Healthy Motivation

I consider this a more playful effort than the last few stories - a reworking of something written and posted to a now gone, but fondly remembered web site. As always your comments and emails help inspire me - I want your comments both pro and con. Enjoy!

The characters of this story are fictional and exist only within the confines of the story and my imagination!

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I am not ashamed to say that I'd let my life spiral completely out of control after my wife left me for a goddamn graduate assistant she'd met and opened her legs for while studying to be a grade school teacher. Sherry had been my life since we first met as high school freshman at the big consolidated county high school in our home town in rural Kentucky. She was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen, like a well stacked Sandra Bullock and I was head over in heels in love with her from the day we first sat next to each other in Freshman English. We'd married two weeks after we graduated from high school and for six years, I'd thought we were the happiest couple on Earth.

We'd both been working at a local textile mill that made uniform shirts -- mostly for the military, but for service jobs too. There wasn't much money, but we were happy. Then as the economy began to slide, Sherry decided she wanted to be a teacher and while it was a stretch money-wise, I supported her one hundred percent.

She was in her second year when she met the pretty-boy, some long-haired guitar strumming son of a bitch who worked as a graduate assistant with one of her professors. Before long, she was staying extra hours and it wasn't until I came home from work one Friday night and found most of her shit missing from our trailer that I even had a clue she was fucking someone else. The break-up was ugly, concluding with me making pretty-boy not so pretty when I beat the shit out of him outside the local university's graduate student apartment complex.

I enjoyed whipping his ass, but it cost me eight months in county lockup and when I got out, I was divorced and discovered that my job that my supervisor promised would be waiting for me had moved out of the country along with the rest of the factory. Sherry and her new love had already busted up and she'd moved in with a geology professor. Go figure. And now I can't stand to see a Sandra Bullock movie either.

I've gotten by doing pick up jobs around town and by drinking a lot. Haven't had a whole lot of use for women, but when the need got too great, Greta, the waitress down at the 'Step Right Inn' has been more than willing to oblige. Ain't love -- she's pretty much been willing to oblige anything on two feet with a willing dick. The drinking and smoking and too much time on my hands led me to getting pretty out of shape damn quick.

Before my marriage crashed and burned, I thought I was an okay looking guy. Six feet tall, stocky like my daddy and grandpa before me, but factory work had kept the weight off and the muscles on. Now a year after getting out of jail I was developing quite the beer gut, the trailer looked like a trash dump and my closest relationships were the cans I pulled out of the twelve pack cases of cheap beer I made sure I kept plenty of around the place. Most of my friends and family wrote me off as a lost cause, some blaming Sherry and others saying all I needed was a good, swift kick in the ass. As it turns out, two of my relatives had a different opinion and that's where my story really begins...

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It was one of those cool, dreary days we get here in Eastern Kentucky in late March -- with an on and off drizzle and the promise that real spring will never arrive. I was watching Regis & Kelli with a wicked hangover and only a couple of cans of cheap beer between me and likely death. I was wearing grungy sweats and debating whether I should shower or not before I made my way up the road to the convenience store to re-supply.

I heard a car pull up in front of my trailer and cut off. Next came the slamming of two car doors and I groaned as I realized I was about to have company. It couldn't be good news -- I hadn't had any of that in longer than I could remember.

My hangover kicked into overdrive as someone began pounding on my front door. Then a woman's strident yell added to my misery. "John! John Hill you wake up in there and open this door. Do it right now!"

Somehow I managed to get to my feet and stagger towards the door, wincing as I finally hollered back, "I'm coming, so stop your damn bellowing!" I opened the door, ready to chew someone's ass out for bothering me, but then felt my face go red as I said in a much meeker voice, "Oh...hey Aunt Wanda."

My late daddy's younger sister, Wanda stood there frowning at me. Over her shoulder grinning at me was her daughter, my cousin, Katie. My aunt gave me a disapproving once over and then poked me in the stomach and said, "You forgot your manners, John? Let us in!"

I retreated, allowing them access, a bit embarrassed and preparing to catch hell from my aunt over all the beer cans and bottles and empty pizza boxes lying around. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd ran the vacuum cleaner, but I figured I could probably grow corn in the dust and dirt piling up around me. I walked a little unevenly back to the safe haven of my busted spring couch and sprawled heavily down to wait out a bitching out from family.

