Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Quixotic Rapprochement
Summary: Ordinary life takes a turn.
Keywords: inc,fic,romance
   "Allô Monsieur - Mister Rocinante?  Bonjour, are you with us today?"
   I dropped my pencil and snapped upright in my chair, as I suddenly
realized that she was waving and gesturing to get my attention.
   "Do I need to repeat the question?"
   "Sorry, Madame Soliel, could you?"
   I surely deserved the question.  I'd been day-dreamily drawing in the
back of my humanities class.  My pad contained a nearly complete sketch of
a familiar looking woman with long curls of hair framing her face.  I'd
captured that same silhouetted form that stood before the class waiting
patiently for my response.  Hands upon her hips, she was illuminated by
effervescent daylight streaming through the bottom portion of the tall
windows that ran the length of our lecture hall.  The half-lowered blinds
added to the effect as the afternoon sun reflected oddly off the highly
polished floor.  I supposed that having her for both French and humanities
gained me a little forbearance, when she rephrased the question.  The
lightly lilted accent her words carried enchanted me further, but somehow I
withdrew from that infatuation and formed a coherent answer, which she
accepted and then continued on with the lesson, occasionally calling upon
other students.
   It was a glorious spring day and a light breeze blew the flowering trees
outside.  The iridescence of the white dress she wore must have induced my
stupor, because I usually paid close attention in humanities, since it was
one of my favorite classes.  Today, however, my mind had flitted between
the spring weather outside and my professor's feminine contours.  The way
the sun was beaming in through the partially lowered blinds, accentuated
her long flowing white sunlit dress and it captivated my gaze entirely as I
refocused intently upon her while my hand continued working the pencil.
   The lecture wasn't boring, it was about the height of the European
renaissance and she brought a distinct French flavor that made it very
interesting with lots of side references.  That era fascinated me deeply;
it seemed to be the seed that had germinated into our modern culture.  My
thoughts today were mixed with wishing I could have experienced that period
and how her striking beauty seemed to personify any number of the women
we'd seen, captured within paintings or sculptures shown during the
lecture, somehow brought to life in front of us.
   At some point, she regarded me drawing and observing her as she finished
describing the slide and paused before proceeding.  The room seemed to
disappear and our eyes locked.  I knew I was staring, had been staring, was
continuing to stare, but I couldn't help myself.  There was some type of
mental block that prevented me from looking away.  She knew I was agaze and
there was the smallest trace of a blush upon her face as she turned her
attention back to the next slide in her presentation.  The darkened room
contributed to the translucency of her dress that had so captured my
attention.  Her form beneath it was clear in the brilliant sunlight and I
couldn't avert my vision away as I continued to fill in details of my
sketch.
   The rays of light danced in her long golden curls and shone off her
alabaster skin as she turned to the class after each slide.  A small pang
of loss seemed to encroach upon my thoughts each time my view of her visage
was interrupted as she'd turn her back to us to describe in detail, every
nuance of the art depicted.  Her words were soft and alluring as she gently
strode to and from the front of the class.  She'd extend the pointer to the
projection screen as she softly caressed out the shapes and artists
strokes. Slide after slide she continued the lecture; each new slide
seemingly more profound than the previous.  She was a graceful raconteuse
who lithely led the class towards one of her renowned climatic finales.
   When the lecture was over, I saw her staring at the finished sketch I'd
drawn of her.  Embarrassment instantly spread warmth throughout my body and
face.  When she finally looked up with a perplexed expression, I felt
momentarily immobile as if the force of our eyes locking had effected my
entire being.  Fortune had her attention redirected by another student
asking her a question, which allowed my escape as I fumbled closing my
notes for several protracted moments and quickly hurried from the hall. 
Urgency directed me on instinct alone towards my next class.  Blinded by
tension building inside me, I could only process the path directly in front
of me as I replayed the incident over in my head endlessly.  I was nearly
halfway across the quad, when someone grasped me gently by the hand.  Then
suddenly, time froze and I found myself turning in slow motion to discover
her there as if delivered from a dream.
   "Monsieur Rocinante, you seemed peculiarly distracted today.  Is
everything okay?"
   "Oh, no.  I - um - I think it's this lovely spring weather," I answered,
surprised by the interaction and her soft hand still holding mine.
   "Are you certain that is all?" she asked with that ever present hint of
French accent.
   "Yes, Mrs.  Soliel, I'm enjoying the course.  It's very interesting -
too interesting even.  I just get so wrapped up in thinking about how it
must have been.  The renaissance had so much happening, people were into so
many different areas of study and everything was new."
   "Well, that was certainly so for the upper class." After a moment longer
she moved her hand to my shoulder.  "Did I perceive that your thoughts were
elsewhere today?" she asked demurely and blushing brightly as if she were
surprised at her own question.
   "Sorry Madame - um - sorry.  I didn't mean any disrespect.  I shouldn't
have stared, it's just - uh - your dress today - it was - it is -
beautiful. Mr.  Soliel is a lucky man," I babbled the words out tactlessly.
"Sorry, I'm an idiot.  I - I hope I haven't offended you," I offered, half
expecting a slap.
   "Your grades tell a different tale, but no offense taken," she added
promptly, but then seemed temporarily speechless.  Moments passed and she
rattled off some nervous words, "La fièvre printanière arrive.  Perhaps
this beautiful weather has made fools of us all.  I shall see you in
French, tomorrow; à bientôt, Paul," she said, with what I could have sworn
was a wink.
   Was it a wink?  I wondered.  Perhaps it had been the sun playing tricks
on my eyes or a wishful thought I'd envisioned during my idle daydreaming.
I regained my senses moments later, she'd said good-bye, but we remained
standing there like two awkward debutants, wondering how to extract
ourselves from this self-inflicted enchantment.
   "Yes, it must be 'spring fever' as you say, until tomorrow Mme." I
agreed, as I finally attempted to break the spell and started turning to
leave.
   "Could I see it again?" she asked quickly before we parted.
   I carried the thick leather wrapped pad everywhere with me; I didn't
think I had much talent, but I'd always drawn.  This pad was maybe my tenth
or eleventh since I'd started drawing things as a child.  I'd even taken a
few art electives, before I'd decided to select business as my major.  I
pulled it from under my arm, flipped to the middle and leafed through
several other pictures until I reached hers.
   "Here it is," I said at last.
   Her head tilted, she studied it with a smile on her lips and then said,
"You have some talent and it's quite flattering."
   Not sure what to say to her complement, I asked, "Would you like to have
it?"
   "Actually, I would - I'd love it."
   I folded the thick sheet along the small perforations several times and
carefully tore it below the spiral binding, leaving behind the stalk.
   "Would you sign it for me?" she asked.
   "Sure thing," I said.  I placed it on the hard surface inside the front
cover to sign it with a flourish that touched lightly against the
background of the sketch.  "Here you are."
   "I don't think I have a frame that will do this justice.  I'll have to
buy something nice to put it in.  Thank you, so much," she said accepting
it.
   "My pleasure, you have a great afternoon."
   "I will and you do the same."
   She turned slowly to walk back in the direction she'd come.  Languid
steps carried her away from me as she continued studying the sketch.  I
remained frozen and watching; still transfixed to the dress blowing in the
light breeze, alit in sunlight.  I felt that I should hope she hadn't seen
the desperate arousal she'd caused, but somehow I believed she had and
maybe she'd taken some enjoyment from the physical response she'd given
rise to.
   My business class didn't go much better as I devoted a fresh page to a
new sketch of her from memory.  Honestly, this one was better than the
first as I regarded the finished piece.  The question and answer period got
me another startled inquiry as I stared out at the trees blooming in the
quad again.  I actually heard this one and responded appropriately, but a
follow on question had tripped me up.  It seemed I wasn't the only one with
my head in the clouds because after a few more repetitions of this with
others in the class, the professor gave us an early dismissal.
   As I strode back towards my dorm, I was convinced it'd been that dress
and her figure I'd seen through it.  The image was emblazoned in my mind
and I couldn't keep my thoughts off of her.  I'd known she was married;
she'd covered Madame versus Mademoiselle the first week of class during my
freshman year.  She'd taught much of the first week speaking only French
and her flashy engagement ring had a matching wedding band.  It had been
one of the many props she'd used to get everyone conversing.  I'd already
had a year of French in high school, but those rings had stuck in my
memory.
   She should have been off limits for any number of reasons, but today I
wasn't thinking clearly.  My thoughts kept drifting back to her taking my
hand, standing there in the full daylight of the quad.  We'd stood right in
front of Drumheller Fountain but I couldn't remember hearing the water.  It
was all I could do to look her in her eyes and avert my attention from her
body while the blood pounded in my ears.  Her hand had been so soft and
gentle.  Her eyes had sparkled with joy and a hint of mischief.  I wasn't
very good at picking up social cues, but I couldn't help thinking her
behavior was more than mere concern; it felt exploratory and flirtatious.
   She's probably my mother's age and married and my professor, she's -
she's so off limits, completely unattainable, right!?  I repeatedly asked
or perhaps told myself.
   There are so many reasons it could never happen, was my conscience's
consistent reply that evening and many others.
   After several days of these feelings, I began to think it was a good
thing that the semester was nearly over.  This was to be the last of my
foreign language and humanities requirements.  Visions of her filled my
mind when I slept in my small dorm room and I found myself continuing to be
visually distracted by her in class.  Luckily, there were no repeated
episodes with Mrs.  Soliel, at least none that she noticed as I attempted
to be more discrete.  My thoughts dwelt on her for the remaining weeks of
class.
   I longed to be dispatched from this deepening enchantment; it was a
hopelessly infeasible desire that could never be pursued.  When the finals
were done and the semester had come to an end, I found myself experiencing
a dichotomous mixture of sorrow and relief.  I thought that perhaps the
spell would be broken, especially if I found some way to avoid this
obsession that I was certain could only lead to perpetual sadness.
   Propelled by worry over the depths of my fixation, I decided that I
would take a break this summer.  I hadn't participated in early
registration for classes because I had already been considering some type
of trip.  My senior year was going to be fairly light because I had
attended summer semester during my freshman and sophomore years to get as
many requirements out of the way as possible.  When I finished out this
semester with A's in all of my subjects again, it settled the matter. 
Feelings of achievement made me believe I'd earned a break in addition to
needing one.
   I hoped that removing myself from the environment of the University of
Washington might reset my perspective on things.  I'd considered going to
see my brothers in California but, surprisingly, what I really longed for
was to go back home, despite having just been there over the winter break.
I hadn't trusted my truck enough to attempt driving to see my brothers in
San Francisco, only thirteen hours away, much less heading across country
on a multiple day trip to Vermont.  Our family wasn't rich and I'd gotten
tuition, room and board covered between Pell grant and a scholarship from
my grades.  So, when I had gone home before, it'd been by the cheapest
available transportation and that'd been a bus.
   The dorm's hall phone offered little privacy, so I made my way from my
dorm room with a roll of quarters to the corner payphone.  I dialed the
number, deposited several of the coins and heard the operator tell me to
insert two more for my long distance call to be completed.  Once Mama was
on the line, there were a few minutes of me dancing around the subject, I
think she could sense the desperation in my voice and she told me to come
home.  Then she added the enticement that Pops would give me some money to
cover the expense of the trip and some living money for helping out on the
farm.
   When I got off the phone, I realized that if I was being honest with
myself, I was feeling more than a little homesick and lonely.  I'd opted to
stay on campus for most all of the summers so far and many of the shorter
holiday breaks and had only returned to the farm for a couple of winter
breaks.  My last trip home had been nice, but it'd been winter and what I
missed was the late spring and summer time of our family farm.  The
wonderful weather over the last few weeks was deepening my desire to see it
abloom again.  I hadn't come home my second year at all, because the very
first Christmas home from college had coincided with the one year
anniversary of the soul crushing end of my first and only real
relationship. It'd been a lonely two week reminder of the breakup with my
girlfriend since middle school.
   Jenny had gone off to attend the University of Vermont in Burlington
when she graduated a year ahead of me.  We were both born and raised in
Vermont, just outside Montpelier, as were my older brothers and sister.  My
sister, Emma, had graduated from the same university when I was about five
and I'd been considering going there too, until Jenny told me that she'd
met someone else.  She done that during her first Christmas home from UVM,
before I graduated high school.  I finished my senior year without a
girlfriend, which had somehow felt lonelier even though she hadn't been
around at all during the fall.  This led to several awkward instances of
being laughed at for taking my sister to prom and it initiated my generally
avoiding relationships altogether.  The breakup had shaped my decision to
go out of state for college and I'd gone just about as far away from her
and the farm as I could.
   There hadn't been any girlfriends after her and I went off to college
changed.  It was fairly naïve to try, but I simply cut off that part of my
life and became more focused on my schoolwork, my drawing and my future. 
I'd thought about asking out some women in my freshmen classes, but the
University of Washington women seemed more adept socially than myself and
it'd felt intimidating.  I chalked it up to being from a small town, living
on a farm and having so little experience dating due to my long term
involvement.  Abstaining after the first year seemed to just perpetuate the
behavior and I hadn't been especially attracted to anyone until that day in
humanities.
   Mama's encouragement to come back to the farm, made me genuinely believe
it would do me some good.  Emma might not appreciate her baby brother being
there, cramping her space, but I figured she'd get over it when I helped
around the farm.  She and her burly boyfriend, Bo, were practically running
the farm these days anyhow.  They'd been planning on getting married for a
couple years, but hadn't tied the knot just yet for some reason.  I packed
my bags as soon as I'd gotten back to my dorm room and caught the very next
bus home.  The tiring three day trip was another reason I hadn't gone home
much, especially for shorter breaks.
   Several days and bus changes later, I finally arrived in Burlington.  In
the bus station parking lot, I was surprised to see Emma pull up to fetch
me.  I'd expected to see my mother since I'd phoned her the day before
arriving, but it was nice to see her familiar face.  She had driven the
family farm truck with our golden retriever Samson eagerly awaiting me in
the back.  Tiredly, I walked from the shaded waiting area, tossed my stuff
in the bed of the truck, gave Samson a good patting and joined her in the
cab.
   "You seem happier to see him than me," she said, leaning over for a
quick kiss.
   "Not at all, you're a sight for sore eyes."
   "So?  How's college going, Squirt?" she asked with a little concern and
looking me over pensively.
   She'd called me that forever, well as long as I could remember anyway.
I'd never resisted the nickname and even now it felt endearing.  Despite
her often gruff stance toward me, I could tell that she loved and cared
about me.  She had made a regular habit of sending me care packages
throughout my time in college.  My heart always leapt when they arrived;
the anticipation of something from her always brightened my day.  Her
little gift boxes were neatly packed and contained items she thought I
might need or want: homemade snacks, clothing or books she thought I might
read.
   "It's going okay but I'm glad to be home.  Thanks for all the care
packages you've sent.  I can't tell you how much easier it makes being
away."
   "I remember how it was when I was in college," she said and laughed. 
"And I lived close enough to drive home when I needed to.  Thanks for
writing back."
   "How are you and the folks?"
   "The late spring this year has them realizing that they are tired of the
long cold winters."
   "Our spring was kind of early."
   "Yeah, the weather you have in Seattle seems rainy though.  Anyway,
they're thinking of selling to me, so they can move south."
   "Huh, you have enough money to swing that?" I asked surprised.
   "I've got some of it, but I was hoping I could pick your business brain
to come up with a plan."
   "I'd be happy to help you and I'm going to be working around the farm
this summer."
   "Oh, to be sure, I'm going to have you up at the crack of dawn each
day," she joked.  Then after a couple moments she added, "Of course, you'll
also be telling me about school and your love life."
   "So, you're not just here to pick me up?" I teased her back.
   She mussed my hair and said, "We're not going to start that again."
   It was a private joke she and I had shared since a particular High
School dance.  I'd called her to pick me up early because Jenny and I'd had
an argument.  Emma gave me the fifth degree about it all the way home.  I'd
complained something to the effect So you didn't just come to pick me up?.
The term had stuck and became code for, so you want to know about my
private life.  I never resisted telling her anything, she was open, helpful
and genuinely concerned about me.  The complaints about cramping her space
only came as I got old enough to have the normal intrusions that siblings
have, but she mostly launched those at me teasingly because she knew it got
under my skin a little.
   When she finished chuckling, she started the truck and began the
forty-five minute drive back to the farm.  It was already getting pretty
warm but the wind coming in the window cooled things off and to make it
even better, I hung my hand outside letting it ride the wind roll-a-coaster
as I twisted it to and fro to catch the oncoming air like a sail.
   We were soon in the countryside heading away from the concentration of
people in town.  We chatted about her plan to buy Mama and Pops out, but we
didn't get into any serious details.  As we turned down our road, she
pointed out a couple of new neighbors, and told me some of the older
farmers were selling off as well.  As we approached the dirt road leading
to the house, I saw the old station wagon was up on a trailer over by the
shed, the front tires were flat and there was mud in the grill.  My initial
impression was that things weren't looking too good.  Then I noticed
another oddity; there was no sign of Bo's car.  He was always here or at
least he had been.  They'd been dating since right before I left for
college and I'd even seen him here as recently as last Christmas.
   "Is Bo off somewhere?"
   "He's off permanently."
   "You guys broke up?"
   "Yep."
   "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't -"
   "Don't worry about it, I'm a big girl.  He was interested in one thing
and when it wasn't going to be free, he moved on."
   "The farm?"
   "Yeah, when Pops asked him when he was finally going to make an honest
woman of me, get married and buy them out - well, he didn't hang around
long."
   "Jeez, Emma."
   "Well, it hurt but I'm over it.  Now I'm just looking into what I can do
to make this work," she said as she spread her arms indicating the fields
of young crops growing all around us on either side of the drive.  She
continued driving and parked between the tree and steps of the two story
farm house.
