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From: writerz01@aol.com
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Subject: Re: Bonnie (Mf, oral; inc, m/g, pedo)
Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2004 22:08:11 -0700
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===================
Nikki,
You wrote a story, rather book titled Watching Book 1. What I read
doesn't seem to be finished. Do you have a completed copy posted or
did you stop without finishing?
LB
"Nikki@P.U." <@> wrote in message news:<4102dbae$1_1@galaxy.uncensored-news.com>...
> Bonnie (Mf, oral; inc, m/g, pedo)
>
> by Penny
>
> Chapter 1
>
> I invited Mark, my cousin, to bring his family out to my summer
> place on Long Island for a weekend. He hesitated, saying he had to
> arrange a sitter for the younger kids. I told him I expected them to
> come, too. I had plenty of room and it would be good to have some
> youngsters making a racket in the place. It was too big and empty for a
> 40-year-old guy who liked kids, and the house and grounds demanded the
> patter of little feet busily raising Hell.
> Let's get one thing straight: I'm not crazy about Mark, who's five
> years older than me. He's okay, and sometimes fun, but he's prone to
> self-pity. Still: He's family. And I remembered more than a few times --
>
> when I was a loner kid -- when Mark went out of his way to pal around
> with me. Now he was on some hard times, I was doing pretty good for
> myself and I figured it was payback time. He'd been essentially solidly
> established and was making good money working for a financial paper --
> until the big crash. His income went from Real Good to Unemployment and
> to Mark, the job was everything. A little fresh salt air and sunshine
> and barbecuing -- not to mention, a change of scene -- would do him
> good.
> Besides which, I genuinely liked Kate, his second wife, and his
> kids -- one by her and two by his first wife. Kate had a wicked deadpan
> sense of humor; always welcome. I'd been a little suspicious of her, at
> first. After all, she'd essentially broken up Mark's (already crumbling)
>
> first marriage and quickly accepted the proposal of a man 14 years her
> senior and from a totally different background. But Kate had Stood By
> Her Man when it hit the fan, and all three kids happily called her
> "Mom." In fact, if Kate weren't married, I could have been looking
> forward to her visit for more than friendly chatter and companionship.
> She was a damn good-looking woman, in the full bloom of femininity, and
> with all the self-assurance and sexiness that comes with it. And she
> still had a helluva fine figure and a great, strong face and --
> But I'm getting ahead of myself.
> Anyhow, about a week before they were going to come out -- for the
> third weekend in August, an excellent time to get the hell out of
> Manhattan -- Mark called me. He was sheepish and uncertain and I finally
>
> wormed it out of him:
> "Well, Kate's kid sister is going to be in New York for a couple of
>
> days, and we hate to leave her alone in the condo..."
> Kid sister? Yeah, I was beginning to remember -- and then it all
> came back in a flash, from the wedding. Kate's kid -- but not "little"
> -- sister, one Miss Irene Marie Pound.
> YES!
> "Well, there's plenty of room, Mark -- bring her along." I tried
> not to drool on the phone, all the time figuring: Irene was six years
> younger than Kate, which would make her about 24 or 25 now and she had
> been an absolute knockout at the wedding at which time she'd been no
> more than 15. Yes, I had done a good job of burying that memory; every
> time I'd looked at her, I'd had an instant physical reaction and had
> been growling to myself, "Jailbait -- Down, boy!"
> "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?" he whined.
> And I was thinking: If it is, you and your clan sleep in the pool,
> but she is *definitely* invited.
> "No, no problem. Let her tag along."
> In fact, I suggested they come out on Thursday night and plan on
> returning Monday evening. A nice, long weekend.
> I hung up and found I had the same physical reaction to the thought
>
> of Irene. I told myself she'd probably not handled the ensuing years
> well. Most women who are stunning at 15 are, er, somewhat less than
> appealing 10 years later -- as if they've burned out all the `beautiful'
>
> assigned to them much too early. Or she was still stunning, but was
> going to take one look at a 40-year-old guy and immediately begin
> ignoring him, when possible. Or had gone dyke. Or turned nasty. Or was
> embittered.
> None of it worked. At 40, I had to take the time to jerk off before
>
> I could concentrate on anything.
> It didn't help.
>
> Chapter Two
>
> I heard Mark's car crunching on the gravel around 4:30 on Thursday
> afternoon. The sun was still high and strong and I was out by the pool
> with a cold beer and the latest Spenser novel. I almost wished they'd
> been stuck in traffic; I hate being interrupted while reading Parker.
> I trundled myself out of the chaise lounge and wandered across the
> semi-landscaped yard to meet them. I've got three acres, but only one
> was cleared. The house sits in the middle of that. Most of the property
> is as it was before cars were discovered. The local wildlife also knew
> it was a safe place. A couple of huge hares were standing on their hind
> legs to see who the intruders were.
> The little circular driveway is surrounded by brush, so I heard the
>
> car doors opening and closing long before I saw the first signs of their
>
> arrival -- in this case, Dolores, the 15-year-old. She was carrying a
> duffel bag and one of those pouches that holds cassette tapes.
> "Hi, Uncle Dan!" She was still very pretty, with a mischievous
> smile that brightened dark rooms. All long legs and auburn hair...she
> was going to be a beauty. She was showing that first glow of blossoming
> into womanhood, and there were some outstanding secondary sexual
> characteristics asserting themselves under her NKOTB tee-shirt. She'd
> inherited her Puerto Rican mother's complexion and smile; she got her
> blue eyes and hair color from Mark.
> "Hi, Dolores! Glad to see you! Need a hand?"
> She giggled. "No -- but Mom does."
> "What do you mean?"
> More giggles. "You'll see! Where should I put these?"
> "Just drop 'em in one of the bedrooms downstairs. Your choice."
> I stepped through the brush into the little clearing that is my one
>
> and only concession to cars on the property. Parked next to my van was
> Mark's Subaru.
> "Hey, Mark, Kate, Penny."
> All waved and grinned abashedly and I soon saw why. Kate's seat-
> belt clasp was stuck and she and Mark were trying to free it. Which
> reminded me: Between the two of them, danger lurked in every mechanical
> device. Penny was sitting stolidly in the backseat, biting her lower lip
>
> and trying not to laugh as she watched the fun.
> When I saw the cause of the problem, I did bark out a quick laugh,
> which I immediately tried to cover by clearing my throat. Somehow, Kate
> had managed to buckle the snap with a piece of her pretty, lightweight
> printed summery dress caught in it. Naturally, the first time she'd
> moved more than a few inches, it had ripped a sizable portion of the
> dress, exposing a sizable portion of her torso.
> "Don't you dare laugh, Daniel," she warned, eyes bright with mirth.
>
> "This is serious business."
> "I can see that."
> Penny coughed. She was going to lose it in a moment.
> "Did you say something, honey?" Mark asked. He was kneeling on the
> driver's seat, bent over the imprisoning buckle. He raised his head to
> look at Penny and, of course, banged said head on the roof of the car.
> "Say, Mark -- why don't you go down to the basement and get my red
> toolbox so we can free the prisoner of fender here."
> Rubbing his head, he nodded and said, "Good idea, and, oh, yeah,
> great to see you." He started to offer his left hand -- he was rubbing
> his head with his right -- realized his malaprop, switched hands and in
> the process smacked himself in the eye. Same old Mark.
> We managed to wait till he was a decent distance away before
> breaking into muffled guffaws.
> "'Prisoner of fender'?" Kate repeated. "I'll get you for that!"
