Our mean aunt Stacy
Our aunt Stacy was about thirty-five, single, and generally not much to look at. She stood five foot three, with a slender build but with a little bit of flab around her midsection. She had straight stringy brown hair that came about half way down her D-cup breasts. We’d not had much exposure to our aunt, and why she even agreed to take us in was beyond me; but there we were standing at the door of her tiny, run-down house. I knocked and moments later the door jerked open and we were...