   I hopped from the truck at the same instant that the cloud of dust
following us up the dirt road enveloped us.  As it cleared, I found Samson
at my side jumping up to welcome me officially.  I patted him and ran my
fingers through his warm hairy mane there beneath the big maple tree in the
front yard, which cast long shadows over the place in the late afternoon
sun.  The glistening green tin roof glinted in my eyes and I shaded them to
get a closer look.  There were late tulips and daffodils overflowing the
front flower bed.  Additionally, the porch looked recently painted in
white, the porch swing had shiny new chains and a fresh coat of green
paint. The shutters and screen door all had a matching coat of forest
green. I knew the flowers were probably Emma's work, since she and I had
put a few bulbs in right after she'd finished college.  She'd continued to
add more as each year passed, especially of the later blooming varieties.
   "Wow, the flowers are really busting out.  Who's been painting?" I asked
as the dust cleared and I grabbed my bags.
   Emma had joined me to look at the house and said, "That'd be Pops, he's
been on a kick to spruce the place up.  Wait till you see the addition he
put on the back."
   "I didn't know we needed more space."
   "Well, he'd thought -"
   "Oh, I really am an idiot sometimes," I interrupted her the moment I saw
her face.  Her chin was an array of dimples as she tried to hold back the
stream of tears, and I felt a real dolt.  "Emma, I wasn't thinking," I
said, as I dropped my bags and hugged her close.  "It was recent, wasn't
it?"
   "Yeah, it - just - he - it - was - a couple weeks - ago," she said
between sobs.
   A momentary thought passed through my mind as I wondered why my mother
and father hadn't come out yet.  Emma's shuddering emotional state quickly
replaced all my thoughts with concern for her.  We stood there holding one
another while I patted her back and told her it would be okay.  I was
surprised she'd come to pick me up at all, but that was Emma, she'd often
power through what would break most people.  This was different though, she
wasn't taking it well.
   "It looks like I got here just in time," I said kissing her forehead and
rubbing her back gently until she'd fully regained her composure.
   The lapse was relatively short and she was back to her brusk self in
mere moments.  "Come on, let's get you inside and washed up for dinner,"
she said wiping her eyes on her short ruffly sleeves.
   Emma treated me like this often enough.  The age difference alone played
a big part in that, but she was a lot like Mama.  Our mom didn't have much
time to see how children should be raised, since she and my pop had worked
this farm as soon as Emma was born.  Her grandparents had given them the
land when our mother had turned up pregnant at the end of high school.
   Pops' father and brother had helped him build the initial farm house,
which could be seen in the structure of the existing one; he'd increased it
substantially over the years including the addition of a second story. 
They'd really made something of the place, but it'd taken time and Emma
being the oldest hadn't gotten much tenderness.
   I was the baby of our family and probably got the easiest treatment from
our parents.  They hadn't doted on any of us from what I'd heard.  Most of
what I had heard came from Emma, because my brothers both got shipped out
to Vietnam shortly after I was born.  Emma came back from college just
about the time I needed someone to watch over me as I started school.  She
became my main caregiver in many regards.
   I grabbed my bag and followed her to the door she held open for me. 
"You know where everything is.  I made your bed and put clean towels on the
bar in the bathroom."
   "Thanks, I'll be right back down," I offered and trotted up the wooden
stairs to the top.
   My room was off to the right and when I entered it I found it was just
as I'd left it.  Looking out the back window I got a glimpse of the
addition which was right below my back window.  I dropped my bag on the bed
and went back out to the bathroom.  There was one bath upstairs, there was
another downstairs, since it had been a three room house to start: kitchen,
bathroom and bedroom.  That's how the three of them always told it; I never
saw that iteration.  When I was born there was already a second story and I
don't remember many changes to the place as I was growing up.  Hearing that
there'd been an expansion on the ground floor came as a pretty big
surprise.
   In the bathroom, I closed the door, stripped down and hopped in the
shower.  The three days of dirt, and maybe some of my recent dust bath,
washed down the drain.  With the washcloth I cleaned everywhere including
my face and ears, cleaning them very thoroughly due to Mama's obsessive
checking of them.  When I got out I notice there were clean clothes on the
hamper and my dirty ones were gone.  I put the wash cloth back on the rod
neatly and grabbed the towel to dry off.  All clean and dried, I dressed in
the fresh clothes someone had left me, and then I headed back downstairs.
Some soothingly familiar aromas wafted into my nose and I followed the
scent of them back into the kitchen where I found Mama and Emma hovering
over some pots on the stove.
   "Where's Pops?"
   "He's laid up back there in the addition," Mama said coming to hug me
and check my ears.
   "He's injured?"
   "Yes, although he's making it out to be nothing.  He hurt his foot
shortly after putting that thing on," she said pointing to the new doorway
that used to be an exit to the outside.
   "Wow, nice!" I exclaimed as I walked into the new room.  "Hey, Pops,
what have you done?" I asked bending down to hug my dad.
   "Oh, this ain't nothin' but your Ma won't lemme up," he said tapping the
cast on his left leg.
   He was sitting in an easy chair, but there was a big bed in the room and
I'd observed that there was a door right as I'd entered that led into what
I presumed was a new bathroom since it appeared to be tiled.
   "Pretty nice handy work," I said admiring all the newly finished
construction.
   "Yeah, came out nice, I think.  I made a new mudroom out of the old
bathroom and put this addition on over the old backdoor."
   "It looks great.  How'd you break your -"
   "It's just the small bone in my leg.  Doc put this on to mend 'er good."
He paused for a moment then said more softly, "It were ma temper."
   It must have been a huge effort for him to admit that.  Pops wasn't one
to allow himself fault.  Almost as soon as I'd thought the thought, he
answered in a shushed tone.  "That bastard Bo, left your sister a marked
woman."
   "Marked?"
   "Shush, she'll hear ya.  Come over here and sit," he said indicating the
bed.
   I went over to the bed and sat beside him.  He'd never really spoken to
me like this.  It was well out of character.
   "They's been together goin' on three years, they's sposed to been
married.  Who gonna be with her now?"
   "Emma's smart and looks good, she can still find someone.  She's not
that old, Pops," I whispered back.  "What'd you kick?"
   "The damn car."
   "Is that how the station wagon came to be up on the trailer?"
   "Yes sir, it is.  I drove out after him in the rain.  Them tires were
balder than my head.  Good thing though, I was gonna kill him."
   "Jesus, Pops."
   "Watch your mouth, Sonny."
   The whole interaction with Pops was another of the reasons I'd chosen a
school so far away.  I respected him and loved him but his gruff manner and
hypocritical behavior had us at odds more often than I wanted to remember.
   "Yes, sir.  I'm glad it was just your leg.  I'm guessing you went off
the road."
   "Yep, just about a week ago, now."
   "Emma said they'd been broken up for two."
   "She's trying to put a brave face on it."
   "You two finished telling all of Emma's woes?" Mama yelled from the
door.
   "Mama you shush, she's gonna hear that," he told her in a hushed voice.
   "Ain't no room around here for standin' on ceremony," came her usual
reply.  "Dinner's ready, come on and eat."
   A loud cough came from the kitchen followed by a sad laugh.  I was
certain it was Emma without even seeing her.  They were both rough as dried
up corn cob husks and I loved them dearly.  Pops grabbed his crutches and
started toward the kitchen.  I followed ready to catch him, since he didn't
look very stable and he seemed to wince as his foot came down.  Emma was at
the sink with tears running down her face and the biggest smile you could
imagine.  They were all a paradoxical mix of bluntness, softness and love.
   We each took our places around the oblong table; Emma was opposite me
and Mama opposite Pops.  There was home canned Lima beans, some mashed
potatoes and Mama's meatloaf.  It was something I'd been looking forward to
the whole trip home.  Simple as it was, this was what I'd been craving and
my homesickness melted away a little more with each bite.
   As we talked over dinner I found Mama and Pops had taken the room
downstairs since Bo and Emma weren't going to use it.  His leg being broken
was the main reason, but I could see the years on him.  Working like he had
all this time seemed to be taking a toll.  Our mom looked just slightly
older than Emma to my eyes but I'm a terrible judge of a woman's age.
   The longer hours of the summer had the sun still up after Emma served up
some maple shortbread cake she'd made just for me.  The cake was still warm
and Mama topped it off with homemade vanilla ice cream which began melting
almost at once.
   "You're going to spoil the boy," Emma said as Mom gave me a second
scoop.
   "My second Mama," I said and everyone laughed.
   The love in that room couldn't be matched any place on earth as far as I
was concerned.  This was why I'd come home, why I'd needed to come home. 
Later that evening in the family room, I remembered a slightly different
saying more clearly than I ever had when I'd read the book by Thomas Wolfe,
'You Can't Go Home Again'.
   It occurred when I asked, "Has anyone heard from Luke or John?"
   They were my older brothers and I knew "We don't talk about them!" but
I'd brought it up on my first night home.  Love in our home had boundaries.
I had heard descriptions of my brothers being quite a handful, but I barely
remembered them.  They'd both gone off to war before I was six months old.
They were helping Pops on the farm when they got drafted.  I never knew
what the whole disagreement was about and maybe that was why I always
blundered back into it.  Emma shot me a rueful glance when I'd spoken the
words and then shook her head as the predictable response came.
   They didn't want to talk about them, they hadn't come back to the farm
and they'd settled in San Francisco with their wives.  It seemed like it
was twofold: disappointment and maybe some racial prejudice.  It didn't
seem like the whole story; there must have been something more to have them
so disavowed.  Our parents were fairly religious and I suspected that was
at the root of it, but Emma had been with a man for several years, even in
this very home.  Somehow she'd escaped their disapproval, so I wondered
what they saw as worse.  It was a mystery that even Emma didn't seem to
fathom.
   My twin brothers, Luke and John, had married twin sisters, Cam and Anh,
during the war.  They'd all flown from San Francisco to Vermont so they
could attend my high school graduation and both couples had given me a bit
of money to help me get some kind of a vehicle for use during college. 
They'd done that over Pops' loud objections.  They hadn't stayed in our
home, after that fight; they'd stayed with our father's younger brother
James in Burlington.  Uncle Jimmy seemed to be on the outs with our parents
as well, so I guess it'd made some sense, to avoid conflict.
   I suppose every family has some deep dark secret, but eventually I'd
thought, they'd make peace with them and come to some understanding.  That
hadn't happened here.  The furor from my question finally settled down
after a bit and I listened to them tell several fresh stories about the new
neighbors' silly mistakes in farming.  They repeated some of my favorite
stories about Emma taking care of me when she got back from college, too.
The evening was coming to an end with everyone in a generally good mood
despite my earlier mistake.
   Once the sun had been down for about an hour, Emma said, "Well, I've
gotta get to bed.  There's eggs to gather in the morning and chores to do."
   "I think I'm going to head off, myself," I said.  "It was a long trip
and I need to try and get on east coast time."
   Everyone said their good nights and I followed Emma up the stairs.  We
took our turns in the bathroom and I went to my bedroom to go to sleep. 
Emma, came around shortly after I'd turned out the light.
   My door cracked open and she whispered, "You asleep, Squirt?"
   "No, I just thought I should try and get on the time here.  I probably
won't be able to go to sleep for another three hours."
   "Mind if I come in?"
   "Sure, what's up?" I asked, turning on my nightstand lamp, sitting up in
my bed and propping myself upon a spare pillow.
   She came in and closed the door quietly behind her, then sat on the
floor beside my bed.  She had on a short and very lightweight summer gown
that didn't leave much to the imagination.  It showed off a great deal of
her cleavage and the way she was sitting, cross-legged on the floor, gave
me an unrestricted view of her white panties.  An initial furtive daring
glance at the region revealed several tufts of golden escapees, and I
attempted to focus on her face.  At that moment, I noticed two things: she
looked very much like Madame Soliel with her golden but straight hair and
she was staring at my crotch, which is when I noticed a third thing; I had
a sudden erection.  The sheet hid it from view, but it was lifting the
white linen up and the lamplight caught it and cast an odd shadow.
   It was slightly embarrassing, but I didn't try to cover it or will it
away.  She wasn't commenting about it, so I just cast my gaze back toward
her.  Her cleavage drew my eye momentarily until I noticed that her nipples
were prominently poking out the loose gown.  My windows were open, but the
air coming in was not really cool.  I wondered for a moment if we were
simply going to stare at one another's excited bodies.
   Emma finally broke the silence, "You've grown up to be a handsome young
man."
   This caught me completely off guard.  We usually traded barbs, not
admiring stares and complements.  I went along with this, but had no idea
what she wanted.
   "Well, I think Bo's and idiot; any man would be lucky to be with you."
   "I think you actually mean that, don't you?"
   "We haven't always gotten along, but you've always - always been there
when I needed you.  You even told me about Jenny before it happened, I just
didn't want to believe it.  After the break up, you even went as my date
for prom."
   "I had fun and since we're admitting stuff, you told me about Bo, the
first time you met him."
   "Sorry."
   "Don't be.  I should have listened to your instincts," she said this and
shifted her crossed legs to an even wider angle so her legs were foot to
foot.  "Love is blinding, but he didn't return my love either," she fell
silent and looked away.
   The silence was deafening and I suddenly found it impossible to look
anywhere but her crotch.  I could now feel myself becoming more erect as I
stared.  There was more golden hair visible as her panties allowed more
escapees but there was something else that I hadn't expected.  The
lamplight also caused the terrain of her mons and vulva to become very
apparent with the light and shadow it created there.  I tried to look away,
but her lips were swollen creating a crease and in the cleft I could detect
that her clit was excited too.  After several minutes she recovered and
returned her gaze to my situation which brought the briefest of smirks.
   "You know you shouldn't have brought up John and Luke."
   "I don't get it, I never got it and I still don't!" I said in a loud
whisper.
   "Me either, sweetie.  They're both great guys and their wives are cute
as can be."
   "What's their beef with Uncle Jimmy?"
   "You're more like him than Pops and I think they wanted you to take over
the farm."
   "Yeah, well that wasn't ever going to happen and doubly so after Jenny."
   "You didn't say much about your love life in the truck."
   "That's because there isn't much to tell."
   "You're over her by now, right?"
   "Yeah, I'm focused on graduating next spring."
   "There are some women on that campus, aren't there?"
   "Yes, of course.  I'm not really very skilled at social interaction with
them though," I said.
   My thoughts wandered back to Madame Soliel for the briefest of moments.
God, she had been so beautiful in that white sunlit dress.  Her curly
golden locks, so stuck in my mind's eye, reminded me very much of Emma, who
was talking to me again.  As I realized this, my eyes suddenly refocused
back to her gown and then her crotch.
   "What were you saying?" I asked, unable to pull my stare away to look
her in the face.
   "I was asking if there were anyone there you found attractive?"
   I felt a little trapped with my eyes engaging her there while she asked
me about my love life and women.  I could feel a blush rushing over my
whole body.  I was completely nude beneath the sheet and the question made
my member twitch, jerking the linen upward lightly.
   "The women I'm attracted to lately, seem to be unattainable."
   "Oh - okay, so there are some?"
   "Attractive women?  Yes, there are but they don't even know I exist."
   "Surely, that's not true."
   "Okay, they might know I exist, but they don't know I'm interested."
   "Well, we'll have to work on that," she said getting up.
   As she did her gown drooped open and I saw her breasts.  She stood up
quickly and flung her hair backward.  I just stared at her wondering if
she'd done it on purpose.  Really, all of it felt vaguely out of character,
but especially the sitting cross-legged and then open legged.
   "That's all you wanted to talk about?" I asked, disappointed she was
leaving so soon.
   "I've been in here nearly half an hour; we can talk some more tomorrow
during chores and stuff."
   Apparently unaware of the time, I dejectedly replied, "Alright..."
   When she leaned over to give me a kiss, I'd initially thought she was
aiming for my cheek like in the truck, but it went right on my lips.  Her
lips were soft and moistened, her hand was on my shoulder, her belly just
barely touched me and I was suddenly stiffening against her.  She stood
straight again breaking our brief embrace.
   "We have the whole summer..." she offered.  "Good night."
   "Good night, Emma."
   Then she turned my light off and walked back toward the door where the
hall light shown beneath and basked the room in a dim light.  Opening it
the light put her figure on display again until she disappeared behind the
closed door.  I watched her feet head down the hall and the light go out. I
lay awake in the utter darkness for some time, thinking about the odd chat
we'd had.  It wasn't completely out of the blue; she'd had a similar talk
with me that winter before Jennie broke up with me.  Although, we'd been
dressed more warmly.  She'd had on a long flannel gown that night and I
hadn't thought of her in a sexual way.  She'd simply been a concerned
sister, trying to warn her brother he was about to get his heart broken.  I
guess word travels quickly in a small town, even when people are separated
by some distance.
   Tonight felt different and I was charged with curiosity and desire. 
What'd just happened?  It was a feeling akin to what I'd felt for Madame
Soliel; it was a definite attraction, but it wasn't simply unattainable,
this was absolutely forbidden.  I wondered if it were just the similarity
of their looks or if there were something deeper than that.  The biggest
thing that kept me awake, was the memory of our kiss.  Her lips had been so
soft, and the kiss while sweet and loving, had seemed to linger.  My
perception might have been askew after glimpsing a full unobstructed view
of her breasts.
   Sleep eluded me another half an hour after she'd left, so I turned the
light back on, got out my sketch pad and drawing pencil.  I committed the
image I had of Emma sitting open legged to paper.  The sketch seemed to
discharge right out of my pencil tip exactly as I saw it etched in my
memory.  A second sketch of her leaning over as she'd gotten up followed
quickly.  Flipping back and forth as I looked at the finished works, I
realized that I had included erotic details of her crotch in one and her
nipples in the other.  I hadn't focused on them specifically when drawing,
but now, I worried that Emma might find these unbecoming, so I stashed the
pad between my mattress and box springs.  Finally, I began to feel a little
sleepy and turned off the light.
   I drifted off at some point, but awoke with a start during the night. 
My erection was diminishing and my sheet was damp.  It hadn't happened like
that in a long while.  I usually took care of it ahead of time these days,
but the taboo of doing that immediately after being excited over my
sister's state of dress had put me off remedying it.  I rolled over on my
side full of guilt.  Sleep came again, but it was fitful.