Aunt Wanda and Cousin Katie marched in and stood in front of me, hands on hips as they scanned the room. Katie grinned down at me and said, "Hey, Cuz -- Ain't seen you around much lately. You okay?"

Aunt Wanda turned and scowled at her. "Hell no, he's not doing okay. Look at this shithole!" My aunt turned and frowned down at me. In a voice that seemed to be growing louder and more painful by the moment, she barked, "What the hell's wrong with you? Your momma would have a stroke if she saw how bad this place looks. Your dear daddy would drop over dead again if he saw how you've let yourself go!"

Katie covered her mouth with one hand, unable to muffle her amused giggle. I shook my head, immediately regretted it and reached out for the last beer in the house. Before I could crack it open, Wanda snapped, "Boy, you open that damn beer and I'll tear your damn head off!"

I paused and set the can down. Trying to sound as polite as possible, I said in a raw and shaky voice. "What are you here for, Aunt Wanda...besides busting my balls?" Asking the question actually made me think about it. What was my aunt doing here? We'd not talked since she passed on going my bail when I'd beaten the pretty boy up. I raised my bleary eyes to study my aunt and cousin in the rain dimmed light of my living room. What I saw surprised me and made me think maybe I was overdue to visit Greta.

My Aunt Wanda was about forty-six years old and like all my daddy's siblings, had a bit of a stocky build, but on her five foot -- three frame, it looked pretty good. She'd always been an exercise freak -- walking and doing aerobics -- even before Jane Fonda had made them popular. She wore her black hair cut short -- an elfin bob that framed her dark brown eyes and somehow fit her buxom hourglass figure. Wanda was dressed for exercise, wearing spandex shorts that didn't reach her knees -- wrapped tight around her thick, but muscular and toned thighs. She had on a tight sweatshirt that did nothing to conceal the traditional 'Hill Women's' knockers,' large, sloping breasts that sat up on her chest with nipples that pointed at you like a couple of pistols. The cool air had her nipples standing up and saying howdy. Even her white crew socks and running shoes added to her sexy look.

Her daughter, my cousin Katie was very much her equally sexy opposite. Katie was tall and slender -- pushing five foot -- nine inches tall with long, bottle-blonde hair cascading down her back. She had her mother's eyes, but not much else. Small cupcake sized breasts with long pointy nipples rested under a light, white sweatshirt. She had on running shorts that rode high on her thighs and drew attention to her long, coltish, very shapely legs. She'd been on the track team back in high school and now at twenty-three with a two year old girl at home, she still looked like she could run long distance.

Yeah, I was definitely overdue to see Greta if I was admiring my aunt and cousin in a sexual way. I snapped out of my reverie, realizing that Aunt Wanda was yammering at me again. I took a deep breath and interrupted her. "I'm sorry. What is it you want from me again?"

My aunt glared down at me and snarled back, "Mostly, I'm hoping we can get you to pull your head out of your ass!" She leaned over, shaking a finger at me, her heavy breasts visibly rolling under that sweatshirt. "John, look at you -- you've turned into a fat slob. How can you ever hope to find another decent job when you're so out of shape?"

I gave a heavy sigh, aggravated that I was getting my chops busted by my aunt and aggravated that I knew she was right. "Well, there aint no one hiring right now anyway, so who cares?" I responded, sounding a bit childish even to myself.

Aunt Wanda shook her head and said, "Well, you might be wrong there, boy! Your Uncle Carl thinks his mill might be hiring in a few weeks and he can get you on, but not if you can't handle the work!"

That perked my interest. Wanda's husband was a foreman at a local lumber mill and I knew they paid better than most places in the county. My aunt could see the interest in my face and continued, "Katie and I are here to get your fat ass up and exercising so you can get hired on and not die of a heart attack!"

"Exercise, how?" I asked, not liking the sound of that.

"To start with, you can go walking with us, Cuz," Katie chimed in.

"Ummmmm...I don't know," I replied. "Maybe tomorrow if it ain't raining." Aunt Wanda was all about exercise -- doing aerobics and walking miles every day. I had a dim memory of her bragging about walking a minimum of five miles a day at a family get-together back when I was still married. She had different routes that took her all over town and out into the rural areas. Katie had walked with her off and on since before graduating high school.

