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Aunt Maria is quite the looker: proportioned practically perfectly in every way, and with beautiful obsidian hair to boot. When my father’s brother died, my parents invited Aunt Maria to stay with us until she could find an apartment. (F/m-teen, ped, 1st, mast, rom)
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My name’s not particularly relevant to this story, but my Aunt Maria’s is. My father’s brother married her when I was thirteen; he was twelve years younger than my father, and so when he was first married at twenty- two, my father was thirty-four and