   Morning arrived very early and Emma was in my room shaking me awake
before the sun was up.  When I opened my eyes they were met with the image
of her in that gown and the crotch of her panties was right next to my
face. I averted my eyes downward only to see my morning erection poking up
toward the ceiling.  It was on full display since I'd evidently kicked off
the sheet entirely during the night.  She'd seemed to ignore it initially,
but looked directly at it as she must have realized that the tip still had
some dried residue visible.  I swung my legs out of the bed and sat up to
conceal it a bit as she remained waiting.  It was true that we didn't stand
on ceremony around here much, but her observation of me felt unusual again
as it had last night.
   "Sorry, I'm going to get dressed," she finally said and left the room.
   I dressed quickly and took a bathroom trip before I met her downstairs.
She was in the kitchen where she had fixed us each a glass of milk and a
piece of toast with strawberry preserves.  We ate quickly so we could get
started on the day's chores and headed out into the predawn twilight.  Emma
led us out through the mudroom which now contained a new washer and dryer
and down the steps.  First on the list, as usual, was gathering eggs from
the hen house.  It was situated just far enough from our home to prevent
smell, disease or disturbances.  The morning air was thick with dew and
there was a slight chill.
   When we reached the coop, Emma said, "I've got two dozen going right
now. We've been selling some of the extra eggs to a farmers market.  I'm
trying some Australorp chicks in the other pen."
   Dad had generally kept about a dozen Plymouth Rock chickens.  They were
good for both laying eggs and their meat.  I presumed Emma was the one that
suggested taking on more variety, but I didn't ask her right then.
   "What are we adding today?"
   "Dad's been doing meal worms once a week and that's today."
   When we finished gathering eggs, we had ten to take to the house.  I
carried them in and met her back out by the coop and helped put out the
food.  She had a bag of the worms that she sprinkled into their feed.  Then
we cleared out their water and filled it fresh from the well.  When I was
smaller, we'd hand pumped it, but Pops had upgraded it during my freshman
year in high school to use a motor to lift it.
   The morning sun was breaking through light clouds on the eastern horizon
as we headed to the shed to gather buckets and gloves before heading into
the field.  Our father had always planted a varied crop.  We had around two
hundred acres and generally he planted hay, sweet corn and potatoes.  There
was always a medium sized garden beside the house where they grew other
vegetables to freeze and can.  These along with the chickens were generally
to keep them self-sufficient.  We also had a decent sized stand of maple
trees, probably around four hundred, and a small apple orchard of about a
hundred old trees and twenty or so saplings.  Most people get the idea that
farmers put the crops in the ground and watch them grow, but there's a lot
more to it than that.
   Today Emma and I were going to be walking the corn checking for bugs,
grubs and any kind of infection (smut or root rot).  We'd be doing this
periodically throughout the growth period and then monitoring for earworm,
caterpillars, cutworms, aphids and other pests as the plants matured, right
up until harvest.
   Emma came back from college with a degree in agriculture when I was
starting kindergarten around age five.  She was fairly expert in all the
different things that might go wrong agriculturally.  The corn plants were
barely a hand high, but things can go wrong rapidly when the plants are
young and tender.  All manner of insects and animals think they are tasty.
Raccoons were one of the things we'd had trouble with in the past, so we
kept our eyes open for tracks as we walked the soft dusty soil rows.
   The early morning was the best time to do this work as the cool day gave
way to warmth quickly.  We'd been out in the field for a couple of hours
when I started to fade a little.  I was walking several rows over from Emma
and I'd been daydreaming about Madame Soliel again.  I couldn't get over
how similar they looked and I kept losing sight of the plants as I gazed
over at my older sister.  With the exception of her straight hair and
tanned skin, she looked like my professor and my professor looked like a
very slightly younger version of Mama.  I don't know why, but age is a
mystery to me.  I'd come full circle on my conclusion that it'd be crazy to
chase after Madame Soliel if she's anywhere near my mother's age.  But she
didn't look that much older than Emma.
   "You're walking on plants over there."
   "Oh, sorry, I lost track," I replied, as I got back in the groove and
set the plants back straight.
   She looked over at me and I couldn't tell if she was angry or not.  I
hadn't meant to walk on the plants and it'd only been a few indirect steps;
they'd probably recover.  There seemed to be a question in her that she
wasn't asking.
   "What?"
   "What, what?"
   "What did you want to talk about?" I asked finally.
   "I just - I don't know."
   "Come on Emma, you clearly wanted to talk about something just now?"
   "It's silly and you already told me part of what I wanted to know last
night," she said, as she started on down the row.
   I thought about what I said to her last night and couldn't quite put
together what I told her.  "Wait, what did I tell you?" I asked after
drawing a blank.
   She didn't answer me and just kept walking the row.  It was frustrating
but I tried to let it go.  She kept up a fairly brisk pace as I lagged her
slightly.  Every once in a while she bent to pluck a weed or put a grub in
the bucket.  I stopped and watched nearly every time she did it, as I tried
to properly work the row I was on too.  It had been fairly blatant and
she'd seen me watching her on a number of occasions.
   When noon was approaching, we took a break and headed back to the farm
house for lunch.  Emma toasted us bread while I sliced off some of the
leftover meatloaf for sandwiches.  We had some milk and chips to go along
with it and Mama joined us at the table.
   "You two have been up and at it today."
   "Yes, she's not taking it easy on me."
   "I'm going into town for a few things, either of you need anything?"
   "Maybe some sunscreen, Paul's already starting to burn."
   "You need to wear your hat out there, too."
   "Okay, I'll get it before I go back out."
   When Mama had left, I asked, "Can she drive the truck?"
   "She doesn't like to, but she's got no other choice."
   I considered what she'd said as we finished eating.  The station wagon
wasn't going to get fixed by itself and I could probably tackle it.  I'd
never seen our mom drive the truck with its difficult manual steering and
manual transmission.  We had just been focusing on farm work, but there
were other ways I could help here, especially with Pops laid up.  We washed
dishes together that evening, well she washed, I dried and put away.  When
we finished she suggested we watch a little TV.
   Mama and Pops had gone back in the new bedroom to watch their shows, so
Emma and I had the old set to ourselves.  We saw the end of the news and
then watched a rerun of 'I Dream Of Genie' on the UHF channel.  It was nice
to relax a little with her and the silly show distracted me from some
disturbing thoughts I'd had during the day.
   When it went off, I said, "I'm going to get showered and go to bed.  You
want to go first or after?"
   "You can go first, I've got some laundry to deal with in my room."
   Heading up the stairs, I wondered about that comment.  Mama usually did
the laundry, but the thought quickly went away as I gathered my robe and
went to shower.  I undressed and put the dirty clothes in the hamper, while
the water warmed up.  In the shower, soapy warm water washed the day's work
down the drain in brownish discolored swirls.  I finished quickly to leave
Emma some water, got out, dried off, put on my robe and went to my room.
   After the long day's work, I'd expected to be exhausted and I was
physically tired, but I couldn't turn off my mind.  When I pulled back the
crisp clean sheets, I realized what laundry she'd meant.  She'd put clean
sheets on my bed.  And as I'd pulled the top sheet from beneath the pillow,
I found an old white cloth that she must have put there for me.  It was
nice, but odd and I must have lay there for an hour before I decided to
draw again.
   Tonight's sketch was another one of Emma.  I drew her as I'd seen her
from the side and behind as she bent to pluck a weed in the field today. 
Her tank top had hung open just a bit, the bra strap had fallen down
exposing a large portion of the side of her breast.  Most of the main part
of the sketch was complete, I'd gotten the weed, details of her fingers,
the gap between her jean shorts and the delicate inflection where her butt
cheek met her leg and curved inward toward her crotch.  I was just about to
put the finishing touches on the background crop row and landscape when my
door opened.
   "Whatcha doing, Squirt?"
   "Nothing," I said startledly, as I attempted to shove the thick pad
beneath my pillow.  I wondered if my light had drawn her attention or if
she was having trouble sleeping too.
   "What's that you've got there?" she asked, as she closed the door and
proceeded toward my bed.
   "I'm - um - I've just been sketching a little."
   "Oh, can I see?"
   "Uh - okay, but you're probably not going to like them."
   "I've always liked your drawings even when you were like five.  Show me
how good you've gotten."
   Hesitantly, I pulled the half hidden tablet from beneath the pillow and
scooted over to make space for her to sit beside me.  My hip became exposed
in the process and it drew further up as she joined me on the bed.  I
opened to the first page in the sketchbook and handed it to her so she
could flip through them herself.  I leaned anxiously against her awaiting
judgment but was instantly distracted by the smell of her hair.  In a flash
I realized it was akin to opening one of her care packages.  That wonderful
aroma flooded my mind as I blankly watched her carefully turning the thick
pages.
   "Are all of these from the University of Washington?"
   "Mostly and some areas around there.  That's one of the bay," I said, as
she turned to a new one.
   She continued flipping through them.  There were sketches of all kinds
of things that'd caught my eye: several of the fountain on the quad, trees
in various stages of foliage, park benches, flowers and more flowers
especially tulips.  There were only a few that depicted people in the
bunch, where there were, they were rough, not portraits and often just
couples that were captured within the landscape.  The first true portrait
was of Madame Soliel and it was the one which I'd drawn from memory.  She
lingered on that page for a long while, but didn't ask who she was or why
I'd drawn her.  There were three more of her that were less detailed, one
of her by the fountain and two more as she'd been teaching.
   When she finally flipped through the next pages, I said, "I drew those
on the bus."
   There were mountains, fields and forests and some storefronts that I
thought were cool.  Then it happened, there wasn't much I could do about
it, I knew it was coming.  She turned the page and there was the picture of
her with her feet together sitting on the floor in my room.  Her face went
crimson, but she didn't say anything.  She looked at it a long time, so
long I began thinking I should apologize.  I'd captured a variety of
illicit details throughout, but particularly in the area of her crotch.  I
worried about what she might be thinking, when she turned the page and saw
herself bent toward me with her breasts dangling inside the same short
loose gown she had on again tonight.  I'd drawn them with all of the
fullness and excited details I'd remembered.
   I looked up to see her eyes meet mine momentarily before she turned back
to look at it.  There was something within her gaze I didn't understand.  I
knew it wasn't ire, but I couldn't guess what she was thinking.  Well, her
face remained slightly red, so I'm sure she felt embarrassed like I did,
although maybe not to the same extent.  Letting her look through these
exposed more than just my deepest thoughts, it let her see herself mirrored
in my mind.
   When she finally turned the page, she slowly went through the next
sketches: some of the Australorp chicks, the shed with the station wagon on
the carrier and one of the farm house from out by the big maple tree.  Then
she came upon my last drawing, the one I'd been drawing tonight.  She
lingered on it for longer than the first one of herself.  The swarm of
butterflies in my stomach began to feel as though they might roil up and
out onto the bed.  I was certain there was going to be some kind of fallout
from what I'd depicted.  I'd only drawn things as I'd seen them, but the
details I'd chosen to include or exclude were what I expected would upset
her.  People were harder to draw for me, because I became very attached to
the drawings.
"There's one missing; did you throw it away?" she asked, pulling me back
from my concerns.
   "Oh - um - no..." I choked the words out.  "I - uh - I gave it to the
subject."
   "So it was a person?"
   "Yes, it was the woman you saw towards the beginning."
   It was the only woman I'd drawn besides Emma.  Not just in this book,
but in all of my recent sketch pads.  There'd been couples or groups of
people, but no individuals in quite a while.  I couldn't remember when or
why I'd stopped, maybe it was my withdrawal from people after my breakup
with Jenny, although I couldn't remember if I'd drawn her.  Drawing a
single person was definitely more personal and I only seemed to do it for
the ones that really had some effect on me.  I was sure I'd drawn portraits
in some of my other sketch books, I'd have to look through them and see. 
She was being silent for a long while as she sat there holding the pad. 
Then she flipped back through to Mme Soliel again and looked at the sunlit
portrait and the missing remnant in front.
   "You drew this right after you gave the other one to her."
   "Yes."
   "From memory, right?"
   "Yes."
   "You didn't want to lose the one you'd given, so you drew a better one."
   "Uh-huh."
   Then she flipped to the one of herself seated on my floor, and asked,
"And this is how you see me?"
   "I'm sorry, Emma.  I shouldn't -"
   "What are you going on about?  It's the biggest complement I think I've
ever had from anyone."
   "You like it?"
   "Very much - I don't see myself like this.  That's not what's in my
mirror.  It's flipped from the self-image in my mind and this woman is
beautiful to me."
   "You want them?"
   "No - no..." she trailed off and was quiet.  "But I would like you to
draw me at least one of my own," she said at length.
   "Would you sit for me?"
   "Yes.  I would like for you to draw me from your point of view.  You
have a real talent for people.  Your landscapes and buildings are nice but
you really capture the people you sketch.  I haven't met any of the other
people, but I imagine they would all be very flattered by your renderings."
   I hadn't really drawn people, just the two women but I didn't correct
her statement.  "I was worried you would be offended."
   "Was the woman offended?"
   "No - but - it wasn't quite like these."
   "Did you offer it or did she ask for it?"
   "She saw it accidentally and I offered it to her," I said as I thought
back to that day by the fountain.  "She requested that I sign it."
   "See?  I'm telling you, I don't know why you're getting a degree in
business.  I get that you want to escape from the farm.  I thought that at
one time too, but this is my home; it's where I belong.  You - you don't
really belong here.  I don't mean you aren't welcome or wanted, this simply
isn't where you should be.  You're going to be great out there in the
world."
   Her praise of me had me hugging her tightly and I could feel dampness
between her shoulder and my chin.  She smelled so nice, clean and feminine,
I remained like that a while.
   I never really understood why she came back to the farm.  So many of our
neighbors kids had fallen into that same trap and Emma had always seemed to
have such a free spirit.  She'd taken me with her to Woodstock, when I was
six, to see all of the groups play for free.  After the show, she'd met a
guy who needed a ride home to Roxbury.  I'd enjoyed having her all to
myself, but remembered feeling slightly jealous when I got relegated to the
back seat during the trip home.  That must have been over fifteen years
ago, but I could remember the fun it'd been seeing all those groups
perform. What stuck out though, was the first part of the trip, and getting
to see her enjoy herself.  It'd been one of those life changing events that
I held dear in my memory.
   "You going all soft on me?"
   "Just remembering some other times you let me know you loved me."
   "Oh yeah?  When was that?"
   "There are too many to count: first day in kindergarten, Woodstock,
school projects of all types, prom, graduation and so many others.  It
feels like you came back from college to take care of me and now you're
stuck here."
   "I did no such thing."
   "One of these days, you're going to stop being so gruff.  I hope I'm
there to experience it."
   She mussed my hair and turned to hug me back.  Her warm embrace was
comforting but short lived as she climbed from the bed.  Self-consciously,
I realized the sheet was now barely covering me as she bent to kiss me
goodnight.  Her arm made direct contact and I felt myself twitch as she
stood back up.  There upon her face was something, not a smirk, maybe
surprise or a smile.  It crossed her mouth and was quickly gone.
   Then she said, "I do love you, Squirt."
   "I love you too, Emma.  Good night."
   When she'd gone out I pulled the cover over my hard on and turned back
to the picture of her in the field.  I worked a while to finish up some
missing details.  When I was done, I flipped back to my favorite one of Mme
Soliel and then back and forth several times.  A yawn told me I was finally
ready to sleep, so I put the pad back under my mattress and turned off the
lamp.  As I drifted off to sleep, their uncanny resemblances mixed in my
imagination as I dreamt.
   There in the mist, I found Madame Soliel in my room, sitting open legged
on the floor.  When she arose, I'd thought she was turning to leave, but
instead she'd dropped her gown and come to my bed fully nude.  As she
lifted the covers, my stiff erection welcomed her grasping fingers.  When
she whispered for me to kiss her, there was the faintest of accents.  I
couldn't comprehend what she was doing here in my room and bed but I kissed
her soft moist lips.  Her tongue found mine and her hand stroked my cock as
she encouraged me to enter her velvety opening.  It slid blissfully within
her and I broke the kiss to watch.  Madame Soliel was in my bed writhing
upon my engorged cock with her naughty French slang whispered into my ear.
Baise-moi Paul...  Fuck me with your beautiful young cock.
   When I went to stroke her hair, the long flowing golden curls melted
away and became straight waist length hair.  Her shape seemed slightly more
muscular and I realized that I was with Emma.  Her breathing was becoming
very erratic and she moaned 'Paul' repeatedly.  It was frightening to
discover how much I was enjoying this, but I was soon overcome by lust.  My
thrusts became urgent and I moaned a reply.  I'm going to cum Emma.  Oh
fuck, you're making me cum.
   Startled awake by the sound of my own voice, I found Emma standing over
me in the dim light of my lamp.  "Paul?  Are you okay?" she asked gently
touching my cheek.
   "Huh?  What?"
   "I think you were having a dream."
   I'd kicked my sheet completely off and my cock strained as it twitched
out the remainder of my release onto my belly.  Quickly, I grabbed the
cloth to cover my embarrassment.  "Sorry, Emma, I -"
   "No, I'm sorry, you kept calling my name and I thought you needed me -"
she broke off and retreated toward the door.
   "Is it time to get up already?"
   "No, I was up using the restroom," she said before she closed the door.
   Having had her see me ejaculate during a nocturnal emission dream was
very embarrassing but the feeling of that faded as I dwelt upon her soft
response.  She'd changed somehow; she wasn't the same gruff guardian
anymore.  I suspected her breakup with Bo had done more damage than she was
letting on.  My dream weighed on me with a sudden pang of guilt and a
wonderment of how much I might have said aloud for her to hear and how long
she might actually have been standing there.
   I drifted back into sleep and dreamt more.  These dreams weren't erotic
however, but filled with the warmth of feeling loved.  Some of my friends
had made fun of me when I'd shown up to prom with Emma, but others had
looked at her longingly.  She'd had a beautiful dress and her hair was even
longer then.  I'd really appreciated her intervention after my breakup with
Jenny; she'd made me go to the dance, insisted on coming and danced with me
in a beautiful open backed dress and plunging neck that showed off her
bountiful cleavage.  That memory stuck with me when I awoke in the morning,
well before it was time for us to get ready.