"Today, John Hill!" Aunt Wanda said in a firm voice. "You get up off that couch and walk with us today and tomorrow and everyday until you get back into shape.

With my head banging a heavy metal number on my brain and the nausea of last night's drinking threatening to send me running to the bathroom, I slowly shook my head and said, "No, not today. Maybe tomorrow." I licked my lips and eyed that last can of beer wistfully.

"Not tomorrow, dammit!" Aunt Wanda shot right back. "We want to help you, but we need you to get your sorry ass off that couch today...NOW!"

I started to argue back, but before I could speak, Katie moved to kneel beside me, bringing one hand to rest on my upper right thigh, mid-way between my knee and crotch. "John...Cuz, we wouldn't be doing this if we didn't love you," she said softly, her eyes imploring me. She squeezed her hand as she said, "Hon' we all care about you. You're family and we're worried about you. Do this, please." Katie moved her hand a little so her fingers draped down my inner thigh. She squeezed again and said, "Please go with us, you won't be sorry you did."

My eyes traveled back and forth between my cousin's pretty blue eyes and her hand on my leg, pausing just long enough between to admire those pointy nipples of hers, poking through her light sweatshirt. I felt a twitch in my crotch and felt heat rising in my face -- a reaction I'd not had for Katie before.

Before I could make a reply, Aunt Wanda crouched down on the other side of me, resting her hand on the opposite leg at about the same place as her daughter. Surprisingly powerful fingers squeezed my fleshy thigh. "John, I know I growl like an old bitch sometimes, but you're my nephew and I love you. Please do this for me." There was a kindness in her eyes and in her voice I'd never sensed before and again, my eyes moved back and forth looking at her gripping my thigh and then at her dark eyes. Then as if drawn to it, my eyes traveled down farther to witness something unexpected.

Aunt Wanda was squatting there, her knees spread apart for balance and inadvertently flashing me an incredible shot of camel-toe, her cunt lips clearly outlined against the tight fitting spandex of her shorts. I felt my cock throb and begin to grow in my sweats. I shifted in my seat, trying to keep it from letting its presence becoming known. At a loss for any other answer, struggling to keep my mind from going places it shouldn't go, I finally nodded and said, "Okay, I'll do it!"

Both my cousin and my aunt rewarded me with huge grins and together they reached down and hauled me off the couch. Moments later, my beat up old sneakers on my feet, I was staggering out the door. The rain had stopped at least for the moment, although the cool air was still thick and humid -- a mildly warm breeze blowing up from the south hinting at the merest possibility of Spring.

We walked down the gravel lane that led to my trailer from the main road, ignoring my old pick-up and my cousin's little blue Buick. Aunt Wanda and Katie walked on either side of me, moving easily along at a mild pace and I was keeping up with them fine, trying to ignore my still painful hangover -- although the fresh air did seem to ease the pounding in my head a little.

Once on the road, we headed north, towards Gil's Market -- the convenience store where I usually picked up beer, maybe a half-mile away. The state had built a bicycle lane on the road years before and we were able to continue to walk three abreast -- Aunt Wanda bringing me up to date on family gossip with occasional comments from Katie. As we approached the market, I was now breathing just a little heavy -- not winded, but clearly not used to the exercise. Already, I was hoping that maybe we'd turn back at the store and call it a day.

I was really disappointed as we turned off the main highway at the Market and began walking down a smaller, older paved road -- Tilman's Road -- that led away from town and into the Kentucky Hills. "So, how far are we going?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was already out of breath.

Katie grinned at me and said, "Not far. Momma and I usually park at Gil's and start from here on our shorter walks. We'll take it easy on you today."

A half mile or so past Gil's I began to grow concerned. There were the occasional house that we passed now, but the woods on either side were growing heavier and as a light rain began to fall, I realized we were beginning to go uphill on what was called Tilman's Grade -- a fairly steep hill that topped out perhaps a mile beyond us. I quickly felt the strain of walking up hill washing over me -- my headache announcing new levels of pain as I sweated the booze from my body.