> Penny scrambled out and around. "Want to take a crack at this?" I
> asked.
> She looked at me with that look only a kid can give an adult. "Are
> you kidding? I've got both their genes. I'd probably blow up the car."
> "Watch your mouth, young lady!" Kate barked, but there was no bite
> in it.
> "It's more fun watching this," she replied.
> "Want a kid?" Kate asked me.
> "How much will you pay me?"
> "I don't know. What's hamburger going for these days?"
> I was working at the buckle, very much aware how close my hands
> were to Kate's rather abundant breasts, which were straining at the
> flimsy bra exposed by the injured dress. Their finances may have gone to
>
> hell in a handcart, but her figure was better than ever.
> "Got it," I announced, feeling the little snick of the release.
> "Praise be!" Kate said, grabbing the strap.
> "Wait! Don't -- "
> Too late. She was so eager to be freed of her bondage that when she
>
> ripped the strap off, she also ripped away most of the top of her dress.
>
> "At least you made it out alive," Penny offered cheerfully. She was
>
> taking bags out of the back seat.
> Kate looked down at herself as she stood. "Damn." Then she shrugged
>
> and rolled the torn material around her waist. "Oh, well, I suppose it
> actually covers more than my swimsuit."
> "Oh?"
> Mark called from the house. "Hey, Dan -- I can't find any red
> toolbox!"
> I didn't tell him there wasn't any red toolbox.
> "It's okay, Dad -- she's sprung!"
> Kate gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for having us."
> "My pleasure, babe. I like being surrounded by women who run around
>
> in their underwear." I grabbed a couple of the bags and noticed, for the
>
> first time, that Penny had been growing since the last time I saw her.
> She had become more than a pretty little girl; she was a beautiful,
> budding adolescent. Her slightly curly hair was the color of gold, and
> she wore it shoulder-long. Her eyes were a pale blue. Her complexion was
>
> fair, but too warm to be pale. And she'd inherited the best of the bone
> structures of her mom and dad, which was saying a lot. She was going to
> be an absolute knockout when she grew up.
> Mark came out to help with the bags and stared at his wife's bra-
> encased tits. I hung back with him as she and Penny preceded us toward
> the house. He was staring at his wife's sleek back and the firm, rounded
>
> twitching of her ass in the remains of the dress. He was shaking his
> head.
> "Don't worry about the dress, Mark. It happens."
> "Oh, not that. It's just that every time I look at her, it's like
> the first time. She just gets more and more beautiful. I am one lucky
> sonuvabitch."
> "Amen to that." We started toward the house. "Where's Bonita?"
> "She's waiting in the apartment for Irene. Keep her company on the
> way out. They're taking the Long Island Railroad. Should get here around
>
> nine-thirty. They'll probably be yakking all the way."
> "They keep in touch, eh?"
> "And how. Every time Irene gets a flight assignment in the
> Northeast, she calls and they gab."
> "Flight assignment?"
> "Oh, yeah -- Irene's a flight attendant."
> We climbed the five wooden steps to the side door. Dolores was
> walking around the living room, investigating my collection of books and
>
> tapes in the alcove next the fireplace. She was wearing a swimsuit under
>
> her tee-shirt, now, and her long legs flashed and tensed as she shifted
> and bent. The bottom of the suit didn't cover much of her ripe little
> ass. I cautioned myself not to respond to the sight, but did anyhow, of
> course. I settled for reminding myself to behave.
> "Where do you want to bunk us?"
> "I gave the girls first choice of the bedrooms down here. You guys
> get the one on the left, upstairs."
> I heard the bathroom door open and turned to find Kate striding
> toward us. She had put on her swimsuit and pulled a pair of denim shorts
>
> on over the bottoms. I knew she was wearing the bottoms because the
> outline was visible under the very tight shorts. And she'd been right --
>
> the bra hid more than the white Lurex top.
> Mark's breathing had shortened. "Hey, honey, help me put these
> upstairs?"
> She looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Sure." She
> took one minuscule makeup bag from her husband and sashayed past us. We
> both stared for a moment before Mark began to follow, his eyes fixed on
> his wife's gorgeous butt.
> "Mark?"
> He shook himself and looked at me.
> "Be sure the door is closed. Noise and all that."
> He grinned and blushed like a school-kid. I'd stayed with them once
>
> when they were first married. At first I'd thought there was a
> malfunctioning air-raid siren nearby. Kate was a screamer.
> I deposited the other bags right there in the living room; they
> could sort them out. Then I noticed Dolores. The ceiling of the main
> floor goes all the way to the roof for half its width and Dolores was
> watching her mesmerized father follow her sashaying mother across the
> balcony to the bedroom.
> Penny came out of the bedroom and saw Dolores looking up. "Where's
> Mom and Dad?"
> I heard the bedroom door close. Dolores just nodded toward the
> balcony.
> "Oh, jeez," Penny said. "Everybody into the shelter!" She put her
> fingers into her ears and headed for the sliding screen doors to the
> rear deck and the backyard beyond, lean legs scissoring beneath the
> thigh-length jumbo tee-shirt.
> Dolores followed at a more leisurely pace. She was shaking her
> head.
> "What's the matter?"
> "I never knew old folks could get it on so much. None of my
> friends' parents do it so much or so loud."
> I stepped onto the deck and closed the screen door behind us. "Your
>
> folks are very much in love."
> "And lust."
> I laughed. "That, too."
> "Gives me hope for my old age," she said and grinned.
> "Old age? Hey, your dad's only a few years older than I am." I was
> trying to kid her.
> "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're single and do
> stuff. You're -- well, you're not like a parent."
> "Not that I know of."
> We stepped off the deck onto the cool grass and headed toward the
> pool.
> "Is it okay if we swim?"
> I looked out at the yard, where Penny was investigating the bird
> feeder. "You have to," I said. "Unless the pool gets churned up, it
> solidifies. Can't have that."
> "Uh-uh. Can't let that happen." She walked a little bit ahead of me
>
> and slowly peeled her tee-shirt up. The blue lurex or spandex bottom
> covered maybe two-thirds of her butt. Hard, creamy ass flesh clenched
> and twitched in front of me for the next three or four steps, during
> which she completed the de-tee-shirting. Her hips were slightly flared,
> her waist was taut and the top of her suit was no more than a narrow
> band of very tightly stretched blue across her shoulder blades. She
> shook her chestnut hair back and suddenly turned to face me.
> "Hold my shirt for me?" She thrust it at me.
> "Uh...sure."
> She smiled again, this time slyly. "How do you like my suit?" She
> slowly turned this way and that. Yes, her secondary sexual
> characteristics were superbly developed. About a handful (and I've got
> big hands), they were firm and jutting, even within the not-quite
> confines of the stretch top.
> Which is to say: She had great tits.
> "There's not much to like," I said. "And I like it."
> Just then we could hear the first distant wailing from the house.
> It went louder and higher and then there was a shriek -- and the wailing
>
> resumed.
> Dolores's eyes were half-closed and her nipples were hardening. She
>
> shook her self, turned and jogged toward the pool. A moment later, I
> heard the splash. I strode slowly ahead, the tee-shirt in my hand. Penny
>
> awaited me at the gate.
> "She's gotten to be such a flirt."
> I looked down at her, found her looking up at me, beautiful face
> expressionless and utterly devoid of guile. The top of her head was
> barely even with the bottom of my ribcage. We stepped inside the
> fencing. Dolores's splashing pretty well covered the screams from the
> house.
> "Most pretty girls flirt," I said. "It's usually a phase."