   It wasn't that I had adjusted to the east coast time zone.  No, it was
subconscious worry that she would see me with the massive erection I was
sporting again this morning.  My trip to the bathroom required that I
relieve myself before I could relieve myself.
   Timing had Emma knocking on the door and asking, "Everything okay in
there?" just at the moment I climaxed.
   My moan had probably worried her, but now her soft and caring voice
again linked her in my mind with a powerful release.  I delayed my response
as the pressure subsided and I was finally able to go.
   "Paul, are you alright?"
   "I'll be right out, sorry," I responded raggedly.
   When I came out, I was immediately aware that she knew.  She passed me
going in with a grin and a little redness in her cheeks.  There was nothing
to do about it, so I proceeded downstairs and prepared us a quick breakfast
of scrambled eggs, toast and milk.  When she joined me I got a warm
intoxicating hug and some thanks for cooking.
   The morning went a lot like the previous and today we were finishing up
the second half of the corn field.  I did a little better on staying
focused today and we finished up around 11:00 AM.  We were back in the
house where Mama was fixing a soup for dinner.  While she stirred and
continued to add items, she made Emma and I a couple of tomato sandwiches.
They were some of the ones they'd grown in the hothouse, but they were ripe
and tasty.
   That afternoon as we stood on the front porch letting our lunch settle,
I told Emma, "Today, I'm going to take a look at the car, while you work in
the vegetable garden, okay?"
   A big grin formed on her mouth.  I took that to mean she was good with
it.  So, I started down the steps.
   Before my feet were in the grass, I heard, "I guess I knew you'd get
around to that soon enough."
   I turned to say, "Well, even if Pops can't drive it, I should get it
usable again."
   "Mama will appreciate it, she's never liked driving the truck."
   I spent the remainder of the afternoon removing the front wheels,
loading them into the truck and taking them in to town to have them
replaced with some money Mama gave me.  When I got back it was nearly
dinner time, but I went ahead and put them on before going inside.  Then I
got the keys and tested that everything still worked.  The steering was
pulling a little to the right, so there was probably a bent tie rod, I'd
have to see if I could straighten it out, but at least it could be driven.
   Back inside the soup was smelling really good as I went up to shower
before dinner.  I had grease and dirt all over me and I headed into the
bathroom straight away.  It took a while to get it all off, but I used the
Lava soap to get the bulk of it.  When I was finished, I stepped from the
shower to find clean shorts, a shirt and underwear again.  As I dried off,
I wondered if it were Emma or Mama setting these things out for me.
   At dinner we ate our soup along with open face grilled cheese
sandwiches. Pops ate in his room tonight, his foot was bothering him
something fierce.  Mama said she was going to take him back to the Doc
tomorrow to see if something else was wrong.  I told her that the wagon was
drivable but she'd need to be careful since it pulled to the right.  I
suggested that the truck would be safer, but knew what she'd probably
choose.
   After dinner I helped with dishes again and went to bed shortly after.
As I crawled into bed, I took the cloth from beneath my pillow and dealt
with myself in hopes that I wouldn't have any further embarrassing
episodes. As I worked myself beneath the sheet I closed my eyes and tried
to think of someone - anyone that wasn't like Emma or Mme Soliel.  As hard
as I tried every time I got close, the image of one or the other would come
back to my mind.  Finally just accepting it, I allowed the memory of Emma's
breasts to be the focus of my masturbatory fantasy.  As I climaxed, I
allowed her name to escape my lips, and caught the ejaculate in the cloth.
Moments afterward, I put the cloth back under my pillow and went straight
to sleep.
   After a couple weeks of me being home, we'd gotten into a fairly regular
routine and Emma didn't need to get me up each morning.  We met downstairs
in the kitchen for breakfast, started with gathering eggs and feeding the
chickens.  Then we'd be out into whatever was on our rotation.  There
hadn't been anymore accidental incidents and Emma had stayed away from my
room for the last week or so.  Well, that wasn't quite right, she'd been
replacing the cloth I used every few days, but I hadn't asked her about it,
because of the previous embarrassments.
   This particular early June day the temperature was getting pretty high
and we had really worked up a sweat.  The work load had been fairly heavy
today and Emma was looking to have a break.  So, was I, she'd been working
us like this without much let up.  The garden was coming along pretty
nicely and we were starting to pick a few different vegetables: squash,
cucumbers, tomatoes and some other items that had gotten a head start in
the hothouse.
   We were coming out the front door, Emma had sweat running off her head
and her long golden hair was dripping wet and plastered to her shoulders. I
could see she was hot, but it felt like she was trying to prove something
to me with the pace she was keeping.  It was a little after noon, Mama was
off to town with the repaired station wagon and Pops was still nursing his
broken foot, hobbling around the house.  He wasn't much of a cook and he'd
mostly just taken to whittling out birds.  He was pretty good at making
ducks, geese and other water fowl, so some of the locals would pay pretty
well for his decoys.  He was sitting in the swing on the front porch
working on a new one, when we'd carried in the latest produce from the
garden.
   I think Pops noticed too, and wryly suggested, "You two are getting as
ripe as them vegetables.  Maybe you should go jump in the lake."
   "Very funny, Pops," she answered.  "But actually, I was thinking the
same thing."
   "You just finished saying you wanted a break," I encouraged her.
   "Yeah, we've gotten enough done today.  You've really been helping me
get caught up."
   We stood there in the summer warmth watching Pops whittle awhile.  She
seemed to be thinking about it some more and then she was walking toward
the truck.
   "Let's go, Squirt," she said to me.  "We'll be back in a while to fix
dinner," she called to Pops, as she opened the truck's driver side door.
   I followed her and hopped in beside her.  "I think we've both earned a
break," I said hopefully.
   Pulling away from the house, she said, "Yeah, you're a pretty good farm
hand, maybe even better than Bo.  If you ever decide to give up on being a
businessman, you can always come back here and be a farmer and an artist on
the side."
   "You can see what farming has done to Pops right?"
   "What about me?  You think I'm looking worn out too?"
   It was an odd question and it made me look at her in a slightly
different light again.  That first two nights at home had left some
lingering thoughts I'd had difficulty shaking.  Now she was inviting me to
evaluate her.  She had on a tank top with a white bra underneath, and a
pair of cut off shorts.  Her skin was tan and that was the major difference
between her and Mme Soliel, aside from age, which I could only barely
distinguish.  All women seemed attractive to me and age didn't seem to
register unless they were very young or old.  She drove across the property
beyond the sugar maples and up a slight hill.
   "I think you look good for a big sister," I answered trying to be
diplomatic and vague.
   "But do I look worn out like Dad?"
   "He's been doing this for quite a while.  You're a woman and you're
beautiful.  If I didn't know what your age was, it'd be a mystery to me."
   "Flatterer."
   As she started downhill into the small valley, which enclosed the more
natural part of the forest, I looked over at her.  The bouncing of the
truck made her chest do the same and I found myself thinking about the
first night.  Today her white tank top was a little dirty, but still white
and her sweat had made certain aspects of her attire more interesting.  She
glanced over at me and shook her head.
   "Well, I meant what I said earlier and if I weren't your brother, I'd
probably ask you out," I said trying to emphasize that I thought she was
attractive but off limits.
   "That's sweet," she said.
   We remained silent until we arrived at the lake.  When I'd been there
last we'd both swam in our shorts.  Today, she exited the truck and then
peeled off her tank-top and pants.  She tossed them on the seat with her
sandals and started running.
   "Last one in, is a squirt."
   I had to laugh, I'd been set up to fail.  I stripped off my shoes,
socks, shirt and pants and followed her down.  She was already on the tire
swinging out over the lake when I reached the water's edge.  As the tire
reached the farthest point in its arc, she dove off into the water.  I
watched her enter and the wave she created came in to lap at the edge of
the lake.  I walked slowly out into it until the muddy bottom dropped off
and then I continued to swim toward her.  She was floating on her back and
doing some back strokes when I reached her.  The water had made her bra
almost transparent and my eyes were drawn to the perky pink points that
stood upon her chest.
   She noticed me looking, but didn't say anything about it.  Despite the
fact that the water was still quite cool, I found that I was getting an
erection and my face flushed too.  I kept swimming out toward the middle
where my brothers and Pops had built a platform dock.  It was pretty far to
swim and when I got there I found Emma was lifting herself out of the water
in front of me.  The dock was used for sitting, fishing and sunning.  The
last one had been what she seemed to have in mind as she lay out on the
weather worn planks.  Now, as I lifted myself out of the water, I found
myself facing her wet pubic mound, which left very little to the
imagination and my erection returned.
   I tried to lay in the sun beside her and ignore it, but the warmth of
the sun and her lying beside me just wasn't letting it go away.
   After a while she sat up and said, "Well, at least I believe what you
said in the truck."
   "Sorry."
   "Don't be, I'm taking it as a complement.  I'd been getting used to the
idea that I'm going to be an old maid and you're kind of telling me that
doesn't have to be the case."
   I wanted to crawl under the dock for a moment, but I could tell she
wasn't upset or annoyed with her pervy little brother's boner.  As I
continued to lie there, I wasn't sure what to do.  I could feel her looking
at me as she leaned back on her arms watching me.  It throbbed so that my
underwear barely constrained it and the tip felt like it was going to creep
out.
   After a time, I heard her moving about and then lie back down to sun
herself.  When about fifteen minutes had passed, I turned to lie on my
stomach and as I did so, I got a bit of a shock.  She was nude.  I guess
when I hadn't been looking, she'd removed not just her bra, but her panties
as well.  That pretty much ruled out my lying face down.  I lie there on my
side staring at her in disbelief.  Her eyes were closed but her soft words
cut through the tranquil silence.
   "Are you thinking of sketching me like this?"
   "I could, unless you don't want me to."
   "I would never try to censor what you draw and I already said I would
sit for you."
   "Yeah, I just didn't expect to render you nude."
   "All the great artists did nudes.  You should try doing me."
   "I'm not really an artist."
   That reply had her sitting up to look me squarely in the eyes, "Yes you
are.  Would you draw me like this from memory tonight?"
   "Okay."
   "You think I could watch?"
   "Um - yeah - I guess."
   She leaned back on her arms and I continued gazing at her nudity.  There
was a knot in my throat and fluttering in my stomach.  Her breasts were
beautifully full and evenly tanned such that there was only a slight change
in the skin tone from her shoulders to her breasts.  Her arms were slightly
darker and her lower legs were as well.  In my position I could just make
out the lips of her pussy, since her legs were spread slightly.
   "You can take yours off and even out your tan too."
   I thought about it and decided it was only fair, I'd been staring at her
for an unknowable amount of time.  The boner in my boxers hadn't diminished
in the least and after I removed them, I leaned back like she was.  It
pointed almost skyward like a sundial.  Emma didn't say anything, but she
did look over at it and when she did it reflexively twitched, which brought
a smile and another shake of her head.
   "How are you going to draw me if all the blood has run out of your
head?"
   "It's confused about which head to run to," I joked.
   After a time, I lay flat.  The erection went down some until it was flat
on my belly and I dozed off.
   A soft touch on my shoulder awoke me and Emma said, "You need to turn or
you're going to burn."
   "Oh, thanks," I said.
   As I rolled onto my side toward her, I watched her watching me.  I
looked down to see my cock was hard again and oozing some fluid at the tip.
Looking back at her, she had a crooked smile on her face that I couldn't
quite figure out.  She was lying on her side with her knee up so that I
could look directly at her pussy now for the first time.  She had a bushy
bunch of golden blond hair there, but her outer lips were full and her long
clitoris protruded outward from her prepuce.
   As I continued to study it, I noticed a glistening below the swollen
lips around the entrance to her vagina and I could smell her.  The air over
the lake was nearly still and the platform was warm.  I ran my eyes slowly
up her body taking in all of her features, the slight pouch in her abdomen,
nearly imperceptible stretch marks along her hip, and the long tightly
crinkled nipples that stood out prominently on her breasts.  When I reached
her eyes, I just felt the love that seemed to pour forth directly from her
soul.
   She broke the trance by lying flat on her stomach and I followed suit,
although uncomfortably for the first few minutes.  It lessened some, but it
was remaining uncomfortable and after a while, I got up and dove off into
the water and swam back toward the tree with the tire swing on it.  When I
reached it, Samson was on the lake watching me come ashore.  As I pulled
the swing up onto the large rock we used for our launching pad, he watched
until I started to swing out over the water and then he dog paddled toward
me.
   When I jumped off the tire into the water, he had nearly reached me and
was heading for the platform, where Emma was sitting up watching us. 
Samson went around to the side where Pops had made a small ramp and he
climbed up it and shook himself off getting her wet.  She let out a shriek
and stood up and dove into the lake with me.  Then right behind her Samson
jumped back into the water with my shorts in his teeth.  He was playing at
something, but when he came to give them to me he dropped them and
continued back to the diving rock.  I rushed to grab them but watched in
dismay as the air bubbled to the surface and the already wet boxers sank
into the water still slightly out of reach.
   "Samson..." I exclaimed.  "Dang-it, those were almost new."
   I dove down trying to see if I could find them, but came up empty
handed. As I surfaced, I discovered that that Emma had swum over too and
right after I caught my breath, she dove down to take a turn.  She didn't
resurface and I moved around trying to see if I could locate her.  When she
finally came back to the surface, her backside slid right up my semi-stiff
cock, which sprang right back with excitement as it leapt between her legs
and the expanding tip brushed against her pussy.
   "Oops.  Well, I found two things," she said handing them back to me and
breathing hard.
   "Thanks for finding them," I said, as she turned to face me even closer.
   My cock was now pressing against her belly, but she didn't rush away as
I'd expected, she just said, "You ready to go or should we take the rest of
the day off."
   "Can we stay?  You've really had us hard at it for the last couple of
weeks.  It's nice here and it's been a while since I've had any fun, like
this."
   "Uh huh, me too."
   We lingered like that for a while, it was as comforting as it was odd. I
could feel the questions she had for me.  She'd already told me she was
going to ask.  With her this close, there seemed to be an additional
pressure.
   "Go ahead and ask; I know it's coming."
   "How long has it been?"
   "It was Christmas break three and a half years ago with Jenny."
   "Seriously, Paul, there hasn't been anyone since then?"
   "I've been focusing on other things."
   "She did a real number on you.  I don't want to say I told you so, but
you remember the dance?"
   "Jenny's prom?" I asked indefinitely, pretending not to fully remember
the fight Jenny and I'd had at her senior prom.
   "You know good and well what I'm talking about.  I told you then, that
you were headed for a heartbreak.  You were too young to be head over heels
in love like that.  Especially with her set to graduate a year ahead of
you."
   She had warned me and her stating it the way she did, brought the
memories of that event clearly into focus.  That was really the first time
she'd warned me.  The next time was right before Jenny's first winter home
from UVM.  Emma's final cautionary words had come the night before I lost
my virginity and Jenny broke up with me a day later.  The shock of those
two consecutive events made Emma's warning even more memorable.
   "I don't know if there's anyone out there for me," I said sadly.
   "You're going to get out of practice if you don't take a chance."
   "Yeah, like that's going to happen around here.  Everyone knows Jenny
dumped me and why.  I don't even know how to interact socially."
   "You could practice being social with me."
   "It'd feel weird, wouldn't it?"
   With that she took me softly into her hand.  "You've heard the phrase
'use it or lose it'?" My cock strained against her grip and finally she
released me.  "Sorry, I shouldn't have."
   "No, you're right, but I don't know what to do about it.  What about
you; are you looking beyond Bo?"
   "No - well - I don't know," she said thoughtfully.  A tear was almost
forming, but she fought it back and looked directly into my eyes, "I took
it pretty hard and I'm not looking to get involved anytime soon.  I don't
know about finding Mr.  Right either, but I'm not ready to give up on
finding someone eventually and neither should you."
   I thought about that as we lingered together.  She wasn't just being
strong for herself, she was telling me I shouldn't give up.  Maybe I should
have heeded her words about Jenny sooner, but it couldn't be undone now. 
Emma had met Bo through a friend from college, shortly before I left for
the University of Washington.  The only other boy I'd seen her with had
been the guy from Woodstock.  He'd visited a few times afterward, but had
moved out to California to chase a music career.
   "Did you have other boyfriends before Bo?" I asked cautiously.
   "Yeah, some.  Lots of guys chased after me in high school.  I went out
with a few, but I wanted to get through school and not end up like Mama -"
she said cutting herself short.
   Neither of our parents had gone past high school.  I assumed that was
what drove Emma.  I waited to have her finish or give some further details.
When none came, I asked, "What about in college?"
   "Some dates and I saw one guy for a while, but I was too young -" she
fell silent again for a long while.  She was deep in thought and when she
spoke she changed the topic back to me.  "You've just had the one, haven't
you?"
   "Yeah - you know - why - um - why she broke up with me, don't you?"
   "She wasn't very nice, Paul.  You shouldn't take her word on much."
   "You think she just said it to be mean?"
   "Maybe not, but who spreads that around a small community."
   "Well, I didn't make her - you know - cum."
   "Everyone is different, you were a virgin, and I don't know what she
expected."
   "She'd already had sex with some guys at college and when I'd been no
good, she just told me how bad I was and broke up.  I thought she loved me
after we'd dated all that time, but I guess it was all for show."
   "I think it's kind of rare to get both love and good sex.  Bo and I had
good sex, but looking back, I don't think he ever loved me."
   "I only got the one shot at it and I don't think I got either."
   Then she took me gently back into her hand, "It's not like this thing
came with a manual."
   Her contact took me by surprise and I sucked in a gasp of air.  The
first time she'd done it seemed joking or playful but this felt different.
It was nice.  It was tender and caring.  I wanted to hold her and ask if
she would.  I was almost willing to beg, I needed to know, but something
inside prevented me.  The shorts in my hand felt awkward and I wanted to
get rid of them.
