Dark Aunt Barbara, Part 4

Warning: This story is extremely dark. It includes lung cancer, sex with 
older women, incest, and death. It's written tastefully, but if the 
subjects offend you then I suggest you skip it and go on to something else. 

Dark Aunt Barbara
by slimv2001@yahoo.com

Part 4 

The next morning I awoke to the familiar sounds of phlegm being ejected to 
the tune of hacking cough. Needless to say she was holding a lit a 
cigarette. She coughed something at me that sounded like "Good morning". I 
casually wiped it off my face and returned the greeting. "How are you 
feeling?" she asked. I told her I was fine. "How about your chest?" she 
asked, reminding me that I had smoked at least a pack by my self the night 
before. I breathed deeply and felt what she was talking about. She was 
right. I wasn't used to it. The smell of her smoke gave me the urge and I 
told her so. She coughed, nodded her head and handed me the pack. 

I lit up and asked why she had a sudden change of heart about my smoking. 
What she said next almost made me drop the cigarette. 

"I found a couple of your favorite web sites on the computer." She said 
this as casually as she would say she found a bologna sandwich in the 
fridge. I felt the blood rush out of my face. I was humiliated and she knew 
it. 

"Its OK", she said, trying to reassure me. "Its not your fault. I know you 
can't help it, just like I can't help my smoking even with the cancer." 

"You're not mad at me?" I asked quietly. 

"Of course not" she coughed. "If I'm mad at anyone then I'm mad at my self 
for trying to change you. "We wasted five years of our life when we could 
have been doing what we were doing last night. You enjoyed it didn't you- 
the smoke orgasm?" 

"Oh Barbara, it was so wonderful", I said. 

She smiled and took a deep puff. "It turned me on too, I just had no idea 
what it meant to you. You really like to watch me smoke, don't you?" 

I got up the nerve to take another puff and told her that I would live in 
her smoke if I could. 

She laughed and lit another cigarette. "You're not afraid of catching 
cancer? Even after all I've been through?" 

I shook my head no. 

"So tell me", she said, "What's it feel like to be here smoking in front of 
me? Does it excite you?" My penis grew visibly as she spoke. 

I looked down at the sheets and said, "This is what I've always wanted. I 
can't tell you how many times I've dreamed about this. I feel so grown-up 
sitting here with you like this." 

Barbara tapped her ash and asked if I ever thought of smoking with her and 
my mom at the same time. I told her that I thought about it all the time. 
She took a thoughtful drag from her cigarette. Something was on her mind. 

"Do you think about your mother when you're making love to me?" 

That pale cold feeling rushed back. I didn't have to say it. The look on my 
face gave it away. 

Barbara put her hand to her forehead and scratched while she took another 
puff. "Its OK" she said. "You wouldn't be the first man to be in love with 
his mother and with all you've been through, I have to admit it makes 
sense." She cleared her throat with a deep cough and spit it into her cup. 
"Your father died when you were 10. You were the man of the house and you 
wanted every thing that goes along with that responsibility including your 
mother." She cleared her throat with another wet cough and chased it with a 
deep puff. "You started smoking because your mom smokes, didn't you?" 

I put my cigarette out in the ashtray as I thought about what I might say. 
She was reading me like a book. Tell her the truth I thought. "Yes" I said. 
"But that doesn't change the fact that I'm in love with you." 

She smiled weakly. The cancer had taken its toll. The skin on her face 
sagged. She looked like a living skeleton with big tits. "I know you do. I 
love you too", she said. "But I still want to talk about this. I'm dieing 
and there are things I have to know and decisions I have to make. Remember 
when you were 15 and your mother caught you smoking? And she called me." 

Again I nodded without saying any thing. How could I forget that day? 

Barbara put out her cigarette and replaced it with a fresh one. "You wanted 
her to accept you as a fellow smoker and adult, didn't you? You wanted her 
to accept you then as I did last night." She waited for me to say 
something. My silence was indicative of my agreement and she continued. 

Barbara put her hand on my thigh and cleared her throat. She was trying to 
look me in the eye and I was doing my best to avoid her. I looked up 
finally and stared into those sad blue eyes. The cancer had decimated her 
body, but it hadn't been able to diminish the life in her eyes. 

"I love you," she said. "And it turns me on just to look at you. You're 
every older woman's fantasy whether she would admit it or not. And to me 
you were a Godsend. Take the cancer out of the picture and most men still 
wouldn't have given me the time of the day. My smoking disgusts most men. 
But you're not most men and I know why and that doesn't matter. What 
matters is that you loved the real me." She paused to catch her nicotine 
breath with a fresh puff of menthol. "Did I ever tell you that I talk to 
your mom about our sex life?" 

"What?" I asked. "You talk to my mom about what we do? Why? 

Barbara smiled. "Because she's interested and I need to talk to some one, 
don't I?" Then she shook her head. "I've never known another woman like 
your mother. She's so concerned about your sex life. She wants to be sure 
I'm satisfying her little baby. You should have seen the envy on her face 
when I told her about the way you fuck me and give me oral sex while I 
smoke. She was jealous as hell. I'm telling you the truth. Men like you are 
a rare commodity. Addicts like your mother and I would kill for a guy like 
you. Do you know how much your mom is smoking now? She's up to four packs a 
day! Do you see where I'm going with this? You and your mom are perfect for 
each other. Don't look at me like that. You know its true. You're in love 
with her. You think about her when you're having sex with me." 

I feigned disgust. "Do you hear what you're saying? You're talking about my 
mother. That's incest!" 

"We're not talking about marriage or having children" she countered. "We're 
talking about love and sex and smoking and age differences. She's 55 years 
old. There's no way you two could ever make children. And if you get past 
the social implications, its beautiful. Think about it. What's more 
beautiful than making love to the same vagina that gave birth to you? I 
think its sweet to think of you nuzzling from the breasts that fed you, 
don't you?" 

I told her that I didn't want to talk about it any more. 

I continued to smoke in front of Barbara for the two days following that 
awful conversation about my mother. When I'd come home from work, Barbara 
would tell me that she had spoken to my mother on the phone. When I asked 
her what they talked about, she wouldn't tell me. I felt guilty and sick to 
my stomach. 

Barbara was deteriorating fast. She rarely got out of bed and she refused 
to eat. She just lay in that bed, too weak to have sex but not too weak to 
smoke and cough and gag. 

I insisted on staying home from work on the third day so that I could drive 
her to the hospital. I knew it was hopeless and she reminded me of that. 
She told me she didn't want to go, that she wanted die in her own bed with 
her cigarettes by her side. 

I called my boss and told him about Barbara's worsening condition. He 
sympathized with me and told me not to come back to work until I was ready. 

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