> "I know. It starts when they take first deliveries on the flirting
> equipment." She picoted, watching her sister. "She's already had some
> re-orders delivered."
> I went to my chaise lounge and sat. She followed and stood beside
> me, still watching her sister. Dolores seemed to be trying to swim the
> length of the pool underwater on a single breath. She was almost making
> it.
> "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"
> "A little." She pulled the big tee-shirt off and stood in her own
> two-piece, which was considerably less flashy and more modest than her
> sister's. "But I'm only eleven." She smiled brightly. "I think I'll do
> okay. What do you think?"
> Eleven? She had tits 14-year-olds would kill for. Penny was an
> early bloomer. Her legs were still a bit skinny and she had no hips, but
>
> her breasts were already forming nicely and proudly, and her little
> peach of an ass was something I could have cheerfully take a big bite
> out of -- if there was any skin that wasn't taut as a rubber ball.
> "Yeah, you'll do okay. Go swim."
> "Sure!" She whirled, whooped and leaped.
> Had she glanced at my crotch, quickest of snatched glimpses, just
> before turning? I wasn't sure, but I was glad I was wearing a jockstrap
> and swimsuit under my shorts -- or else there'd have been no concealing
> the hard-on there.
> I grabbed the remains of my now-warm and flat beer and drained it.
> This was going to be one helluva trying weekend -- and Bonita and Irene
> hadn't even shown up yet!
>
> Chapter Three
>
> I left Penny watching Dolores's indefatigable swimming while I went
>
> to the house for another beer and to get dinner under way. I started the
>
> charcoal burning and laid out a couple of steaks and washed some
> potatoes. While I was preparing the salad, Mark and Kate came downstairs
>
> (a bit wobbly in the knees, if you ask me). Kate was glowing and Mark
> looked content...for the time being.
> "You guys get everything put where it belongs?"
> Kate laughed easily and Mark grinned beneath his blush. He was
> wearing an incredibly, wonderfully tacky Hawaiian shirt and oversized
> shorts. Kate was wearing her little white lurex two piece with a
> matching wrap around the bottom. When she walked, her hips rolled. Her
> nipples were round, dark blotches inside the white top, which was
> stretched to bursting by her tits. Between her and the two flirting
> kids, I was going to be spending a lot of time choking the chicken this
> weekend, unless something wonderful happened with Irene.
> "Anything we can do help?" Kate asked as I chopped lettuce.
> I stared at her. "After that business with the seat belt? You could
>
> injure some valuable real estate. But I'd feel more at ease if you'd go
> keep an eyes on those two marathon swimmers."
> Kate smiled warmly and winked at Mark, than glided out the door.
> She took off the wrap as she walked and that gorgeous, womanly ass was
> demonstrating many wonderful advantages of sheer, white lurex.
> "She's a lot of woman, cousin."
> Mark nodded. "Maybe too much."
> "Huh?"
> "Listen, I should be pretty safe wrapping the potatoes in foil,
> right?"
> I nodded. As he mangled the aluminum foil, I said, "What did you
> mean -- `Maybe too much'?"
> "Shit, Dan, I'm almost 45. She's 30, just entering her sexual
> prime. She's almost insatiable."
> "Looks sated to me. Could almost hear her slosh." I went to work on
>
> the radishes.
> "She just turns me on so much, I always kind of rise to the
> occasion. How's this?" He held up the first successfully captured
> potato. It was a pretty miserable job of wrapping.
> "Terrific. Listen -- As long as she's happy, what're you worrying
> about?"
> "Can I be blunt?"
> "Hell, you can be the Easter Bunny. Shoot."
> "Sometimes I think that no matter how much she cums, she's a little
>
> disappointed when I stop."
> "Are you bullshitting me?"
> He shook his head somberly while he struggled to wrap another
> elusive potato.
> "Mark, you two were in the bedroom for 45 minutes. For two-thirds
> of that time, she was screaming. The look on her face and the way she
> was walking just now...That is one satisfied woman."
> "I wonder... "
> "Have you asked her about this?"
> "Sure. She says I'm all the man she could ever wish for, that it's
> beautiful and ecstatic...the standard line."
> I stabbed a green pepper. "Standard line? Are you nuts? Are you
> trying to imply that Kate -- *Kate* -- would hide something?"
> "Well, yes -- so she wouldn't hurt my feelings. I think she wants
> more than I can give her."
> "Evidence?"
> "Evi--? Oh." He deposited another pathetically wrapped potato and
> began assaulting a third. "Well, I was watching a porno tape. She
> usually doesn't bother with them -- says they're not romantic -- but she
>
> was walking through, during this one scene where a guy with a huge cock
> was giving a woman the business. Guy's dick must have been a foot long
> and thick as a sausage. Well, she stopped walking and that, she watched.
>
> Never took her eyes off the screen. And it turned her on so much, I
> thought I was going to need a mop."
> I laughed. "Hey, man, I've seen you in the shower. You've got
> nothing to worry about."
> "Dan, this guy had more soft than I have hard. Huge -- the way her
> nipples got when she was watching him."
> "Lot's of women fantasize about fucking a horse-cock, but most of
> them don't care for it unless it's attached to someone they really
> like."
> "So I've read. So I've been told."
> I went to work on a pair of perfect red peppers. "Why don't you
> believe it?"
> He took a deep breath. "Well, after that film I thought maybe she
> was wishing for more. So I went out and bought something. A marital
> aid."
> "A what?"
> "You know..."
> "A dildo?"
> "Yeah." A kind of cough, under his breath.
> "A great big one."
> "Yeah."
> "As big as the guy in the movie."
> Another cough. I went to work on the carrots.
> "And?"
> "And, well, uh, one night when I ran out of gas, I got it out and
> lubed it up and started using it on her." He stopped wrapping and stared
>
> at me. "Mark, she came for almost another hour."
> "Nonstop?"
> He nodded. "My arms gave out before she did. She took that fucking
> thing inside to the hilt. I could see her tummy bulge when it was in. I
> did it hard, I did it easy, fast, slow, straight, circles. Didn't
> matter. By the time she was done, I was hard again. I rode her for
> another 15 minutes and she kept cumming. Used the dildo again for about
> a half-hour. She finally passed out with the dildo inside her. She was
> still cumming."
> I emitted a low whistle.
> "She came for more than two hours without a pause and was still
> cumming when she passed out," he repeated. "I think I've got a
> situation, here."
> "All in your head, Mark." Carrots done, I went to work on a
> cucumber, peeling the skin.
> "I think she wants more than just me."
> "Even though she said the opposite."
> "And I think she's going to go trolling."
> "Now, Mark -- "
> "And I think she'd like you."
> "WHAT?"
> "And I want you to go ahead -- "
> I spun on him, cucumber poised for attack. "Forget it! Out of the
> question!"
> "Dan, she's going to go after somebody, sooner or later. She likes
> you -- and I trust you. I know you'd never try to take her away from me,
>
> so I'd be grateful if you helped me keep her happy."
> "Sort of keep it in the family, huh?"
> "Yeah."
> "No fucking way. End of discussion."
> "But -- "
> "Mark, don't piss me off. I envy you Kate in your bed, I lust after
>
> her, but I am not -- repeat, not -- going to fuck your wife."
> "What if she asked?"
> "Same response."
> His shoulders slumped and I returned to the cucumber. I realized
> that he'd actually convinced himself that he wanted this -- to have me
> fuck his horny wife.