   Finally instead of asking her to teach me I just said, "I know how mine
works, it's the other one that needs a manual."
   But I didn't give her a chance to respond because even that admission
was too much.  Overwhelmed, I broke away, to swim back to shore.  There I
climbed up by the rock where Samson was sunning, pulled down a higher tree
branch, I was sure he couldn't reach, and I hung my boxers over it to dry.
Then I grabbed the swing, walked it way back and took a running start to
launch out over the lake.  When I was high above the water, I dove off and
created my own huge splash.
   Surfacing in the cool water I felt instantly relieved and invigorated;
being here skinny dipping with Emma wasn't what I'd expected, but I found
myself enjoying it in spite of my previous embarrassment.  The wake of the
wave I created bobbed Emma lightly, but she didn't appear to have moved
from where I'd left her.  She just floated aimlessly as she seemed to be
considering something deeply.  Concerned I might have damaged our special
bonds, I swam back toward her.
   When I reached her, I was about to ask if she were okay.  Before I could
get a word out, she encircled her arms around my neck and wrapped her legs
around my midsection.  The warmth of her against me was wondrous.  Her
pussy was directly atop my rigid cock and she kissed me and I kissed her
back.  It wasn't a tonguing French kiss, but it wasn't a brother-sister
kiss either as our mouths were open slightly and our heads tilted.  After a
moment I felt her rubbing against my rigidness and we broke the kiss. 
Floating face to face she looked deeply into my eyes.
   "Maybe I could show you," she said softly.
   "We can't - it'd -"
   "Well, we could..."
   "What if I got you - um -"
   "You can't; no one can."
   "What?"
   "I can't have kids."
   "What?  How do you know that?"
   "I had some problems shortly after high school and the doctor told me I
can't.  Plus I didn't use protection with Bo for nearly three years."
   "Even so, it'd be -"
   "Yeah, but there's a bunch of that in the 'Good Book'.  Look, you don't
have to decide right now.  If you're not comfortable, I'm not going to
force you.  I'm just saying that I'd be willing to be your learning
partner."
   "Jeez, Emma, this isn't like teaching me to ride a bike or how to
dance."
   "I don't want you to be alone in life and I'm willing -"
   "I don't know," I said as a shiver quaked down my spine.
   "We've got all summer..."
   "I'll think about it."
   We remained entangled like that in the water.  My cock continued to
strain against her until my balls began to ache from the constant erection.
It twitched along her slit, which alerted her to the pained look that must
have been upon my face.
   "Sorry, I wasn't thinking -" she whispered.
   Seeming to realize what was happening, she released me to swim free. 
She headed back to the dock to retrieve her undergarments.  Then floated on
her back to the shallows and walked ashore keeping them above the water the
entire time.  Once there, she went to the truck, pulled out an old towel to
dry off and then put all of her clothing back on.  I watched her standing
there looking out at me as if she were deciding something.  I thought for a
moment that she might drive off without me, but she came back and sat on
the diving rock that Samson must have vacated without me noticing.
   With my erection diminished, I swam towards the rock and climbed up on
it.  After I was mostly dry I replace my boxers from the branch.  I sat
beside Emma, uncertain of where we were.  It was all very confusing and a
million questions tried to escape my mouth.  Why did I want her?  Did she
really want to do that with me?  Wouldn't it be wrong? ...
   "Are you mad at me?" was the one that made it out.
   "No, never.  I hope I didn't scare or scar you, I only want to help."
   We sat for a while looking at the water.  The sun was starting to get
low enough that I knew it was approaching time for us to head back.
   "You sure, you weren't thinking of driving off earlier?"
   "No, I was thinking about how nice it'd be to have something permanent
here besides that old dock.  Some kind of shelter and maybe a stone
fire-pit."
   "That would be nice," I said, not knowing if that was what had really
been on her mind.
   "We could stay longer, maybe even overnight."
   "Yeah, that'd be cool," I replied, as I wondered about her motives. 
"You think Pops would let us build that?"
   "Well, they want me to buy them out, so I figure I'm in charge now."
   "Does Pops know?"
   "Nah, I'll just start getting supplies together, he had some stuff left
over from the addition."
   A little while later she ask me, "Are we okay?"
   "Yes.  I'm thinking about your offer, like I said."
   "Alright, well, we best get back and fix Pops some dinner.  Mama is
going to be out late playing bridge."
   We walked back to the truck.  She hopped into the driver seat and waited
while I put the rest of my clothes back on.  Then she drove us back to the
house.  Pops was back in his bedroom again and said he didn't want to eat.
Emma and I made some dinner anyway, making sure we had enough for him and
Mama if either one wanted some.  She usually got back from her bridge game
around 10:30 PM, so we'd leave her a plate in the refrigerator.  As we made
the dinner we chatted a little and eventually I asked her another question
that was nagging at the back of my mind.
   "You think he's okay?" I whispered.
   "I don't know, it seems like there's something besides his leg and foot
bothering him."
   I helped Emma prepare some of the squash from the garden for dinner.  We
boiled some potatoes to mash and she fried up some liver and onions to
serve over it.  It was on the table by half past six, but Dad didn't join
us.  Emma and I ate in silence that seems slightly foreboding.  Sometimes,
I wished I could read people's minds.
   "This gravy is some of the best I've had in a long time," I said
finally.
   "You like it?"
   "I like all the things you make for me.  I really meant it about the
care packages you send."
   She smiled as she got up to do dishes and I joined her after I wolfed
down the rest of my potatoes.  We worked to get the kitchen straight and
made a plate for Mama.  When we finished, I let Emma get her shower first,
while I went in to check on Pops.
   He was on the bed atop the covers watching a western.  There was a bar
scene shoot out that had the lawman winning.  After the body was carried
off, the Marshal drank a quick shot of whiskey and made some wry comment.
Pops didn't seem to be paying much attention but he looked up when I came
in to the room.
   He seemed kind of down and I asked him, "Isn't there something I could
get you?"
   "I could use a glass of water, but I'd take somethin' stronger if ya
offered."
   I didn't think my dad drank and his request took me by surprise, but I
asked, "Does Mama let you keep anything in the house?"
   "No, not in here."
   "Have you got some hidden in the shed?"
   "It's too far to go on these darn things," he said indicating the
crutches.
   "Tell me where it is and I'll get you some."
   "It's behind the tobacco can, ina mason jar.  Wouldja gemme a couple
fingers of it in a small glass?"
   "Okay, I'll be back in a minute."
   With a glass from the kitchen and a flashlight from the drawer by the
phone, I headed out to the shed.  It was dusk and the moon was out, but
there wasn't much light inside the shed.  Although there was one over the
tractor, it didn't put much light on the workbench.  I wondered if maybe
that was intentional, now that I knew Dad kept a stash.  The shed was like
a small barn, but there wasn't any hay stored in it, there was a real barn
closer to the road, so he could sell bails and load them easily.  Inside
the shed, I flipped on the light, and then the flashlight to look for the
tobacco can.  It was behind a bucket and the mason jar was behind that.  I
opened it up and poured him about half a glass, just a little more than the
width of two fingers, and took it back into him.
   He sipped it slow and said, "Thanks Sonny.  You won't tell Mama 'bout
this."
   "No sir.  Are you feeling okay Pops?"
   "Just this foot - gettin' me down is all."
   "Okay, well, I'm off to bed.  Goodnight," I said, as I bent and gave him
a light hug.
   "Night, Sonny."
   I left his room and headed upstairs to get showered and ready for bed.
His dour mood was uncharacteristic and it worried me.  In the still steamy
bathroom I stripped off my clothes and piled them in the hamper.  As I
washed I was already drawing Emma from memory.  This afternoon's
interaction had me excitedly perplexed about how to proceed, but I could
focus on drawing her.
   When I finished showering, I dried off, hung my towel and headed back to
my room nude.  After the way we'd seen each other this afternoon, it hardly
seemed necessary to cover myself.  I partially closed the door, pulled the
drawing pad from beneath the mattress and crawled into bed beneath the
sheet.  Dusk was quickly becoming night, so I clicked on the light on my
night stand and took up my pencil.
   I was starting to rough in some vivid details of her form as she'd
reclined on the dock in the sun, when she popped into my room.  Tonight she
had a slightly different gown on.  It was even shorter and as she crossed
the space between us, I caught glimpses of her curly golden pubic hair
which peaked out mid-stride and evidently unencumbered by panties.  The
straps were thinner attached to smaller triangles that had the neckline
plunged well below the bottom of her breasts.  Her nipples were taut and
swayed slightly beneath the silky fabric as she approached.  Although I'd
seen her nude, this outfit seemed like something she might have worn for
Bo.
   "Hey, you were going to let me watch," she said as she scooted onto my
bed and leaned against my left arm.
   "Oh, well - um - I can start another one.  This was just fresh in my
memory and -"
   "No, keep going," she interrupted.  After a moment she asked, "What else
would you draw?"
   The thought of her laying on her side with her knee cocked up came to
mind in a flash and the sheet twitched.  I could envision the glistening
moisture around her slit.  "I could draw when you were lying on your side."
   "Hum, yeah.  I forgot I'd done that."
   "You want me to finish this or start on that?"
   "Both."
   I continued to draw her in the reclined position, I felt myself rushing
a little to get to the next one.  The scent of her hair was mixed with that
fragrance I'd detected on the dock and I wondered if she were wet.  I stole
a glance at her chest and took a deep breath.
   "Is my watching making you nervous."
   "No, it's not the watching."
   "You like how I look?" she asked looking down towards my lap.
   "How can you even ask that after -"
   "It's nice to hear it."
   "You're the most beautiful woman I know."
   "Prettier than that woman in the drawing?"
   "Yes!"
   "You're just saying that."
   "No, I'm not.  But you are my sister."
   "He doesn't seem to know," she said, reaching beneath the sheet to
gently touch me again.
   "Uh-huh," I shuddered at her touch.
   "You want me to stop?"
   "Nuh-uh," I said as my eyes closed and I tilted my head back against the
headboard.
   Her hand encircled me softly.  She wasn't stroking me, simply feeling
how excited I was.  I could feel every pulse of my heart against her light
grip and I felt her lift the sheet slightly.
   "It's very handsome," she said.
   "Is it - uh - you know?"
   "God, why are all of you guys obsessed with how big it is?"
   I didn't know how to answer her, but she knew what I was asking and I
remained silent.  The sheet fell back into place as she removed her hand
and patted my leg.
   "Sorry, I didn't mean to fuss at you.  It's nice."
   "Do you really think, I'm hansom and -"
   "I wouldn't say it if I didn't."
   I knew instantly that her words were true.  Neither her nor my parents
ever said much that they didn't mean.
   "You want me to finish drawing you?"
   "Of course."
   I sat back up and resumed where I'd left off.  It didn't take long to
finish the sketch, since I'd had much of it done before she came into my
room.  There were details missing that I wanted to get right without making
it too graphic.  After I'd drawn some of her erotic areas, I worked at
lightly smearing some of the lines with my finger and lightly tracing them.
Then I worked on the background of the worn wooden planks and the ripples
on the lake.  When I thought I had it about right, I handed her the pad.
   "Wow," she said immediately.  Then she studied it like she had the
others I'd drawn of her.  "You softened my face and you certainly think I
have big breasts."
   She did kind of have big breasts.  "I don't think I've exaggerated them,
but it was the first time I've seen them for any length of time."
   "I wasn't complaining; it's really good," she offered, as she handed the
pad back.
   I looked at the picture I'd drawn and then down at her.  A smile spread
across her lips and she sat forward a moment to pull the straps off her
shoulders.  The silky material fell revealing those twin globes of desire
and she rotated herself on the bed so they were facing me.  At the lake,
I'd been this close in the water and I hadn't been quite this close on the
dock.  I stared at them longingly.  They were within reach and I was very
tempted to cup them in my hands.  As if she were reading my thoughts she
took my pencil and set it on the night stand.  Then she took my hands and
moved them to her breasts.
   They were soft and warm.  Instinctively my thumbs lightly traced her
areolae and nipples.  They tightened against my touch and goose bumps
formed across her exposed skin.
   "See, they aren't quite as big or firm as you've depicted them," she
said with a sudden shudder.
   "Actually, I don't think I've done them justice," I said as I continued
to squeeze and caress them.
   After a few moments, I realized I was smearing graphite on her left
breast with my index finger.  Reflexively, I took the corner of the sheet,
licked it to dampen it and dab the smudges away.  As I finished, I felt her
hand about my member again.  In the process I'd uncovered myself and she'd
simply grasped me again.
   "You don't have to worry about obscuring my pussy on the next one," she
offered, as she let go and pulled her hand away with a devious smile.
   "I've only seen two.  The first was pretty brief and in a somewhat
darkened room.  The second was today."
   "Oh, yeah - well, here," she said, as she got up from the bed.
   Beside me she proceeded to wriggle her negligee down until it fell onto
the floor.  Then she assumed a slightly different position on the bed
opposite me.  As she climbed back on the bed, her leg swung over and across
mine.  Then she reclined a bit and propped her foot up so her right knee
was raised and gave me an even closer view of her uncovered pussy than I'd
had on the dock.  The feel of her skin on mine was making me harder, but I
tried to maintain my composure as I did my best to recall her on the dock.
The direct view of her here with her legs splayed open was making it
difficult to remember.  That was especially true because her glistening
slit was nearly open, her lips engorged and clit stood out proudly.  The
golden blond hair was thick on her mons, but thinned until almost bare skin
between her legs.
   I closed my eyes trying to picture her on the dock.  Nothing was coming
until the aroma clicked in my senses.  My eyes flew open and the image of
her spilled out onto the pad as if it'd been traced by a machine following
a stencil.  The curve of her breasts, the creases of her labia and even the
light moisture that she'd had, all ran through my pencil.  Emma sat forward
as my hand contorted this way and that to get the various shading I wanted.
In the drawing, I'd left out any traces of the dock or lake and instead
focused solely on her.  It felt done, but I wasn't entirely happy with the
explicit nature of her pussy.
   I was about to erase a little and tweak it when she stopped me, "No,
don't, you've got it right.  It's amazing."
   "It's upside down, how can you tell?"
   "I have a hand mirror -"
   "Oh, I see.  Well, here," I said, as I handed the sketchpad to her.
   She took it and scooted to rejoin me at the head of the bed.  We sat
there together for an unknown amount of time.  Both of us were completely
nude and I had no sheet to hide my excitement.  She finally stopped looking
at herself and closed the pad and put it in the drawer of the nightstand.
   "It's very good; you better not let Mom find it," she said.  "It should
be safer in there.  I have to admit something to you," she said and paused
as she tried to frame the words.  "You know I changed your sheets and put
the cloth under your pillow?"
   "Yeah, I figured, after you saw me -"
   "It's a normal thing - that's not what I need to say.  I - I found your
sketch pad, before you showed it to me."
   "Yeah, of course you did; I wasn't even thinking -"
   "It was an accident; I was changing the sheets and there was the lump
under there."
   "So you'd already seen them?"
   "No, I didn't look, but I wondered if maybe you were drawing me.  Then
after you trampled over those plants, I saw that look you had and I wanted
to know."
   "Yeah, I'm not very tactful am I?"
   "Look, don't feel pressured by my offer.  I'm missing contact with Bo
and I think I've probably stepped over the line.  The thing is I feel
partly to blame for Jenny."
   "How's that?  I should have listened to you."
   "No, I heard something about her before she left for college."
   "The senior's spring break trip?"
   "Yes."
   "I heard the rumor too.  But she told me it wasn't true when I asked her
about it."
   "Well, I asked one of the chaperones, ol' Miss Ellison, and she told me
how she'd walked in on them.  I almost told you that night of prom, but
instead I warned you so you could break it off without getting hurt.  I
thought that you could have moved on to a nice girl in your graduating
class."
   "Maybe."
   "No, I messed up; I should have told you what I knew.  I could have
prevented what happened."
   "Don't put that on yourself, Emma.  You did warn me and it nearly
worked, but who's to say how I would have reacted to her getting wild in
Florida.  Maybe I even half knew it was true."
   With that she hugged me close and I put my arms around her in response.
Her breasts pressed into me and the scent of her hair brought my declining
mast back full.  I wished with all my heart that she weren't my sister
because what I felt for her at that moment wasn't lust.  It was the kind of
pure love that rendered my mind senseless.  The blended sex dream where Mme
Soliel had morphed into Emma returned to my mind in a flash.  And her offer
to teach me simply added embers to the fire that was taking hold of me. 
Every heartbeat seemed like a drum in my head.
   Light flashed across the window and we each realized Mama was home at
the same moment.  Emma reached over and turned the lamp off.  I watched her
pull her gown on quickly and head toward the door.
   "Good night, Emma."
   "Yeah it was.  Good night," she said with a giggle and was gone.
   The next couple of days went by in a blur that didn't include any trips
to the lake or visits from Emma.  She and Mama took the two days of nearly
constant rain to work on projects around the house and getting some things
taken care of in town.  I got assigned taking Pops back to the doctor's
office for another checkup since his mood didn't seem to be improving.
   When the rain stopped Thursday afternoon, it cleared up entirely and
even started to dry things out a bit.  We still hadn't spoken much and it
felt like she was giving me space to work out whether to take her up on the
offer.  I wanted to, badly, I just wasn't sure what it'd mean or do to our
relationship.  My feelings of love for her hadn't receded much and she was
so recently broken up with Bo, I worried for both of us.
   That evening after I fixed and cleared dinner for myself and Pops, I
went outside to find the full strawberry moon rising over knee high corn.
In a fog of wistful thoughts, I soon found myself walking amongst the
stalks puffing on my old corncob pipe.  Without even realizing it, I'd gone
to the shed to retrieve it and gotten some of Pops' aromatic tobacco to
fill the bowl.  The tobacco was out there because Mama didn't let either of
us smoke anywhere near the house.  She'd preferred we not smoke at all, but
despite her aversion to alcohol, she was okay with us having an occasional
pipeful of Pops' favorite blend.
