My Aunt Bea Nimble,
By Da Porker



As a young lad I recall being somewhat of a loner. Sure, I had a few good
friends to play with, but, instead of playing ball and/or doing the types of
things adolescents do, you know, hanging around buddies, getting into what
ever trouble they can, my idea of fun was being in the company of my Aunt Bea.
Especially in summer. Not having children of her own, it seemed like she cared
for me like I was her own. When my parents would go out for the evening, they
offered to call one of the neighbor girls to watch me, but I would ask if I
could stay with Aunt Bea? Which seemed never a problem for her and her
husband, my Uncle Harry.

Aunt Bea was my father's sister and looked nothing like Aunt Bea from the Andy
Griffith show. My aunt was what I know now I would describe as a real knock
out. She reminded me of a muscular Marilyn Monroe. I can't describe her hair
color because sometimes it was blonde, other times red and sometimes jet
black. All I can say, she always look good. Her hair may have changed allot,
but beautiful facial features and her body remained the envy of, I'm sure,
every male in the neighborhood and every woman would sooner scratch her eyes
out. Her figure looked like that of a world champion athlete. Let's face it,
this is going back to a time way before women worked out and muscular ladies
were in vogue. In retrospect, my aunt had sported some of the most defined
arms I ever saw. She was young and beautiful. The fact that she lived on the
next block, I visited her almost everyday. For some unknown reason, at first,
I had a real attraction to my aunt, later I knew the fascination was her
muscular build. A stature that stood far above the photos I've seen of so
called, the "strong" women of the late forties and early fifties.

She must have received all the good genetics in the family, because my dad and
his five other brothers all had fat bellies and skinny little toothpick type
arms and legs not any better. None were very athletic including my aunt, or so
I thought. Now I know who inspired Mohammed Ali's saying; Float like a
butterfly, sting like a ... ., he must have met my Aunt Bea?!?

My Uncle Harry was this diminutive and unassuming guy both in size and spirit.
On the other hand, Aunt Bea was full of "piss and vinegar". What a wild and
fun lady. Oh, might I add, she was also very aware of her powerful arms and so
was I. Rarely did I observe other parts of her body such as her upper leg
muscularity, due to the fact peddle pushers were the type of pants women wore
those days. But I do recall seeing her well formed calves. But what did I know
then ... I was just a little shit. What did strike me, was when my dad, his
brothers or her husband were around she would tease them by flexing her well
proportioned biceps under their noses and tell them they had little sissy arms
... then she would motion for me to come over to her and feel her massive
arms. I was enthralled by their size and firmness.

She would tell me on numerous occasions, the same thing, I hope when you grow
up, you don't get stuck with your fathers genes ... or women will have you
eating out of her hands. I had no idea what she meant by that. Unfortunately,
I did get my dad's genes and even with working out, my arms look as
threatening as one of those kids you see in "Feed the Children" commercials
... . and today, women with muscular shapes, pretty face or not, have almost
an uncontrollable effect on me. I love their look, their feel and their
superiority. To almost an obsession. But, that's another story.

Anyway, I used to walk over to my aunt's house on a regular basis. I loved
being around her because I DID admired her strong physique. In those days
nobody locked their house doors unless they were going away on an extended
leave, and as I recall, I would just walk right in. Never knock until after a
very embarrassing but awesome incident.

One Saturday afternoon when I visited my aunt, neither she nor my uncle were
in their kitchen where I could always assuredly find them. I heard muffled
groans and banging noises coming from their living room. I called out but
there was no answer.

I followed the curious sounds and as I stood unnoticed in the doorway, I found
myself utterly dumbfounded and totally speechless by what I what I was
witnessing. Bea-hold, not behold, my aunt, who was almost naked, seemed to be
wrestling with my uncle on the living room floor. Apparently neither of my
relatives heard my calls. My aunt had my uncle, who was completely nude, in a
very precarious position. I never saw her thighs before and noticed how solid
and strong they looked as she wrapped them around his midriff, squeezing him
with her ankles locked, (just like I've seen on early TV wrestling shows), and
making my uncle cry. Even though they were equal in height when standing, I
couldn't believe a women was beating up a man? I know my aunt had incredible
muscles, but, this can not be. Uncle Harry was pounding his hands on the floor
with the pain she was administering from the tight hold she was applying as he
tried to scream out for her to stop ... "Stop, you're killing me ... I can't
breathe ... you're breaking my ribs". I could not remain silent any longer, I
thought my aunt was really going to kill my uncle. I shouted out, "what are
you doing to uncle Harry"? With that I startled them so badly, they both
jumped up and looked very embarrassed while they tried to cover up. Remember I
was only about 8 or 9 at the time, I wasn't quite sure what was going on. They
consoled me and said they were only playing "Cops and Robbers". This picture
is still vivid in my mind. After that time they always kept their doors
locked.

Apparently, uncle Harry liked what was happening even though it sounded like
he protested, because the one thing that stood out in the room other than the
fantastic look of my aunts muscular body entwined around my uncle ... was the
size of his hard-on! It's obvious this is a very erotic situation for men to
be in, having a strong and beautiful woman showing her man who's the boss and
he loving every moment of it! I later realized, what a lucky guy my uncle was.
And I thank my aunt for her inspiration and my admiration and appreciation of
very fit ladies. God bless you all.