> A few more silent minutes of devastating the potatoes and preparing
>
> the salad, and I said, "Better go get those water babies in here to
> change. We'll be ready to eat in a half hour."
> "Sure." Dejected. He went out and summoned them. The two girls
> scampered in, with Kate languidly bringing up the rear (so to speak).
> "Mosquitoes out there," she announced.
> "No kidding." I handed her the salad bowl. "In the fridge, please?"
> She smiled brightly and bent at the waist before the opened
> refrigerator. Her ass was a caution, outthrust like that.
> Broing! Boner time.
> "There're some bug whackers out there. Would you guys turn'em on
> for me? Just turn the switch till the nasty blue glow starts and watch
> the fun. And toss those taters down into the coals, please."
> "I'll do it," Mark said. To Kate: "You're still damp."
> From what he'd told me, she was always damp. He went out into the
> yard and began making the rounds in twilight.
> "Kate, I've got to tell you something."
> "Mmmmm?"
> "Dolores is turning me on. She's working at it, but she doesn't
> have to."
> She made a face. "So now she's picking on you. Mark had the same
> reaction and I told her it wasn't nice to go around teasing her dad."
> "Or her Uncle Dan."
> "I'll talk to her about it."
> "Please. I don't want to be tempted by a kid. Get a couple of more
> brewskis in me and I might convince myself that she wants to do more
> than tease."
> Kate chuckled. "She probably does. She really likes you, you know."
> "She's 15. She's just a kid."
> "Oh, she's grown up enough in some ways."
> "Not between the ears, she's not. And how's Irene looking?"
> "She's grown up enough, in all the ways. When I grow up, I want to
> look like Irene. Looking forward to her arrival?" She stared pointedly
> at my crotch.
> "As if you and Lolita weren't enough to raise the flagpole."
> "Why, thank you for the flattery!" She smiled. Dimples. Hadn't
> noticed those before.
> "It's truth."
> "Well, if you're already salivating, wait'll Bonita gets here."
> "Oh? She's -- what? Nineteen?"
> "You haven't seen her in a while, have you?"
> "No. Last couple of times, she's been away at school." Bonita was a
>
> sophomore at Smith, on a scholarship. She'd spent her previous summer in
>
> Italy, visiting ruins (presumably). This summer she was interning at the
>
> Metropolitan Museum of Art. She was an Art History major.
> "Bonita is gorgeous and hot and -- remember young Raquel Welch?"
> "Who could forget?"
> "Okay -- better. Sexier."
> I whistled. "Maybe we better get some sheep in here before they
> arrive. I'm going to be drooling over a 19-year-old. If Irene shows
> signs of receptivity, warn her that I'm going to be, er, prominently
> energetic."
> "The prominence is already evident." She glanced at my crotch.
> "Cripes."
> Dolores and Penny came out, wearing loose shorts and oversized
> shirts and thongs. Penny looked cute. Since Dolores's shirt was
> sufficiently oversized for her braless tits to bobble enticingly, she
> was again an ad for jailbait sex.
> "Kate -- Lolita?" I whispered.
> "Right. Dolores, will you help me with something, please?" Kate
> strode toward the stairway to the upstairs bedroom, her daughter in tow.
>
> Mark returned. "Mosquito heaven out there."
> "We can't eat outside?" Penny asked.
> "In a little while. Your dad has successfully engaged the nuclear-
> powered bug zappers. I will fire up the citronella blasters and in a
> brief time, the backyard will be safe for visiting humans."
> "I'm still putting on jeans and a long sleeve," said Mark.
> "Bug repellent's in the utility closet next to the bathroom down
> here."
> Penny looked up at the closed bedroom door. "You told Mom about
> Dolores, right?"
> "Right."
> Penny looked at me, now. Her gaze was disconcertingly calm. "She
> really wants to do it with you, y'know."
> "If she feels the same way in five years, I'll be delighted."
> "I'm serious."
> I was busy working a garlic clove around the steaks. I stopped and
> met her stare. "She told you?"
> Penny nodded. "She's not a virgin, either. Hasn't been for a year.
> Why not?"
> "She's too young -- "
> "She's big enough."
> "And she's not big enough."
> "You liked her body."
> "Yes, but she's not big enough. In there."
> "She's had -- "
> "Believe me, Penny. She's not."
> "But -- "
> I reached into the vegetable bin and handed her a large cucumber.
> "No, she's not."
> Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. A little "Oh!" came out.
> I took back the vegetable and replaced it. "Put the plates out on
> the picnic table for me? They're in that cupboard." I nodded and resumed
>
> preparing the steaks. "How do you like yours?"
> "Big and -- uh, medium." She was blushing. She took a very long
> time to put the plates on the table. In the interim, Dolores and Kate
> came back downstairs. Both were dressed for outdoor dining, i.e., jeans
> and long-sleeved dark blouses. Dolores looked abashed. Kate was keeping
> her lovely lips pursed in a straight line, holding back a smile.
> "Dolores?" I called.
> "What?" she snapped. Then: "Sorry."
> "It's okay."
> Kate was stifling a laugh.
> "Would you help set the table, please? Silverware and glasses." I
> nodded toward the appropriate cupboard and drawers.
> When she was outside, Kate said, "She really wants to do it with
> you."
> "If she feels the same way in five years, I'll be delighted."
> "I'm serious."
> I was cutting the steaks into New York strips. I stopped and turned
>
> to her, with an intense feeling of deja vu. "She told you?"
> "She's not a virgin, either. Hasn't been for a year."
> "She told you?" This is a recording -- a recording -- a
> recording...
> "Sure. We have a good relationship."
> "And what do you think of this desire?"
> "I guess every young woman has a phase when she gets the hots for
> an older, male relative. Especially a good-looking one who has a
> romantic lifestyle."
> "Oh, yeah. real romantic. Cooped up ten hours a day in front of a
> CRT, trying to turn obscure bits of fact into a coherent story. Dragging
>
> around the SEC or libraries. Hanging out for hours in some waiting room
> while the guy who won't return my calls ducks down the service elevator.
>
> About as romantic as driving a cab."
> "She just sees the byline on a New York Magazine cover or a book in
>
> the stores. She remembers the name on the Times list or a Tonight Show
> bit -- she taped it, you know." Kate smiled. "Yes -- romantic. Handsome.
>
> Single."
> "You still haven't told me what you think of this."
> She took a deep breath. I was glad she was dressed. "Well, if she's
>
> going to get it on with an older male, I think I'd prefer it be you. I
> know you, I like you and I trust you with her emotions."
> "She's too young -- "
> "She's mature enough."
> "And she's not big enough."
> "She turned you on."
> "Very much." I was about to say "But she's not big enough, in
> there" and do the cucumber routine again -- but then I remembered what
> Mark had told me. No, that was not the approach to take in this case. I
> just said, "I don't think it would be a great idea, Kate, and I'd prefer
>
> that it be discouraged."
> She nodded thoughtfully. "And that's one of the reasons why I'd
> trust you with her. Thank you."
> "Think nothing of it. Let's go grill some steaks."
> By the time the salad was dispensed, the steaks were done and it
> was full dark. I switched on some of the low-wattage electric lanterns
> so we could see what we were eating. The night was filled with stars,
> the steaks were juicy, the potatoes sizzling, the salad crunchy, the
> beer was cold, good company abounded -- heaven. We topped it off with
> the traditional toasted marshmallows (for the "kids," which included
> Kate) and some coffee cake for Mark and me. His spirits, which had been
> good during the meal, were sinking again. While Kate and the "kids" went
>
> into the house to play Scrabble, he started talking about looking for
> work. There were hints of the recession ending, but --
> "In my field, you work for a loser, you're marked as a loser."