   My dad probably missed his true calling as a woodworker.  Besides
carving water fowl, he made all kinds of furniture, household aids, toys
and pipes.  I figured everyone has some vice and his was a rich fragrant
tobacco, although he didn't smoke it all the time.  About a week before my
thirteenth birthday, which occurred towards the end of the fall harvest,
Pops had actually helped me pick out a nice big cob, from some fat ones
he'd been drying, to make my own pipe.  We'd turned the outside on his
lathe and used a spoon bit to drill the center hollow.  Then we'd used a
mixture of mud and plaster of Paris to coat the inside, which made it
smoother and last longer.  It'd taken a few days to cure, and we'd put in a
stem we made from a hardened reed.
   I hadn't taken it to college with me, it felt uncultured or undignified,
but being here now - well, I felt like indulging.  I'd always liked to puff
the smoke into my mouth and taste it while I thought deeply.  It seemed to
focus my mind like pacing did and combining the two was even better.
   The quiet solitude of this evening had me thinking and pacing in the
field.  Thoughts of my drawings I'd made of Madam Soliel and how I'd felt
attracted to her combined with how Emma had me in various states of arousal
over the last few weeks.  I was pondering an outlet other than self-abuse
but there simply hadn't been any women in my classes or around here that I
found as attractive as either of them.  I knew Mme.  Soliel was out of my
league even if she weren't married and I was graduated.  Emma - well - damn
it - they were both forbidden fruits for different reasons.  I hadn't
decided what to do about Emma's offer of teaching me, it just felt too
weird.  I knew I wanted to badly, but admitting that made me feel even
worse.
   The night wore on and as I paced back toward the house, through the
endless row, I came upon Emma or perhaps she'd come upon me.  She was
wearing a white tube top and the moonlight shown off of it as she
approached.  The warm summer night had me sweating.  I couldn't tell if she
was sweating, but her nipples were poking straight out of that top.  I felt
guilty, but couldn't take my eyes off them.
   "You and Mama got home early," I said across the distance.
   "Yeah, she's worried about Pops.  What are you out here thinking on,
Squirt?" she asked, in a quieter tone when she was close.
   "How do you know I'm thinking on something?"
   "I know you, Paul.  I practically raised you from the time you were
five."
   "Yeah, I guess.  Mama tells of you going off to college when I was about
nine months old, so I guess you had a hand in changing my diapers too," I
teased her.
   "Yeah, I had you potty trained before I left.  Why do you think your
nickname is Squirt?"
   The revelation those words carried, rolled over me like a tidal-wave. 
That was what it had been about all this time.  I wanted to laugh as I
imagined her changing me or helping me use the potty for those first
attempts and getting squirted in the process.
   "Why do you always, torture me so?" I finally asked, as I tried to take
a puff from the pipe.
   It'd gone out and I pulled out my gold lighter to relight it.  The flame
danced in the bowl as I sucked in short quick bursts to light it.  The
light shown in Emma's face briefly until I flipped it shut and put it back
in my pocket.  Then I took a big puff from the pipe, blew a smoke ring and
watched it rise above my head.
   "Sorry, that was mean.  Seriously though, what are you doing out here
alone in the moonlight, smoking your pipe and pacing the fields?"
   "Well, I'm thinking about what to do.  I haven't had any kind of romance
in my life since Jenny dumped me and I don't see it changing."
   "Aren't there some girls your age in your classes you could date?"
   I thought about the question and realized that that might be part of my
problem.  "I can't honestly say.  I mean I know there are, but I don't see
them like that and maybe they don't see me like that either."
   "You're talking in circles, mister.  You do like women, don't you?"
   "Of course, I like Women!  You've seen how excited you've gotten me," I
said, letting down my defenses even though it felt like a trap.  I blurted
out the core of my problem, "I don't just want sex though.  I want the
whole package."
   "Who are you drawn to?"
   I knew she'd seen my sketches of Mme Soliel and our interaction recently
had me wondering if Emma felt something too.  I guessed it was possible
that she hadn't figured it out.
   "I was really attracted to one of my professors, but she's married and
that'd never work anyway."
   "So you have a thing for older women."
   "No, not all older women, just some."
   "The woman in the drawings?" she asked, putting things together.
   "Yes, but like I said, she's married."
   "Who else?  How many?"
   "I can't say."
   "Can't or won't?"
   "You're so hard on me," I said defensively.  She folded her arms across
her chest and I finally just told her, "I only seem to be attracted to a
couple of older women I can't have."
   "The professor and who else?  Mom?"
   "No, not Mama," I said dismissively, although now that she'd mentioned
it, I wonder if I am or ever was.  "I don't think I am anyway." I knew she
was fishing but I couldn't let myself say it aloud.
   "Aunt Sarah, cousins Marva or Sally?"
   "No, no and no and I don't think I should answer any more," I said.
   Now I was kind of thinking about them too.  They were Mom's older sister
and her two daughters, who were older than Emma.  All of them had
strikingly golden hair like Mom and Emma.  Sarah and her husband had moved
south to retire already and Marva and Sally had moved off with husbands, so
I wasn't even sure where they were currently.  Pops younger brother James
didn't have any kids or even a wife.  I took several repeated puffs from
the pipe.  I could feel my embarrassment growing and had to wonder why she
was pressing this.  Maybe she did know and it was dawning upon me that I
was only drawn to women that looked like Emma.
   "There's nothing you could say that would shock or offend me, so out
with it."
   I hesitated for several moments.  Her words seemed sincere and even
though she teased me sometimes, she'd always been there to take care of me
and help me.  It felt like she must know it too, the way she'd been acting
since I came back home for the summer and her offer of teaching me.
   "You, Emma, I'm attracted to you!" I said in a little too loud of a
whisper.
   "Yeah, you really help my self-esteem."
   "Well, it's more than that - I think - I'm in l-"
   "Ohhhh shit!" she exclaimed.  "I wasn't - oh - sweetie - I -" her voice
trailed off to mutterings that I interpreted as rejection.
   Certain I'd screwed up, I quickly retracted, "Sorry, I shouldn't have
said that."
   "No, it's okay, I'm not offended.  Obviously, I'm attracted too," she
said but then hesitated.  "I don't know if I've ever thought about you in
that way.  I love you, but -"
   "Look, I'm leaving in two months; we don't ever have to talk about this
again.  I'm really sorry, I'll work it out," I said and started to walk
away.
   "Wait Paul."
   "Why?" I asked trying hard to hold back the hurt and continued walking.
   "You came home to get away from her didn't you?"
   Her words stopped me cold in my tracks, "Yes, well no, to stop thinking
about her.  I was obsessing."
   "And now you're obsessing about me."
   "No - maybe, I don't know.  You're very attractive to me.  I have loved
you as a caregiver and sister for most of my life.  Now, I feel like I'm in
love with you but can't have you either."
   "I think I understand."
   "Maybe you can explain it to me, because I sure don't," I said, as I
took a big drag and accidentally inhaled some into my lungs, which started
me coughing and sputtering.
   "Give me that," she said.  "You're liable to set yourself ablaze."
   While I continued coughing, Emma puffed on the pipe and blew some smoke
rings of her own.  I'd never seen her smoke a pipe or a cigarette for that
matter.  My eyes were watering fiercely when I finally got myself under
control.  She patted me on the back gently, then popped the last of the
bowl out against her heel, stomped it out, and handed me the pipe back.
   "Dad's blend is really good, but I prefer Uncle Jimmy's.  That's who
gave you the lighter isn't it?"
   "Yeah, for graduation," I said, as I wondered about the sudden change in
topic.
   Then just as quickly, she switched back, "Maybe what we could do is
practice your approach as well."
   "Approach?"
   "Yeah, maybe you're going about it wrong.  I don't know if you want to
date professors, but maybe slightly older women."
   "I don't have an approach; I'm not even trying."
   "Well there's the problem.  We'll work on it."
   "How?  I don't think I can learn this from my sister."
   "What if I weren't your sister?  How would you ask me out?"
   "Well, I've already told you how pretty you are.  You've seen how I look
at you.  You felt the effect you have on me at the lake and while I drew
you the other night."
   "So turn those thoughts into words that convince me to go out with you."
   I thought about it a moment or two and gave it my best effort.  "Emma, I
think you know that I like you and find you attractive, would you go on a
date with me?"
   "Hmm, that's pretty good.  Yes, where would you like to go?"
   "I hadn't thought that far."
   "You've got to be ready for 'yes', mister.  Go again, ask me out again."
   "Hey Emma, we've been hanging around together for a while and I'm
attracted to you.  Do you think you -"
   "Nope.  Try again."
   "Emma I'm falling in love with you -"
   "No.  Come on, you don't want to scare the woman off.  Being attracted
and falling in love are two differen things."
   They were two different things, but I'd already gotten to the second
part with her.  I wanted to ask her how you hide it when you already feel
that, but then realized how crazy that sounded.  I tried a number of other
pickup lines on her, none of which worked.  I didn't know what she was
looking for so eventually I wound up back at the one that'd almost worked.
   "Emma, you know I like you and am attracted to you, right?"
   "Yes."
   "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
   "Yes, Paul, that'd be nice.  Where would you like to go?"
   "I was thinking dinner and then a movie in town, tomorrow?"
   "Okay, you can pick me up around four-thirty."
   "Okay, I'll see you then."
   "Where will you be taking me?"
   Her double entendre nearly tripped me up, "The - um - steak house on
Main."
   "Oh, nice and what movie?"
   "I think there's a new 'Indiana Jones' movie."
   "Oh, I like that guy.  He's almost as dreamy as you."
   "Knock it off, I thought you were helping me."
   "I am, I can't wait to go and you better not disappoint me.  I'm really
looking forward to it," she said walking back toward the house.
   "Wait, we're going?  I didn't think you liked to be seen in public with
me."
   "That was before you grew up.  Now you're cute."
   Now I'm cute?  I thought to myself.  What the heck did I just agree to
do?  I wondered, as I followed her.
   Right before we reached the house she stopped and turned to me.  Her
arms reached around my neck to pull my head down and she gave me a full on
the mouth tongue kiss.  I just stood there in shock as she gave me one of
the nicest kisses I'd ever had in my life.  There's no way I could tell how
long that French kiss lasted, I was lost in it.  My arms wrapped around her
as it continued.  There was tension building in my pants and I knew she
could feel it pressing against her belly.
   When she finally broke it off, she said, "Okay, I'll see you at
four-thirty sharp." Then she dashed onto the porch, opened the screen door
and was half way up the stairs when it slammed shut.
   I stayed by the old tree for a while as I replayed what'd just happened.
The entire interaction had been rife with double entendre and I couldn't
decide if they were deliberate or not.  When I thought about the incident
at the lake, it seemed like some of her words there might have also been
intentionally provocative.  Was it coincidence that she'd asked me Are you
ready to go?  after sliding up my cock?  My mind began to replay numerous
conversations now.  The more I thought about it the more convinced I
became.
   When I went inside, I climbed the stairs straight up to my room and
disrobed.  When I heard her come out of the restroom and close her door, I
went in to brush my teeth and use the john before bed.  Back in my room I
found it hard to sleep, I kept thinking of the various exploratory
behaviors that'd happened.  The one that I kept reliving was the feel of
her hand grasping me right here in this bed after drawing her.  It was
tender and caring and after tonight, I wanted her hand on me again.
   In the darkness I pulled my rigid cock out and put my hand about me like
she had.  I could almost imagine it was her.  It was wrong and naughty in
so many ways, but as I jerked myself, I was inundated with visuals of her
touching me and her placing my hands upon her breasts.  As I climaxed
tonight I moaned her name and ached for another kiss like she'd given me
outside.
   Placing the cloth beneath my pillow, I began to worry about how quickly
I'd just gotten myself off.  It began to trouble me and I thought about
Jenny's belittlement of me.  At that moment it was as if a barrier in my
mind were removed and I recalled another portrait I'd done and it wasn't in
the sketch books I had in my dorm, it was here in my blanket chest.
   Turning on the light, I climbed out and went to the foot of the bed
where the blanket chest was.  Inside I dug through the layers of linens to
find all of my earlier sketchpads.  The pictures inside were very early
drawings I'd made when I might have been twelve or thirteen.  As I sat on
the bed leafing through them looking for the sketch, finally finding it.
   It was kind of shocking to see my Mama looking back at me from the
drawing that must be ten years old.  The striking similarity of her to Emma
was unmistakable although unsurprising.  What had stunned me was how much
they both looked like Mme Soliel.  It gave me a weird feeling in the pit of
my stomach as I wondered about this undeniable attraction I found for my
sister and professor.  Did I have this attraction because of Mama?  Do I
have some kind of buried Oedipal complex?  The questions left me worried
and embarrassed.  What could I do if I did?  Was I now officially a
pervert?
   Turning the page I found the first drawing I'd made of Jenny.  I
couldn't remember drawing her initially, there seemed to be more blocks
protecting me from these.  Each page I turned was another one of her until
there were ones I'd drawn during high school.  I'd forgotten that this one
book had been dedicated to just portraits but when I reached the last
picture in the book it was Jenny as I'd drawn her on the night she'd dumped
me.  She was still lovely in the picture, but I could see disappointment
and disdain in her expression.
   The memory of her rejection and my reaction to it flooded back in upon
me.  I'd drawn the picture from a dark place that was filled with anger and
self loathing.  She'd broken my heart that night but I'd still wanted her
and that crushed me.  Emma had found me crying that night and now I was
crying again.  History was repeating itself when she popped her head inside
my door.
   "Paul?" she said softly.  "What are you doing down there?"
   "It's - nothing - I should - I should have - fucking burned these!"
   "No, those are beautiful, and we don't destroy art."
   "Why?  - Why did she - why'd she do that to me, Em?  I adored her."
   "She wasn't nice.  She wasn't the one for you, Paul," she said softly
and held me tight.  Then she pulled me to her and rocked gently with me. 
"Shhhh, my sweet baby, don't cry.  It will pass again."
   "No one I love loves me back, except you."
   "Shhh, come let's put these away and get you in bed," she said as she
gathered them up.
   Then she helped me into bed and quieted me down.  "I will always love
you, no matter what.  There's someone out there for you, I promise," she
said lightly stroking my head.
   I lay there and all I could think about was how much I wanted to make
her happy.  There was deep longing to have her happy for herself and happy
for me.  She always cared for me, she always came to my aid in my time of
need.  I drifted off to sleep dreaming of her caressing my head as she so
often did.
   The next morning I got up late, but was dressed and downstairs before
her.  I waited a little while and then made a toasted peanut butter and
jelly sandwich.  I cut it in half and ate mine while I wondered what was
keeping her.  When I finished, I put hers on a napkin and since we were
already running a little behind, I took it up to her room to make sure she
was okay after she'd cared for me so gently during last night's episode of
self-despair.
   I passed the door to her old room and approached the room she'd taken
over after our parents moved downstairs.  I was just about to knock and
stick my head inside but outside her door I heard my name and muffled
sounds inside.  I stood there for several moments wondering if what I
suspected was happening really were and debated whether I should interrupt.
Hesitatingly I decided to turn the tables a bit and just go into this room
as she had mine, despite the lingering prohibitive feelings I had about
entering either her room or my parents.
   I cracked the door and went inside as if to wake her.  What I found was
Emma completely nude and spread legged with her fingers working herself
furiously.  Her index and pinky finger seemed to focus on her outer lips,
but her ring and middle finger slid down her clit and inside.  Her eyes
were closed and she seemed oblivious to my presence.  I shut the door
silently behind me and I barely dared to breathe.
   Then she said some soft dirty words that made me instantly hard, "Fuck
me with that handsome dick, Paul.  Yeah, baby, push it inside me and squirt
your cum in me."
   She placed a familiar looking cloth at her nose and inhaled deeply.  I
couldn't believe my eyes or ears as I stared on in astonishment.  Maybe,
she wasn't just offering to teach me, maybe she wanted to do it, but
couldn't ask, like me.  Did we both have these illicit desires?
   Her words attracted my attention again as her voice changed and she
hissed into the cloth, "You like it don't you baby, fucking me is so
naughty.  You're enjoying the feeling too."
   The room was filled with her scent and I heard her gasp several times as
I presumed she'd orgasmed.  Then without missing a beat she removed the
cloth, looked at me lustily and whispered hoarsely, "I wondered if you
would come; did you enjoy watching?"
   I stood against the door and whispered back, "Yes, you're beautiful and
I'm looking forward to tonight even more."
   "Good, if you're well behaved I might let you practice with me."
   "Do you really think about us together too?"
   "Ever since you came back."
   "Can I come closer?" I asked and sniffed the air.
   "Yes, but you didn't ask, Mother may I?" she said giggling.
   "Mother may I take three steps forward?" I asked, suddenly reliving this
childhood game.
   "Now, come here and smell my tulips!" she ordered quietly, as she tried
to trick me.
   "Mother may I come there to smell?"
   "Yes you may!"
   The force of her answer compelled me forward.  I place the half sandwich
and napkin on her bedside table next to the phone and knelt by her where
she lie on the edge of her queen size bed.  All I had to do was lean
forward and I could put my face right against her sex, but I wanted her to
give her acceptance.
   I looked up at her and asked, "Mother may I smell your tulips?"
   She nodded, but I didn't budge.  Then she smiled and hoarsely rasped,
"Yes you may."
   It was too much, I could resist no longer and my ache drove my head
forward.  Need pressed my nose firmly against her and I inhaled her
essence. A light moan escaped my mouth, "Mmmmm."
   "Do you like how I smell?" she whispered.
   "Mm-hmm."
   It was heavenly to feel the soft blond hair against my nose and face. 
The moisture on her lips wet mine.  My tongue slipped out to savor her
fluid which begged to be tasted.  I'd never done it before, so it was
awkward but I guess she was pleased because a guttural moan that vibrated
through her abdomen accompanied my effort.  The muscles of her abs clenched
repeatedly as I continued to delve deeper.  Her hands found my head and
pressed me into her encouragingly.
