxy lipstick coating his mouth...
As he hesitantly pushed open the door to the washroom, Nick couldn't help
but ruefully think: the more things changed, the more they stayed the
same.
Anastasia
- 07.12.2020
- 12
- 0