> He went downhill from there. Through three more beers, he got
> progressively more morose. And less coherent. Never could hold his
> booze.
> The womenfolk came out to help clear the table. Kate looked at
> Mark, sitting stuporous across from me, and rolled her eyes. I gave her
> a little shake of my head.
> "It's almost nine," she said. "Their train comes in at nine
> thirty." The two girls helped me clear the table while Kate helped Mark
> clear the doorway and the Alpine climb to the bedroom.
> "Gonna be quiet tonight," Penny said.
> "For a change," Dolores said.
> We were carrying our loads into the kitchen. "Who won the game?" I
> was trying to change the subject.
> "The shrimp."
> "Oh?" Penny was sticking her tongue out at Dolores.
> "Yep. Turned 'or' into 'fornicate.'"
> I stopped in my tracks and stared as they went to the counter.
> Penny glanced back at me and grinned impishly. "I read a lot," she said.
> I got the dishes loaded into the dishwasher machine, fueled it with
>
> soap and started the Infernal Machine. It always sounds more like a
> trash compactor, but it definitely does the dirty work. "I'm going to
> the station, now. There's cable on the TV in your room."
> Dolores made a face. "TV. Yuck."
> "Can I come with you?" Penny asked.
> "He doesn't want you going with him, you dope. He's going to be
> picking up Irene."
> "Who's a dope? Bonnie's going to be there, anyhow. Besides, how's
> he going to know who they are?"
> "Good point," I said. "Okay."
> "I'm coming, too, then," Dolores said. Penny flashed her a
> murderous look. Dolores glared back. What the hell as going on?
> "Keep that up and you ride in the trunk. Go brush teeth and be out
> here in five minutes, ready to move out."
> I took the time to wash my face and change. Wanted to look good for
>
> Irene, heh-heh. Stripped off the shorts, swimsuit and jock, pulled on a
> pair of old Levi's and a clean shirt that emphasized my shoulders.
> Sneakers, no socks. The casual, self-assured, successful writer look.
> Irresistible, I hoped. Prayed.
> Some night creatures scattered into the bushes as we walked out to
> the driveway and somewhere over the Bay, on the other side of the road,
> an owl was hoo-hoo-hooooting. Penny was gawking at the stars.
> I got into the van and asked her, "Coming?"
> "I never saw this many stars anywhere but at the Planetarium." She
> was awestruck. I liked that, a lot.
> Dolores scrambled into the back passenger-side seat -- the van has
> four buckets -- and buckled herself in while Penny did the same in the
> front. We pulled out of the driveway and started through dark, twisty
> Eastern Long Island roads. No street lights and only two stoplights for
> the six miles to the station. At the first stop sign, I glanced into the
>
> rearview and saw what Dolores was doing to herself for my benefit.
>
> Chapter Four
>
> Dolores was slumped down in her seat, her legs wide. She had pulled
>
> the very loose leg opening wider and high up on her thigh. She was
> pantyless. I know -- I could see her fingering her pussy through the
> leghole. And she was watching my eyes in the rearview.
> All in a flash, you should excuse the expression.
> I picked up speed from the intersection and pushed the limit a
> little. Like it or not, I was getting a tremendous hard on, and since I
> was bare under the Levis, it was going to be very, very apparent. I
> hoped we didn't get caught at either stoplight.
> Of course the first was bright red.
> I glanced in the rearview. Dolores's eyes were half-closed. She was
>
> pinching her nipples through her tee-shirt with one hand. The other was
> still between her legs. She had one finger inside her cunt and another
> was working on her clit, just rubbing back and forth in little circles.
> Penny was chattering about how quiet it was out here.
> "Yeah," I said. "Quiet. Real quiet."
> "Don't you think it's nice out here, Dolores?"
> "Wonnerful," Dolores mumbled.
> The light changed just as Penny was about to turn to her sister. I
> floored it. The acceleration kept Penny facing forward -- the same
> direction as my dick, now aching and trapped in my jeans.
> We barely made the other stoplight on the yellow, just as Dolores
> was stiffening and shaking in the back seat. She was biting her lower
> lip and shivering with her orgasm. Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled
>
> at me and licked her lips.
> We turned into the well-lit parking lot for the little LIRR station
>
> as Dolores sat up straight and tugged her clothes into place. Then she
> licked the fingers that had been working between her legs, taking extra
> time to suck the one that had been inside her. Staring at me in the
> rearview.
> I put the van in park and asked Penny to go check the bulletin
> board on the door of the station, to be sure of the schedule. She
> complied willingly, scampering to the tiny ticket office, which was
> closed.
> "I want to do it with you," Dolores said. "Penny said you won't,
> because you think I'm too young. She said you think I'm not big enough,
> that your dick is too big. Lots of boys say that and -- "
> "Forget it. And don't pull this on me again." I was half-turned
> toward her, trying to sound tough and glare at here. All I could see was
>
> the memory-image of her tensed and cumming.
> "I tried to use a cucumber and it didn't fit," she continued. "But
> that was when I was twelve. And I don't think you're that big."
> She leaned forward suddenly and put her hand on my crotch. The move
>
> was so unexpected and quick that I didn't catch her in time. Her small
> hand came right down on my hard cock. I grabbed her wrist and she
> grabbed my dick. I heard her little gasp of surprise and her fingers
> relaxed -- after one quick, jerking squeeze that was almost enough to
> make me cum.
> She sat back in her bucket seat. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hung
>
> open and her nipples were spikes under her tee-shirt. She had her hands
> between her legs and she was twisting them, rubbing herself through her
> shorts. "Please, let me do it, let me do it..."
> She shook again. When she calmed, her eyes focused on me and she
> said, very clearly: "I'm going to have you before we go back to the
> city."
> The distant warning hoot of the diesel sounded. Penny came running
> back to the van. "The train is coming!"
> I smiled. "I'll be right out. Dolores, go wait with your sister."
> She just smiled and got out of the van, somehow making it
> provocative.
> I sat there a moment, pondering. She was sexy as hell and obviously
>
> knew what she was doing. What would be the harm? For one thing, I
> reminded myself, it was illegal. And thinking of what happened in prison
>
> to men convicted of rape -- even statutory -- of young girls, my boner
> began to shrivel. Unfortunately, my balls were starting to hurt.
> I groaned and got out of the van. I stood next to the girls as the
> train rumbled and whined to a stop. There were a few other people there,
>
> waiting to meet the arrivals. Among the greeters were a trio of teenaged
>
> boys who were meticulously studying Dolores and Penny.
> There was no problem recognizing Bonita and Irene. They were the
> two knockouts. Irene had grown up even lovelier than I'd remembered. And
>
> Kate hadn't been lying when she'd described Bonita.
> "Hi, hi, hello -- it's great to see you," I said quickly. Irene
> brightened the night with a glorious smile and Bonita grinned.
> "Hi, uncle Dan!" She gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
> Broing!
> I covered by quickly taking both their bags. "Come on, let's get
> back to the house and unwind."
> Penny and Dolores chattered happily with the two women as I stowed
> the bags. Penny volunteered to take one of the swivel buckets in the
> back of the van so she could look out the rear window. I put Dolores
> behind me and Bonita next to her, figuring her sister's proximity would
> keep the little vixen in check.
> Which, of course, meant Irene sat next to me. Sheer chance, of
> course.
> Broing!