   "Oh, God, you didn't ask - mother may I - oh fuck yeah!" her words
returned to tease me breathily.  But moments later more encouragement
followed, "Yes, like that.  Suck on that, baby; suck mommy's - suck my clit
- my baby - oh gawd - brother - so good..."
   Her encouragement had me sucking at her engorged clitoris more and more
vigorously.  As I slurped upon her, she trembled and I had to adjust my
angle.  The soft hair tickled my nose, but I loved everything about this
new experience.  My hand moved to her midsection to calm her, but she took
it and placed it upon her bare breast.  I kneaded it gently and squeezed
her excited nipple lightly between my thumb and index finger.
   "A little harder," she pleaded as one hand joined mine and the other
returned to run through my hair.
   I pressed my face further into her groin and began lapping at her
fervently while I tweaked her nipple a bit harder.  Her trembling became
more pronounced and approached bucking.  It gave me a huge boost of
confidence and I took charge a little more as I moved onto the bed between
her smooth muscular legs.  This allowed me access to both of her breasts
and a more direct attack on her gorgeous golden pussy.  I alternated
sucking her clit and pressing my wriggling tongue between her lips.
   I wondered if I could ever put to paper the image in front of me.  The
delight on her face and the beauty of her form as I looked up at her from
my vantage would be a masterpiece.  My attempts to give her pleasure seemed
to be working as I responded to her every reaction and moan.  Soon, she was
gasping again and her breath came in short staccato bursts.  It seemed
different from what I'd observed and heard earlier.  I initially thought
that maybe it was my proximity to her, but moments later, Emma surprised me
with a little squeal.  There was more fluid and this was thicker almost
like a cream.  I could feel it escaping around my lips but I kept slurping
and sucking at her perfect pink lips.
   "Oh my God, Paul.  That was wonderful," she said pulling me up to join
her.
   I crawled up to lie beside her and at that moment the clouds opened up
and the rain on the tin roof sounded like it might have bits of hail in it.
Emma seemed almost unaware as she brought her lips to mine and kiss me
deeply.  It was similar to the kiss last night under the tree, but her
tongue was more exploratory and passionate.  The taste of herself on my
face and lips seemed to be making her almost wild as her hands worked to
undo my shorts and find my cock which was straining to be free.  She broke
the kiss to see and feel my rigidness.
   "Could I do that for you with my mouth?" she whispered, as her hand
lightly caressed the sides of my shaft.
   With what I'd done to her and the likelihood that we wouldn't be working
outside today, I just nodded my approval.  She pulled my shorts down and
off over my socks.  Then she tugged at my shirt to remove it roughly over
my head.  When I laid back, she took a position between my legs and held me
in her hand.  She stroked me gently and suddenly placed me into her open
mouth.
   "Ohhh jeez, that's amazing!  Mmm."
   The feeling was incredible as her tongue worked along my shaft.  Her
hand jerked me as she sucked the crown of my cock and I was certain that I
wouldn't last long.  My heart was beating fast and I could feel myself
expanding in her mouth.  It was already very hard since I'd gotten so
excited from licking and sucking her.
   Her long golden hair draped over her shoulders and onto me.  It was soft
and flowing as I pushed it back so I could see her more clearly.  There
were slurping sounds and I felt my tension building.  I tried to hold out
but Emma knew exactly what she was doing to me.  She looked up at me
knowingly and there was just a hint of a smile as her eyes sparkled with
glee.
   "Mother may I cum in your mouth?" I asked as I neared the point of no
return.
   Emma laughed around my cock but continued sucking and bobbing as she
nodded slightly and blinked her eyes closed to acknowledge her willingness.
Her jerking became more rapid and she lowered her eyes to watch me
constrict as I had a very powerful orgasm.
   "Oh fuck, I'm cumming.  Oh God, you're making me cum, Emma.  Ung!"
   Her lips were tight around me and she swallowed a lot of the first blast
I ejaculated, but some began oozing around the corners of her mouth and
dribbled down my length.  Spurt after spurt continued to come.  I watched
her swallow several times and the overflow increased until it was flowing
down over her fingers.  Finally, exhausted, I relaxed and watched her lick
up the rest.  As I continued to watch, she licked the sticky strands from
the fingers of her right hand and then scooted up next to me.
   We lie there together canoodling for a long while as the rain continued
unabated.  We embraced with tender kisses and allowed our hands to explore
one another's bodies further.  Her hips and legs were muscular.  To my
mind, what made her so attractive was the combination of her fitness with
the feminine contours produced by that slight increase of fat in all the
right places.  That was especially true of her breasts, which fascinated me
to no end.  I'd held them a few nights ago, but now I occasionally took a
nipple into my mouth and had free reign to explore them.  They were firm
but pliable and responsive to my touch.
   The entire event was a life changing experience for a lot of different
reasons.  Although it'd only been oral sex and petting, it had gone a lot
differently than anything I'd done with Jenny.  Primarily, I felt that Emma
hadn't set me up to fail.  Moreover, she had intentionally put this
morning's activities into motion.  That single action made me increasingly
convinced that she might love me despite what she'd said last night in the
field.  My hopes elevated as I worried about what that might mean for both
of us.
   Eventually, she hugged me tight and said, "We can't lay here much
longer, Mama will be up soon."
   "Crap, you don't think they heard, do you?" I asked as I remembered
where we were.
   "No, this room is the farthest from the addition and it was raining
pretty hard on the roof there too."
   "Right, and it's still raining so, maybe we could stay in bed today."
   "I'm really enjoying this, but you know we can't."
   "Mother may I lick you again?"
   "Yes silly, if you're a good boy on our date," she said and shoved me a
little.
   "Okay, it was worth a try.  Maybe we could shower together?"
   "Wow, one time and you're insatiable."
   "It's the first time I've done that and I liked how you taste."
   "We have all summer..."
   How many times had I heard her say that and not hear what she was
telling me.  It started to become a persistent obsessive thought, Had she
been telling me that we could do things all summer?  My heart leapt in my
chest as I considered the possibility.
   "Hey, you need to wash your face and we need to show up downstairs
separately."
   "Okay," I said reluctantly crawling from beside her.
   She sat on the side of the bed and watched me dress.  I left and went
directly to the bathroom to wash up.  Before I'd finished, Emma scooted
behind me and hopped into the shower.  Her hand cascaded downward across my
shoulder.  It felt comforting and I turned to watch her disappear behind
the curtain.
   "You sure I can't come in there?" I asked in a hushed tone.
   "Another time.  You need to go downstairs and try to wipe that look off
your face."
   I turned back to look at myself in the mirror.  There was a look on my
face, now that I was paying attention.  It was something like satisfaction,
but there was something deeper.  I scrunched up my face and tried to see if
it would go away.  No matter what I did, it simply didn't seem to diminish.
I shrugged to myself and went out of the bathroom and then downstairs. 
There I found Mom at the stove making eggs and toast.  I glanced into their
bedroom and saw Pops fully dressed and eating his breakfast on a tray
that'd become a common theme lately.
   "You're up late today.  Calling it off for rain?" he asked.
   "No, well some of it.  I'm going to get the eggs, but we're probably not
doing much else," I said heading toward the mudroom door quickly.
   "Those can wait, you want some breakfast?" Mama asked.
   "No, I had half a PB&J already," I replied as I hurried out.
   Mama turned to look at me and I could feel the heat of her eyes on me as
I closed the door and headed down the steps into the drizzling rain.  While
I gathered the eggs, I found that there were two new chicks.  One of the
hens must have hidden fertilized eggs somewhere, so I put her and the
chicks in a separate pen and put out some starter feed.  They were little
puffs of black fuzz with only a couple of light spots.  Once finished, I
carried the basket of eggs back to the house.  Inside, Emma was at the
table eating the other half a sandwich I'd given her upstairs.  She was
chatting with Mom, who was eating her egg and toast.  The door to the
bedroom was closed and Emma had an odd look on her face.
   "We've got a couple new chicks," I said as I observed Mama scrutinizing
me closely.
   "I thought one of them was hiding something," Emma said.
   "What do you two have planned today?" Mama asked.
   "Well with the rain, not much in the fields.  There's some left over
material Pops used on the addition, I'd like to use to build a shack down
by the lake.  We might start hauling things over there," Emma offered.
   "We're just about done packing," Mama said.
   "Are you going somewhere?" I asked surprised.
   "Yeah, we are going to take a trip south to scout for property.  It
shouldn't require Papa to do too much walking, but we want to look while
it's nice and things are starting to slow down here."
   "I've got Paul to help now anyway."
   "How long are you going to be gone?" I asked.
   "Just a week or so.  I want to get him out of this funk he's in," she
said in a whisper.
   Mama's tone was unusual for lots of different reasons, but I could see
the concern in her face.  There were worry lines in her forehead as she
seemed to stare off into the distance.
   "Is there something besides his leg and foot bothering him?" I wondered
aloud.
   "He ain't right and I don't know what it is, but I think getting away
from here to look towards something might help," she said softly.
   "Station wagon's driving better now?" I asked.
   "Yes, it'll be fine.  I had it aligned when I got the new back tires. 
They gave it an oil change and a full inspection; it should be good for
several more years."
   I'd meant to fix that myself, but it felt like this sudden trip had
pressured her to do it sooner.  There seemed like there was more to Pops'
mood than his foot, but I didn't know how to ask.
   "I wish there were something we could do, Mama," I said as I took her
hand.
   "Sonny, you being here is helping.  We've never gotten to take a
vacation together during the summer.  It'll be nice to have someone make
our breakfast and not have any set schedule for a bit."
   She squeezed my hand and looked at Emma, "Don't you work him too hard
while we're gone."
   "He'll be fine," Pops said cutting Emma off as he shuffled with his
crutches through their door.  "Come on, Mama, let's get this started."
   "Well, aren't you raring to go this morning?" she said suddenly beaming.
   "Just wish we was goin' without this dang thing," he said as he tapped
the cast.  "Couldja help wit dem cases, Sonny?"
   "Sure Pops," I replied as I hopped up to get them.
   One big black suitcase I could just barely remember seeing and a newer
pink one sat at the foot of their bed.  There was a matching pink squarish
overnight case on the bed.  I took the two big bags and Emma came in to
gather the smaller one.  On the front porch, I found that the wagon had
been moved right up to the steps.  There was more planning behind this than
I realized and I wondered why they hadn't said anything.
   Hauling their bags out to the wagon, I wondered if they would find
anything and if it'd help his mood.  He was a strong man, but the injury
seemed to take him down several notches.  After we put the bags in the
back, they were both outside in the drizzle heading for the car.  We gave
them both quick hugs and they got into the station wagon.
   "I'll call later with a phone number of the hotel," Mama said before
starting the car.
   "Good luck on your hunt," Emma said.
   We both waved at them from the porch and watched them circle around the
drive and head down the muddy lane.  This stroke of luck seemed too good to
be real and I wondered if perhaps Emma had spurred this somehow.  That
thought was taken away as the drizzle turned into another sudden downpour.
   "So much for hauling things down to the lake," she said ruefully.
   "Yeah, it might let up though."
   "Well, it'll give us some time to talk about the date," she said in a
more serious tone.
   "Yeah, it's a small town, we can't be too obvious about what we're doing
or it'll get back."
   "Well, the steak house won't be very busy and the movie theater will be
dark," she countered.
   "So, what do we need to talk about?"
   "How to seduce a woman without seducing her."
   "It'll be difficult for me to know what will work."
   "Everyone is different, you need to be able to identify the clues.  I
think what we'll do is pretend I'm different people on different dates."
   "Oh, so this isn't a one-time mission?"
   "We'll see, if you're a good boy."
   The rest of the morning we talked about roles she might play: student,
co-worker, divorcée and teacher.  Tonight she was going to pretend to be my
professor against my objection.  She said it'd be the hardest one to win
over and the rest would be easier.  We went over how to hold the doors,
chairs and such.  I did a bunch of these things already, but she wanted it
to be as realistic as possible.  We practiced introductions and more pickup
lines.
   The whole thing was exhausting but Emma was insistent.  Whenever, I had
the least resistance to what she was explaining to me, she'd tell me that
she didn't want me to end up alone like her.  Those words were very
effective because I didn't want her to be alone either.  Somewhere deep
inside, I wished it could be me that ended up with her.  I knew that wasn't
what she was saying aloud, but I wondered if she felt something other than
our obvious sexual attraction.
   Lunch time came and went and the rain with it.  That put a halt to our
talks and we went outside to load a bunch of leftover materials from the
back of the shed into the truck.  Pops had lots of extra lumber and there
was a surplus of green tin as well.  We took several loads to the lake and
before I knew it we were back at the house getting out of the truck.  It
was apparently time to get ready for our date.
   "I'm going to get showered first," she informed me.  "Women take a
little more time to get prepared."
   I wasn't really sure about that, but wasn't going to argue with her.  As
I watched her climb the stairs, there was a knot forming in my stomach.  I
wondered and worried about how far I was willing to actually go. 
Desperation gnawed at me.  My love for Emma kept seeming as hopeless as
that I had felt for Mme Soliel.  Now she was going to pretend to be her and
that weighed heavily on my conscience.  It was like the dream I'd had might
be brought into reality this evening and I wasn't sure I really liked the
idea or maybe the guilt that accompanied it.
   When she finished in the bathroom I heard her come out and go to her
room.  I came out of my room and we traded glances as she closed her door
and I went into get a shower.  I was pretty sure you weren't supposed to
see your date naked before the evening, but the whole affair was irregular
to say the least.  Ever since our session that morning, I'd been building
up these feelings of doubt and dread.  I worried about my previous failure
with Jenny.  Somehow on autopilot, I washed, dried, shaved and brushed my
teeth.
   Back in my room I put on a nice pair of slacks and a short sleeve button
up shirt.  I got a belt and my Sunday shoes out and headed downstairs.  I
hadn't worn the shoes in quite a while and the layer of dust on them looked
almost like mold.  In the new mudroom, I found Pops' wooden polish box and
gave both the belt and shoes a nice clean up and shine.  After I put them
on, I was in the middle of putting the box back up on the shelf when I was
surprised with Emma grabbing me around the waist.
   "Now don't you look handsome?" she asked squeezing me tightly.
   When she released me, I turned to see her lovely dress and blouse.  "You
look great, Emma."
   "Professor."
   "Right.  You look great Professor.  Are you ready to go?"
   She locked her arm in mine and replied with a nasally attempt at a
French accent, "Yes, I'm famished."
   I had to laugh, it wasn't very convincing, but all of this seemed
fantastic and surreal.  We walked out to the truck together, with me
opening and closing each door for her.  Then I got in and started the
engine and engaged the gears.  She'd done all of the driving until now, and
I'd only driven the truck to town to get the tires replaced for the wagon.
Needless to say, I misclutched and stalled the thing out.  The second
attempt went smoother and we were off.
   "Calmez vous," she said softly taking my hand.
   "Nice, I didn't know you knew any."
   "That's about all I remember from high school French.  Our teacher would
say it throughout the class as the kids ratcheted up their chatter."
   "Well, you don't have to pretend to be her," I protested again.  "I've
given up on that, she's married and out of my league."
   "I'll use it for now and play other roles on later dates."
   I arrived at the steak house on Main right before five.  It wasn't very
crowded at all.  We sat ourselves in a secluded back corner.  It was a
windowless part of the dining area that was sort of romantic.  We'd agreed
not to hold hands or do anything that might be seen in public, but we would
be able to talk.
   After the waitress took our orders, we chatted like a couple might. 
Exchanging idle chit-chat, things about ourselves.  Some of the things Emma
made up about her character were a little shocking.  At one point she said
that she has never wanted children and was okay with not having any.
   I broke out of character and asked, "You really don't?"
   She said, "Well, I've had several years to think about it.  If it
miraculously happened, I'd be good with that too."
   "You could adopt if you meet someone that wants kids," I offered.
   "Yeah, I've thought a little about that possibility.  I already helped
raise this one kid, and look how nicely he turned out," she said with a big
smile.
   I didn't have a reply for that but it left a very warm feeling inside.
The whole evening was turning out kind of fun and lighthearted.  We ate our
meals when they arrived and resumed our roles.  As the dinner progressed, I
lost a lot of my worries.  We finished eating shortly after six-thirty, and
walked over to the theater a little early to get tickets for the seven
o'clock showing.
   That plan worked well too.  Despite the popularity of the film, we sat
in a nearly empty theater.  We held hands through the entire thing.  She
squeezed mine tightly through some of the dramatic scenes and we snuck in a
kiss or three.
   On the way home I could feel my tension rising again but it was mostly
anticipation of what might happen.  I parked so the passenger door was
closest to the front porch, got out and went around to let Emma out.  Her
high heels in her hand, she stepped into the grass and then onto the steps.
I quickly closed the truck door and went to open the screen and interior
doors which were never locked.  Inside I turned on the lamp that stood atop
the sofa's end table in the family room.
   She sat softly on one end and patted the seat next to her, "I had a
really nice evening Monsieur Rocinante", she said with that nasally
affected French accent that I suddenly adored.
   "I had a wonderful evening as well.  Would it be inappropriate for me to
give you a good night kiss?" I asked continuing to play along.
   She looked around suspiciously, "I don't think anyone is looking, so
maybe just a quick one."
   I joined her there and our lips met tenderly.  It was like the night
under the maple tree when she'd kissed me so deeply.  Now though her tongue
inter-played within my mouth and I teased her back with mine.  Her hands
wrapped around my waist and I moved mine to her shoulders.  It was intense
and I never wanted it to end because I was so sure that this was proof,
proof that she loved me like I loved her.  Kissing like this wasn't sexual
to me, it was an expression of love and in that moment, I couldn't have
loved her much more or my heart might burst right out of my chest.
   I don't know how long it lasted, I only know that she stopped it.  Her
breath was coming jaggedly and I wasn't sure if she was alright, but a
moment later, she was helping me out of my pants by unbuckling my belt,
unzipping and unbuttoning my trousers and pulling them gently downward. 
The boxers came along for the ride to just below my hips and my cock sprang
right up to her awaiting lips.