There was little traffic on Tilman's Grade -- the occasional old truck or car swinging wide of us as we trudged up the asphalt road. The air was thick with moisture, making it harder to breath and despite the coolness of the weather, I was now sweating profusely. I began to slow, allowing my aunt and cousin to take a lead a few feet in front of me.

My growing physical discomfort now found competition for my attention. Even as I was gasping for breath and my leg muscles began to burn with the effort, my eyes were drawn to the two very different but definitely feminine asses wiggling in front of me. I shifted my gaze back and forth as I watched appreciatively the full and rounded ass of my aunt in her tight spandex shorts and the tight, pert heart shaped butt of my cousin.

My cock began to waken again, despite my exhaustion and pain. I never realized how nice Aunt Wanda's ass was -- full and firm or just how Katie's heart shaped butt swung just the right way to make a man's cock want to grow and get hard. I had a sudden yearning to see what my aunt and cousin would look like naked -- to hold and cup their ass cheeks in my hands, wanting to feel each woman's unique flesh.

I had to stagger for a moment as I readjusted my sweats, allowing room for my cock to lengthen along my left thigh. Aunt Wanda looked back at me, a bit amused and called out, "Are you alright, John?"

I nodded and then huffed, "Sure -- how much longer we going on?" We were going around a sharp, banked curve in the road and I could see ahead a long uphill stretch of road leading to the top of Tilman's Grade. It was probably less than a mile, but it seemed to be a world away.

Aunt Wanda grinned and said, "Not too far -- just to the top of the Grade." She turned and resumed her steady march alongside her daughter while I felt the wind falling out of my sails. The top? The fucking top of Tilman's Grade? I felt my erection began to wilt as I began to lose any taste for walking. I tried to figure out how far we'd come -- a half mile from my house to Gil's Store -- maybe a little more than a half mile from there with damn near another mile to go.

I was beginning to gasp for air now, my leg muscles trembling with exhaustion -- burning from lack of oxygen and my hangover maybe in its last gasps, but going out hard. I was quickly losing ground -- now maybe eight or so feet from my cousin and aunt. Their asses looked as good as ever, but I was hurting now and losing heart. "I'd done," I called out. "I can't go another fucking step."

Katie turned and began walking backwards, holding out her arms to me. "C'mon, Cuz, you can do it. We'll be there in no time." Under her light sweatshirt, her small, pert breasts bounced like apples on the tree.

I shook my head as I slowed down. "I'm fucking done -- maybe tomorrow." I stopped, maybe embarrassed and ashamed, but definitely done in as I watched Aunt Wanda and Katie move away.

Aunt Wanda glanced over her shoulder and said something I couldn't make out to her daughter. Katie grinned in response and then without a word, reached down with her hands and pulled her sweatshirt up, exposing her breasts to me, never breaking her backwards stride.

I'm sure my jaw hit the ground and my eyes nearly popped out of my skull as I gazed at my cousin's naked tits. Small, firm and round, like young, ripe melons, capped with two very stiff and long nipples the size of pencil eraser tips. Katie grinned at my stunned reaction and stuck out her tongue at me. "C'mon, John, you can do it. I know you've got it in you. Holding up her sweatshirt with one hand, she reached down and cupped the crotch of her running shorts with the other. "I promise you, Cuz, you want to reach the top of the Grade!"

She continued to show off her young, fine titties, glistening as they became wet in the light rain, until I was again moving -- slowly, but gaining speed, completely unawares that I had again a burgeoning erection in my pants until she puckered her lips and blew me a kiss and then dropping her shirt, spun around and kept walking.

Minutes passed and I was a fucking mess. My body ached in ways I never knew possible, but other parts of me throbbed in anticipation of unexpected pleasure. My mind raced in circles, trying to figure out what was going on. Was this Katie's idea of a joke? Had her mother told her to expose her breasts to me? What would happen when we reached the top of Tilman's Grade?

Closer and closer we marched to the top of the hill until finally, I could see off the road in a stand of trees an old roadside picnic area where in the days before the interstate, travelers could pull over and have a bite to eat and enjoy the scenic view of the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Kentucky. A couple of ancient picnic tables still stood amongst the trees bracketed by two small stone and concrete buildings -- one a public restroom and the opposite one a storage building for the state park service.