> Bonita and Irene wore similar outfits -- old jeans and long-sleeved
>
> man-tailored flannel shirts against the cool eastern Long Island night.
> The shirts were tucked into the waists of the jeans, and man-tailored or
>
> not, they were well-filled. I glanced at Irene as I made a right,
> turning out of the parking lot. In profile, she was awesome. The fine,
> straight nose, the long lashes, the soft lips, the sandy hair pulled
> back in a ponytail -- gorgeous. And the thrust of those proud breasts
> against the shirt was enough to make a groan man cry.
> We exchanged miscellaneous pleasantries during the drive back.
> Irene was on a week-long break. She'd been on the London-Orlando run for
>
> five weeks and was due for reassignment. She was hoping for New York-
> Madrid. She'd read my last piece -- the Times magazine one about New
> York City's huge stock of empty, structurally sound housing left empty
> while poor folks slept in the streets -- and liked it a lot.
> Bonita and Dolores were thick as thieves behind us, whispering with
>
> great animation. For some reason, that made me very nervous. As we
> pulled into the drive, both giggled and I caught Bonita staring at me as
>
> if making some judgment.
> When we got to the house, everybody was so busy with greetings that
>
> only Dolores -- and, possibly, Penny -- noted the guy with the flagpole
> in his pants. Dolores made a point of making me aware of her stare.
> The others descended on the cold buffet Kate had assembled as I
> headed immediately into the bedroom to deposit the new arrivals' bags,
> then high-tailed it upstairs to my bedroom. I stripped, groaning at the
> relief of having my cock freed for a few minutes, and stepped quickly
> into my bathroom. I could hear an occasional lurch of group laughter
> from the main room downstairs. A cold, soaked wash cloth diminished my
> ardor to manageable levels. I pulled on a jock and my swimsuit, then
> ducked into a tee-shirt and padded downstairs barefoot.
> Bonita and Irene had pulled the hems of their shirts out of their
> jeans and were sprawled on the banquette in the bay window. Each had a
> can of brew and a sandwich and some potato chips. Kate was sitting in
> one of the wicker reading chairs. She'd turned it to face the others and
>
> not the fireplace. She looked so completely unaffected, all aglow with
> pleasure at having her loved ones around, that I again envied Mark.
> Dolores was sitting on the raised brick skirt of the fireplace, knees
> tucked up to her chest and the oversized tee-shirt tugged down to her
> ankles, so it covered her legs, too. Penny sat Amerindian style on the
> throw rug in front of the fireplace.
> They quieted as I approached. Girl talk. Uh-oh. They were all
> looking at me as I constructed one of my patented diet-killer sandwiches
>
> (slab of rye bread, dijon mustard, roast beef, slice of cheese, ham,
> slice of cheese, salami, slice of cheese, tomato, lettuce and another
> slab of rye, this one with Thousand Island dressing). I was passing up
> my usual slice of onion in hopes of a Close Encounter of the Irene Kind.
>
> Grabbed a bottle of Guinness stout. All the while, exchanging pleasant
> stupidities with the five of them. This is known as Small Talk.
> "Where're you going, Mark?" Kate asked as I opened the screen door.
> I flipped the switch for the outdoor lights with my elbow. "Going
> to sit out here and read and eat and smoke my nasty pipe and let you
> female-type people get on with the talk that went into Pause Mode when I
>
> came down."
> Irene and Bonita erupted with laughter and I felt my ears redden
> for no tangible reason. Kate had one of her Cheshire cat smiles now and
> nodded as I left them. When I stepped into the pool enclosure, I
> activated the Thermonuclear Bug Whackers and settled back onto the
> chaise lounge. Back to my Spencer!
> About sixty pages later, Penny came out and frumped down into the
> other chaise lounge. Her expression was annoyed.
> "What's up, pretty girl?"
> "Dolores is really pissed off at me."
> I closed Spencer and reached for my pipe; time for a refill.
> "Give."
> "Oh, Dolores said she was going to come out here for a swim. I
> whispered to Mom that she'd just be bugging you again and told her she'd
>
> been bothering you on the way to the station. So Mom told Dolores to
> stay with us. Dolores got pissed off and went into the bedroom and
> turned on MTV." Penny's evident disgust became more pronounced. "She
> hates MTV almost as much as I do. She did it just so I wouldn't go in
> there."
> I, on the other hand, actually liked limited doses of MTV.
> Something was wrong with this picture. More importantly --
> "What do you mean, she was bothering me on the way to the station?"
> Penny rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Uncle Dan! Do you think I'm
> some stupid, naive little kid? Or do you think I'm blind? I saw what she
>
> was doing." She giggled with disarming suddenness. "And I know you saw
> it, too."
> I very nearly sprained my thumb packing the pipe. "Oh?" It sounded
> forced and strangled even to my own ears.
> "I saw how big and hard you got down there." Another giggle. "Are
> you going to -- " She paused, squinting, searching for the proper expression.
>
> " -- jerk off?"
> I groaned. "Penny, I don't think this is a really good subject for
> our conversation."
> Her expression became surprisingly hard. "One of the things I
> always liked about you was that you never treated me like a little kid.
> Until now. I know what the score is. With Mom and Dad going at it all
> the time and Dolores always in heat, how could I not know?"
> "Well, then, uh, why bother asking?"
> Suddenly, the Little Sophisticate was an uncertain kid again. She
> shifted around on the chaise and finally said, "Well, I just wondered,
> that's all."
> I was lighting my pipe, stalling her into telling more.
> "And, well, I just wondered if..."
> "What?"
> She shook her head rapidly. "Nothing. Never mind."
> "I think you asked me just because you wanted to watch me squirm.
> And I feel bad that you wanted to make me uncomfortable. Are you happy
> now?"
> Her shocked expression told me I was wrong. She stood abruptly and
> glared. "That's not true! I don't ever want you to be sorry I'm around!"
> "Then why'd you ask me that question?"
> "Because...I wanted you to let me watch you do it, okay? Are *you*
> happy now?" And she stalked off toward the gate.
> She turned abruptly. "Oh. I am supposed to enquire whether it is
> permissible for Bonita and Irene to swim in the pool at night." Very
> formal and grown-up.
> "You may inform the ladies that it is entirely permissible,
> provided there are at least two people present at any given time."
> "Thank you."
> "You are most welcome. Good night..."
> She executed a sharp about-face and strode away.
> "...shrimp."
> Without looking back, she raised one arm over her head, Badfinger
> extended in the classic salute. But I saw her shoulders shake and knew
> she was laughing. Good. I returned to my Spencer. Hawk was on the case.
> The only question remaining in the last 20 pages was whether Susan
> Silverman was coming back to our hero.
> I finished the pipe and the book at the same time (she did return).
>
> I gathered my detritus and headed toward the house. Now, what could I do
>
> to get Penny completely back to being my buddy? I glanced up at the
> stars. Orion's Belt twinkled at me. I waved back, saying thanks. I knew
> what to do.
> MTV was belting out from the bedroom and Kate was absent. "She went
>
> up to bed," Bonita said in response to my quizzical expression. She and
> Irene were talking softly and quietly. Penny was in a reading chair and
> she was engaged in -- oddly enough -- reading. I looked over her
> shoulder. "Gravity's Rainbow." Sometimes that "kid" scared me. It took
> me two weeks to get through it and she was devouring it the way grown-
> ups ate up romance novels.
> I put my dishes in the sink and went down to the basement. I exited
>
> the basement through the side door, then walked around to the side of
> the house, where the pool-enclosure lights were blocked. It didn't take
> long to set up the instrument, even in the dark; its fittings were
> familiar old friends. When I had it all aligned and ready, I went up
> onto the deck and cleared my throat at the screen door.
> "Anyone here interested in taking a look at Jupiter's moons through
>
> a Questar telescope?"
> Penny, slouching over her book, jerked upright in her seat, eyes
> wide. Her head swiveled slowly toward me. "A telescope?" she breathed.
> "Yep."
> I know her feet must have touched the floor somewhere between her
> chair and me, but I didn't observe it. I barely got the screen door open
>
> before she reached it. I'm still not sure she would have waited for it
> to open. "Jupiter's moons!" and she was dragging Uncle Dan into the
> darkness.
> "Over here, where the pool lights don't reach," I said, aiming
> about 80 pounds of Penny in the right direction.
> "Come on -- hurry!" she demanded, pulling 210 pounds of Uncle Dan
> helplessly in her wake. This, I figured, had to be what the skipper of a
>
> luxury superliner like the QE2 experiences when a tug ties on to it.
> "Wait, wait, wait," I said when we were in the shadows. I explained
>
> about night-sight and made her stand, fidgeting, with her eyes closed
> for the requisite 30 seconds. Then I showed her to the telescope and
> watched the fun. She had no trouble learning the fine controls so she
> could do her own tracking on her target.
> She was grabbed by the eyeball, hunched over the instrument and
> immobile. Silhouetted in the night, I was struck with wonder at the
> intensity of her interest, the totality of her fascination. She was
> drinking in the night, sucking up the stars, and I doubted all the
> wonders of the universe could sate her hunger. In this, she was no
> different than any healthy kid. I thought of that most pitiful of
> creatures -- the school teacher who's been ground into apathy by
> underfunding, disconnected parents, lack of community support and
> respect and generally shitty conditions. I was filled with a flare of
> rage at the unbelievable, wasteful stupidity of a society that allows
> anyone who voluntarily chose to teach the Pennys of the world to be
> forcibly jaded to the glorious miracle of that thirsty young mind. The
> fury burned so brightly that I wondered if I could glow in the dark, and
>
> I forced myself to be calm, tried to think of something else, to quench
> the anger or at least bank it as coals.
> I heard a distant splash. Ahhh, yes, the lovelies and their
> midnight swim. I was about to excuse myself for a little recreational
> ogling when Penny asked if we could see Saturn. Well, no, since Saturn
> wasn't up. But Mars was and I sighted for her.
> Then I made my break.
> Big as I am, I walk very quietly. I don't like to disturb the other
>
> tenants on the land, the four-legged ones. So it was an accident. I
> intended to just walk through the gate of the pool enclosure and stand
> there in the light and try to chat up the young women -- primarily,
> Irene. And wax my eyeballs on the sight of them in their swimsuits.
> As it happens, at six-foot-five, I can see over the wooden fencing
> pretty easily long before I get to the gate. And they didn't hear me
> coming.
> They were standing in the shallow end, in waist-deep water, facing
> each other. Irene was just undoing the knot in the single strip of
> fabric holding up the top of Bonita's maillot. The water held it to her
> breasts, and then Irene peeled it down. Her lips were tracing the line
> of exposure.
> Broing!
>
> Chapter Five
>
> In profile, Bonita's breasts were amazing. Pear-shaped and quite
> large, they were nonetheless defying gravity by jutting. Until that
> moment, I'd always thought Playmates were airbrushed into that thrust.
> Her nipples were hard and Irene was feasting on them, first one and then
>
> the other and then back, while caressing Bonita's sleekly curved waist
> and hips. Irene's nipples were very long and very hard inside the top of
>
> her strapless two-piece. Very long, as in maybe three-quarters of an
> inch. Considering how tight the stretch material was, that was pretty
> amazing all by itself.
> Bonita was shifting slowly from side to side, her hips rolling and
> her butt twitching. She ran her hands over Irene's head and shoulders
> and then gripped her face. She turned Irene's face toward her and
> fastened her mouth on Irene's. Their arms went around each other and
> they clinched, hands moving constantly. They fell to their knees,
> pressed together. The water was now at the level of their necks. When
> Irene pulled away, a bright blue strip floated in the water: her top.
> Bonita urged her to stand. As Irene stood, Bonita slicked the bottoms
> down over Irene's legs and just then I sensed someone approaching.
> Penny!
> I turned and strode to intercept, but it wasn't Penny; it was Kate.
>
> I gestured for quiet, reached her in two strides and turned her toward
> the side of the house where her youngest daughter was still -- I hoped
> -- gazing at the heavenly bodies of her choice.
> "I was just going to check on Bonita and Irene."
> "They're fine." I cleared my throat.
> "Dan, why are you herding me? What are they doing?" She turned to
> face me and her hand brushed the tent in my pants. Her eyes got very big
>
> in the night as comprehension sank in. "They're not -- ?"
> "They're not hurting anyone," I said. She planted her heels and
> froze, staring at me in starlight.
> "You mean my sister and my daughter are lesbians?" she finally
> hissed, horrified.
> "I dunno, but right now they're lovers. Leave them alone."
> "But -- I feel so -- so -- "
> "Think how I feel. I've been fantasizing about Irene all evening."
> I never found out what she was about to say, because Penny came
> charging up: "You've gotta see this, Mom! It's amazing!"
> "Yeah, Mom, go take a look," I agreed. "I'm going to go get a
> beer."
> I heard quiet splashing in the pool. I was jealous of both women. I
>
> strode to the house, changing my mind about the beer. This called for
> brandy. Then I decided on beer again. In my state, a couple of belts of
> brandy would convince me that I should take up Dolores on her
> invitation.
> Which was when I realized there was no more MTV coming from the
> bedroom. But there was another sound. I crept to the door and listened.
> Panting and moans. And words, barely intelligible: "Oh yeah -- oh yeah
> -- gimme -- uh -- more -- unnnh -- more! -- harder! -- oh yeah! -- "
> Like that.
> Brandy.
> I put an unreasonable amount in the snifter and took it onto the
> front deck, the one that faces all the greenery that defends my house
> from the road and runs in front of the first-floor bedrooms. I sat on
> the Adirondack chair in front of the bedroom Irene and Bonita would
> occupy. Served three purposes. For one, it kept me away from the noises
> Dolores was making. For another, I'd know when my sapphic fantasy girls
> were done in the pool and I could go to the back deck. And, as long as I
>
> could hear Kate and Penny murmuring from the shadows at the side of the
> house, I'd know where they were.
> About two-thirds of the way through a bowl of my pipe tobacco, I
> heard the door to the bedroom open and close. I crept over to Dolores's
> door and listened. Silence. I picked up the remains of my brandy and
> went around to the side of the house, greeting Penny and Kate.
> "I hate to break up the star search, but we've got to repack the
> telescope or condensation will form inside the housing."
> "Oh...okay." Penny was very polite about it. "Can we do it again
> tomorrow night, Uncle Dan? Please?"
> "Honey, he may have other plans," Kate cautioned.
> I bent and kissed Penny's forehead. "Sweetheart, you and me go on a
>
> tour of the heavens tomorrow. I'll set up the big one and we'll see if
> we can't spot Mons Olympus, okay?"
> "What's that?" Penny asked. "It sounds dirty!"
> "Penny!" Kate gasped.
> "Mons Olympus is on Mars and it's the tallest mountain we know of
> in our Solar System."
> The ladies helped me carry the telescope and tripod inside and
> Penny watched closely as I disassembled the mount and put everything
> back into its case. I bid both a friendly good night and then refilled
> the snifter, took my pouch and my pipe and myself out to the pool
> enclosure. I had an Elmore Leonard novel awaiting me.
> I was stretched out on the chaise and enjoying the silence when I
> heard, "Knock-knock?"
> I turned my head. Bonita. She was carrying two cans of beer and was
>
> wearing one of the terrycloth bathrobes I keep in the bathroom closet
> for guests to use.
> "Who's there?"
> "Banana. Knock-knock?"
> "Who's there?"
> "Banana. Knock-knock?"
> "Who's there?"
> "Orange."
> "Orange?"
> "Orange you glad it's not banana again?"
> I groaned.
> "Now that I've ruined your evening, mind if I join you?" She still
> had the infectious grin. When Mark and Regina had been on the splits,
> Bonita and I had gotten to be good buddies. Somehow, she could always
> hit me with that grin when things seemed at their worst and before I
> could say "starving writer," I'd be grinning, too.
> "Come in and abuse me some more," I said, grinning back. She
> settled into the chaise opposite mine and then raised her eyebrows while
>
> staring at the brandy.
> "Oh?"
> "Oh." I closed "Double Dutch Treat" (I was halfway through "Cat
> Dancer") and put it down.
> "Special occasion?"
> "You got it." I took a big slug of the brandy. "I'm disappointed.
> Doubly. Partly with you."
> She looked genuinely shocked. "Me? Why?"
> "I saw you and Irene in the pool."
> Her mouth sagged open, then slowly closed. She was about to speak,
> but I cut her off.
> "Disappointed -- not that you were making love with a woman, but
> that you didn't have the good sense to be more discrete about it. I was
> the one who stumbled onto you. It could have been Dolores."
> "She knows the score."
> "You got that right," I muttered.
> "Excuse me?"
> "Never mind," I said, louder. "Penny could have found you. Or your
> mother. She'd be horrified."
> "Mom's cool. What makes you think she'd be shocked?"
> "She was." I told her of the conversation Kate and I had.
> Bonita thought it over, then nodded. "Yeah, it was thoughtless."
> She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. That caused some interesting
> tidal effects on her robe. "Well, I'm no lesbian. I like
> women, too, but I like men." She turned a frown on me, drank some more
> beer and asked, "What was the other part of the disappointment?"
> "Irene."
> "Irene?" Then: "Oh!" She grinned.
> "Yeah, I've been hungry for her all evening."
> "But we only got here a couple of hours ago."
> "Yeah, well, I've been looking forward to some gorgeous single
> female-type company all evening."
> She finished the beer and automatically popped the tab on the
> second. "Haven't been getting any, eh?"
> "Oh, that's not it, so much."
> And bit by bit, she wormed it out of me about Dolores, and her
> games and come-on behavior. And she said essentially the same thing her
> mother and Penny had said.
> "But she's only 15, for crying out loud!"
> "How does it go? 'If they're big enough to bleed, they're big
> enough to' -- "
> "Bullshit. She's a kid. Sexy, gorgeous, horny -- but a kid."
> Bonita suddenly came over to me and kissed me lightly on the lips,
> then a bit less lightly. She caught me totally by surprise. Just as I
> began to react, she went back to her chaise lounge.
> "Explain," I managed to croak.
> "When I was 15, I had the most tremendous crush on you. I wanted
> you to make mad, passionate love to me. I tried everything I thought I
> could get away with to turn you on."
> "I remember. And you did turn me on."
> She smiled. "I know. But you never let me come on too strong --
> never laid a glove on me. I thought I was ready for that, too, but maybe
>
> I wasn't, and if you'd taken me up on it, I might've had a really messed
>
> up head for a while. And you're resisting again, and Dolores sounds a
> lot more brazen than I dared to be."
> "That's for damn sure!"
> "So here's my poor Uncle Dan, all revved up by a lolita, all
> charged up for Irene -- and he finds Irene getting it on with his
> niece."
> "Worse than that, even."
> "Huh?"
> "Then his niece gives him a kiss and it tastes like Irene-juice is
> still on her face. I'm jealous!"
> "Of me or her?"
> "Both."
> It took a moment for that one to sink in. Then she came back beside
>
> my chaise lounge.
> "Really?" she whispered, staring me in the eye. "Really?" She bent
> over me, bracing her hands on the arms of the chaise lounge. The robe
> fell open at the top. She wasn't wearing anything I could see under that
>
> robe.
> "Really?" She repeated and pressed her lips to mine. I groaned into
>
> her open mouth and managed to restrain myself from throwing her down and
>
> fucking her.
> She finally raised her face and breathed, "You know, I still want
> you, a lot." As she spoke, she ran her fingers down over my arm, then
> across my hip and thigh and finally rested her hand on my cock. Her eyes
>
> widened as she gripped it.
> She stood straight and straddled the chaise lounge, letting her
> robe fall open. She moved forward till her neatly trimmed cunt was right
>
> over my face, then slowly lowered her crotch onto my more-than-eager
> mouth.
> She was juicy and sweet and very, very hot. I kept my eyes open and
>
> had a groundhog's view of her -- trim tummy, tiny waist, outrageous
> breasts, hard nipples...which I quickly reached up to tweak. As I licked
>
> her and sucked her, I ran my hands down and then around her back,
> finally fastening onto her firm, rounded ass. I pulled her down against
> my mouth and began teasing her clit. She was flowing now, bathing my
> face in her sauce. When I began circling her clit and she began shaking
> with her orgasm, she was drooling cunt juice into my mouth.
> She straightened slowly, then moved down on the lounge. She reached
>
> down and unfastened the zipper and waist-snap of my jeans. My cock bobbed
>
> up, purple and angry at the long confinement.
> She moved to one side of the lounge and dropped to her knees as she
>
> gripped my aching dick.
> "It's so big, I -- " She looked up at me. "I don't think I'm up for
>
> something this size, tonight -- but I will be tomorrow."
> I groaned as she began moving her hand on my cock. Oh, well, I
> thought, a handjob from her would be better than my own, at least. And
> she had promised to do better tomorrow.
> "But I want you in my mouth tonight -- now!" And then she ducked
> her head down and gobbled about a third of my prick before she reached
> her limit. She didn't try to be arty about it. She just latched on and
> went into leech mode, sucking and jerking.
> Thirty seconds passed. All of thirty seconds.
> "I'm gonna cum!" I breathed hoarsely.
> She sucked harder and jerked harder and then I let loose. She made
> a soft noise, as if she'd been hit in the back with a pillow, then
> swallowed and sucked for oil. Some of my cum ran out of the corners of
> her mouth, but she never stopped sucking as I fired off again and then
> the semen just poured out of me in one continuous, blissful stream. She
> kept sucking and tonguing until I was done and then swallowed with a
> loud GULP.
> I lay limp as she let my shrinking cock fall from her mouth. She
> rested her face on my thigh and stroked my shriveling prick with the
> tips of her fingers. After a few seconds, she raised her face to look at
>
> me, questioning. I motioned to her and she quickly crawled up into my
> arms and pressed herself against me. We kissed a couple of times. I
> could taste Irene and me in her mouth.
> "I've wanted to do that for so long," she whispered, snuggling.
> "Me, too."
> "Really?"
> I stroked her back through the robe. "Truth."
> She giggled. "Still want Irene?"
> "Well, uh..."
> "Truth?" she admonished.
> "Yes."
> "Me, too. I better get going."
> "Into bed with Irene."
>
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