   "Oh fuck, Professor.  That feels so good, I think that I may explode."
   Emma stopped abruptly and said, "Non, non, non.  You must save zis for
later."
   "Emma, can we break out of character?"
   "Of course, sweetie.  What's wrong?"
   "I'm literally going to cum if you do any more to me.  I've been
building up all of this in my head and it's -"
   "Okay, it's okay.  Look we can slow down.  And I'd been planning to help
you with performance and stamina.  Just because you cum once doesn't mean
you can't go again," she said confidently, her stare was deeply penetrating
and calming to my inner turmoil.  After several moments she seemed unsure
if I was okay and asked, "You've heard the phrase 'Repetition is the key to
success', right?"
   I nodded affirmatively and my performance anxiety declined a bit. 
Looming in the back of my mind was that memory of Jenny's disgust with me
when I came before her and the truth of my real concern was laid bare for
me.
   "I just don't want to disappoint you later," I said, realizing I had
fully committed myself to going all the way with her.
   "Oh, honey.  You've gotta let that memory go," she said sadly.  "Here,
tell you what, let's go up to my room," she said standing up.
   Standing beside her, I pulled my trousers back up and buttoned them, but
left them unzipped and my belt undone.  She took me by the hand and I
followed behind as she led me toward her room.  It still felt like our
parents' room and that must have been what'd given her the idea to play
'Mother may I' this morning.  We'd played that game when I was younger, but
the new twist she'd given it today made my cock throb as we climbed the
stairs.  That vivid memory would inhabit my mind now forever.
   I didn't think of myself as a mama's boy, but I'd begun to question
everything as we approached that door.  It was Mama's door, I didn't go in
there.  Pops had told me that numerous times as a child.  Additionally,
he'd told me not to go into Emma's room either.  When I'd entered this
morning it'd only been in the back of my mind, but as we came closer, it
was all I could think about.
   Emma could feel me tensing as we entered, "Calm down, Squirt.  I know
exactly what you're thinking."
   Did she?  Was I so obvious?  Did she know what the nickname Squirt did
to me now?  The thumping in my chest felt like a bomb might go off in
there.
   "It's their old room," she continued.  "I know what I did this morning
played on that taboo.  It was naughty of me, but you seemed to like it.  We
don't have to play like that if it makes you uncomfortable."
   "I don't know what makes me uncomfortable," I began babbling.  "I liked
it a lot.  I can think of nothing but doing it again.  You tasted wonderful
and I want to do it repeatedly because it made you cum.  I want to make you
orgasm over and over again.  It's crazy - it's making me crazy.  I would do
it for you even if you didn't do it for me.  But it also scares me, because
I never thought about Mama like that and pretending you were my mother,
made me so hot and excited.  None of it makes sense in here," I said
pointing to my head.
   She led me to the bed and said, "Don't be ashamed; you can't control
what excites you.  No one can.  Here, take mommy's clothes off," she said
moving my hand to her top button.
   I complied with her request eagerly.  That she'd called herself mommy
again made it even easier to do the task.  I slowly unbuttoned her blouse
and removed it.  Then I unzipped her skirt at the side and it slid down. 
She had on a garter and stockings beneath it.  When I saw them I thought my
heart might stop.  I knelt at her feet and began with her stocking clips.
They weren't difficult to figure out, but my fingers trembled as I undid
them and rolled the dark stockings down her smooth muscular legs.  Then she
turned the belt around so I could undo it.  Once unhooked, it fell to the
floor and I pressed my face into her silky black panties to inhale deeply
from silky clear tulips that covered hers.  It gave me new reasons to love
the flower and terminology I'd used for the female anatomy for as long as I
could remember.
   Her excitement was evident and it made my heart sing.  Very slowly I
pulled them down with my face still firmly against her.  When my lips met
hers again, I thought I might pass out.  It was all I had thought about for
the entire day.  Every empty moment I'd obsessed about this: between talks
about the date, as we drove to / from the lake, when we been eating dinner
and every second of the drive home.  She'd told me not to be ashamed, and
that was freeing but there were still several doubts.  I mustn't have cared
much about them because I continued lapping at her wantonly as if my tongue
moved of its own volition.
   My perception of time vanished in a musky scent that transfixed all of
my attention.  All too soon it seemed she was moaning with her fingers in
my hair pressing me into her muttering 'yes' and 'fuck'.  I felt her cum as
her muscles clenched tight around my tongue, but I wanted to give her
another and another.
   "Hey," she said removing her hand and backing away slightly.  "Let's get
you undressed too," she cooed and helped me up to the bed.
   Sitting there, she removed my shoes, socks and then undid the trouser
button so she could assist me out of them along with my boxers.  Then she
undid a couple buttons of my shirt and pulled it over my head.  Fully nude
I stared at her chest which was right at eye level.  The black brassiere
had the same delicate silky floral pattern.  The tulips here were centered
so that they displayed her nipples through the sheer material.
   "You want to take mommy's bra off?" she asked bending forward.  "The
little clasp, there in front, just twist."
   My fingers worked the metallic clip and it came open to reveal them to
me again.  Seeing them now I wanted them in my mouth and I asked, "Mother
may I suck them?"
   "Yes you may, silly boy."
   The 'boy' part stung a bit but it was part of the game and I had myself
to blame as I'd restarted it.  At least she hadn't added 'little' to the
mix, since that might have killed it for me.  I sucked and nuzzled them
with tenderness and my hands squeezed there firmness gently.  Their beauty
couldn't be described with words that would do them justice.  It wasn't
long before I was lost in this activity as well.  I nursed at her as my
tongue flitted across the tips as if some deeply buried memory had been
triggered.  Her hand stroked across my forehead repeatedly as I did this.
   "Such a good baby, licking the tips lightly while you nurse.  Oh - yeah,
mommy loves that.  It helps her let down -" she stopped abruptly as a full
body shiver coursed through her.
   Her hand resumed stroking my forehead and I could feel her legs
trembling as she leaned against me.  When I realized I'd had her standing
all of this time, I stopped and encouraged her to join me on the bed.
   "Sorry, I should have let you sit sooner," I offered.
   "Shush, that was wonderful.  Any woman would be lucky to be on the
receiving end of that marvelous tongue of yours.  Let's swap around so we
can both get pleasured, now."
   "How do you mean?"
   "Here, you scoot up and lie flat.  I'll take you in my mouth and you do
whatever you like," she said as she crawled on top of me and positioned
herself over my face.
   I was staring directly into her tulips with my cock inside her warm
mouth.  The pleasure was intense but I suddenly realized that I could suck
and lick her pussy while she did this to me.  Soon, slurping and sucking
sounds emanated from both of us and I could feel the tension building in my
balls.  I tried to resist, but her mouth was like my kryptonite and before
I knew what'd hit me my hips thrust upward uncontrollably.  My mouth
latched on to her clit and I came.  My protests were merely hums against
her as she pressed herself downward to keep my mouth engaged.
   It would have been screams and shouts of 'oh fuck' and any number of
profanities that I could imagine as I came harder for my sister this time
than I had when she'd sucked me this morning.  As it was, I just shuddered
through it as her mouth milked every bit of my ejaculate from me.  In
return she was letting down some cream as well and it was tastier than what
she'd given me this morning.
   When she finished flinching on my tongue, she climbed off and joined me
prone on the bed.  We were both breathing raggedly and there was a light
sheen of sweat on us.  The aroma of her was thick on my face as we turned
to kiss one another, so I wasn't surprised when I tasted myself on her lips
and tongue.  The two flavors somehow matched or complemented each other as
we continued kissing.  When we broke for air, she inspected the firmness of
my cock with her hand.
   "What'd I tell you?  You're just about ready to go again."
   I looked down to see if it really were.  I don't know why I didn't
believe her at that moment, maybe it was doubt in my own ability, but sure
enough, it was springing back up.
   "Maybe we can wait a little bit," I suggested.
   "Of course, I'm tired out too.  We'll need our strength for the big
event."
   "Emma?"
   "Yes, sweetie?"
   "Thanks."
   "Don't do that, my thanks will be you going on to find someone special."
   I already had someone special and all I wanted was her, but my thoughts
were interrupted by the phone.  Emma moved from the bed and quickly
answered it with a 'Hi Mama' to tell me who it was.  However, as she
returned to the bed, she stretched the long phone cord over so she could
gently stroke me with her left hand.  Periodically, she'd cover the speaker
and suck me into her mouth.  Soon she had me as hard as I'd been earlier.
The whole thing took me by surprise but excited me to no end.
   Finally, she moved to write the number for the hotel, and said her
goodbyes.  After she hung up she smiled and sucked me back into her mouth
for several quick bobs of her head.  Then in a quick motion, she mounted me
with her pussy rubbing right against my throbbing erection.
   She leaned forward to kiss me again and then whispered in my ear, "Are
you ready to go?"
   "Uh-huh," I intoned and nodded.  Hearing those same words from the lake
took new meaning now.
   She sat back up and asked, "You want me to be 'mommy' or your
'professor'?"
   She had a wicked smile on her face and I was torn between those choices
but I knew as I felt her slip me inside and replied, "Can you be my sister
Emma, she's the sexiest woman I know?"
   Emma's eyes closed as she pressed herself downward further.  My hands
were instantly at her hips.  The feeling of being inside of her was
indescribable.  The tightness of her muscles somehow both restricted and
invited the intrusion.  The union of our bodies was a perfect match.
   "God, you're so fucking big," she gasped as I felt a soft pressure
pushing back against the tip of my penis.
   Her words undoing her previous admonition concerning size.  Her eyes
reopened as she lifted herself back off of me.
   "Are you just saying that?"
   "Paul, you're hung like a horse," she replied sincerely as she glided me
back inside.
   She had a little tremor as she reseated herself on me.  The smile wasn't
wicked any more, it was pleasure and I wanted her to be delighted with me.
I needed to please her, to hear I was doing it alright and whether she knew
that or not, she gave me exactly what I needed.
   "You like being inside your big sister, huh?" she asked as she began
rocking herself upon me.
   "Oh, yes.  You're so beautiful, gentle and loving."
   Leaning forward she offered me her breasts and changed the angle of our
coupling.  My hands moved to them and aided the right one into my awaiting
lips as I kneaded the other softly.  Her crinkled nipple tightened further
as I sucked upon it and a low moan escaped her lips.  With her weight
nearly off of me in our new position, my hips began bucking upward to meet
her downward thrusts.
   "Oh, yeah, Paul!  Fuck me with your big fat dick!  Fuck your sister
hard!"
   Her words were pushing me forward too quickly and I could feel myself
tightening again.  It felt like maybe it was another test like a 'mother
may I' command that shouldn't be followed because she had not yet said 'yes
you may'.  From somewhere down deep, I found the restraint I needed and
just continued thrusting without giving in to my own need to cum.
   Then I released her breasts and put my hands back upon her muscular hips
to force her downward onto me.  My only desire was to hear her rapture.  In
my mind those sounds she'd made when I'd caused her orgasm with my mouth
and tongue were the only praise I needed.  As I watched the expressions on
her face, I wondered what words I might use to effect her as she had me. 
Then I stumbled upon the idea at once.
   "Are you going to cum on your baby brother's dick Emma?" I asked as her
breath came pantingly.
   "Uh-huh."
   "You like having me inside you, huh?"
   "Yesss, it's so naughty.  You like it too, don't you?"
   "You know I love it and I love hearing you cum.  I want to watch you
when it happens, so I can draw you."
   "Oh, yes - draw me in the midst of ecstasy!"
   "Tell me what to do."
   "I want you to squirt your cum inside me."
   I wanted to desperately, but I didn't think I could take another
failure, "Climax for me first."
   "Trust - me - I - will," she said between collisions.
   I could tell things were changing inside her.  She was gripping my cock
ever more tightly.  Her breath was becoming more jagged, her grunts and
moans more forceful.  Our pace increased and I knew there would be no
holding back soon.  I could feel it building to the point that I would
normally close my eyes and erupt, but I couldn't.  Watching her climax was
the only thing that could make it better and so, I told her I was.
   "I'm - cumming - oh - fuck - Emma!  You're - making - me - cum!"
   My thrusts sharpened and as I pounded into her, I watched the most
beautiful woman I knew orgasm atop me.  The orgasm I experienced was earth
shattering.  The roar in my ears drown out all sounds.  I could see she was
shouting and bucking me wildly and those images would be captured forever;
emblazoned on the canvas of my mind.  They would require color to properly
depict, no mere graphite would suffice.  When the roaring subsided I was
still twitch-thrusting into her as she clenched down upon me.  She trembled
atop me, frozen in place by a force that paired us forever.
   "I love you, Emma," I said defeatedly.  I could feel her withdraw from
me emotionally as I'd said the words.  Even as they had tumbled from my
mouth, I knew she couldn't mirror my feelings.
   "You don't have to reciprocate it, but I do love you," I told her
softly.
   "That was truly amazing, Paul," she replied after a time.  Then she
climbed off and lay beside me.  "I wish I could let myself, but I can't. 
It would never work, we'd be shunned by everyone."
   "I know, but it doesn't change how I feel."
   "I need you to be able to move on after this summer, or we're going to
have to stop.  I could never live with myself if I hurt you."
   "I'm going to try, Emma," I said resolutely.
   "You need to promise, we need to keep some distance, emotionally."
   "Okay."
   "Promise."
   "Okay, I promise."
   "Say the whole thing," she insisted.
   "I promise I'll love you as a sister and move on after this summer."
   I already wanted to cry.  It was a promise that hurt to my core.  I
think she could see it and she hopped from the bed.
   "Come on let's get a shower," she said pulling me to join her.
   In the shower we washed one another gently and caressed each other until
the water turned cold.  When we got out and dried off, I'd wanted to return
to her room, but she was enforcing emotional separation with physical
distance.
   "We shouldn't sleep together, it'll just make it harder," she said. 
"You were a very good lover tonight and you'll make a great catch for a
nice lady.  It'll get easier."
   It disappointed me some, okay maybe a lot, but I tried to understand it
from her point of view, too.  She was really hurt by Bo, maybe worse than I
was by Jenny, so I let it go, for the time being.  I wasn't sure it'd get
easier but I was fairly determined to try and eventually sleep together.
   Back in my room I thought about Mme Soliel or maybe just someone like
her.  I wondered half aloud Would it be so bad if I looked for someone like
Emma?  Suddenly the vision of her in climax on top of my cock was revisited
upon me.  I needed to commit it to paper now and then again once I had the
right tools.  As I pulled the sketch pad from the drawer, I realized I
would need to go to town or maybe even to the city for colored pencils or
maybe some pastels.  I'd tried soft pastels in art class, and hadn't really
liked the feeling of them.  But now, I felt they might be the only way I
could render her properly.
   Climbing into my bed, I turned to the last picture of Emma.  It was the
last picture I'd drawn, in several days.  Recent distractions, that'd
followed that evening when she'd posed so I could capture the details of
her pussy, had evidently put me off.  Tonight I found new energy pulsing
through me that needed to be released.  Often after orgasm, I just wanted
to sleep but tonight, there would be no rest until this portrait was
complete.  If I'd thought the art store in town were open and had the
supplies I needed, I might have gotten dressed and gone there immediately,
but this gray-scale would have to do tonight.
   I probably spent an hour drawing and when I'd finished, I found I was
fully erect again.  I selfishly wished that I could have stayed in Emma's
bed.  The pad returned to its drawer, I pulled out the cloth and thought
about some blended person awaiting me out there that looked like the two
women I longed for, but couldn't have.  Four times in one day might have
been a new record for me and I fell asleep with the comforting thought that
I could do that for someone.  That idea was mixed with a deep longing to
find her or maybe convince her.
   Over the ensuing days, we agreed we'd work on the lake shack every day
after chores.  The chores were really beginning to diminish as the plants
became much hardier.  The first day, we went to town to get several bags of
concrete for the footings.  After we got them, I went to the craft store to
see if they had the supplies I needed in stock.  I got a new pad, a couple
larger professional drawing tablets and a sizable colored pencil set.  They
didn't have the soft pastels and told me I'd have to go to a store in
Burlington to get those.
   Back at the farm, we dropped those items off at the house and then drove
down to the lake.  We got the concrete set and went skinny-dipping while it
dried.  Emma had me take her from behind as she hung from the ladder.  It
seemed to excite us both to no end as I clung to her and lifted myself into
her over and over.  Sated we went back to the house and ate dinner.  After
we cleaned up, we had sex again on the sofa and one last time in the
shower.
   As we continued on the structure each day, we took several opportunities
to repeat our swim habit and almost always ended up having sex during or
after.  We'd done it in the water, on the rock and dock.  I'd repeated
taking her from behind at the ladder a couple of times as that seemed to
excite her the most.  They were some of the best days of my life.
   The day we finished the structure, we made love there too.  We'd brought
a new hammock and connected it between two of the supports.  It made a
really decent open but covered structure that I looked forward to using
again.  When evening came, she invited me to sleep with her and I eagerly
accepted.  It felt like we must be falling in love, to me.  I clung to her
during and after making love to her.  I lost count of the number of times
we'd done it, but the times that night had meant the most.
   The next day we finished making a fire-pit.  We took another long
sexcapade on the dock and then a couple times in the shack.  Unfortunately
when we'd returned to the house, Mama and Papa had as well.  We'd driven
back to find the wagon parked at the front porch and they were sitting
together on the front swing.  I knew I must smell pungent as I could taste
Emma on myself from where we'd given one another mutual oral in the
hammock; Emma said it was called sixty-nine.
   Seeing the wagon gave us both a scare but Emma was the first to speak,
"Okay, we'll have to cool it for now."
   "Yeah, I know," I said dejectedly.
   "Take that sad puppy dog look off your face, Mama will see it for sure.
We can still sneak down there," she said trying to cheer me up.
   "Okay, that'll help.  What'll I do about the smell of you on my face
right now though?"
   "Use the wet part of that towel before you get out and don't get too
close to them."
   She parked over by the shed to give me time and then we both got out of
the truck together and approached the porch.
   "You both look rested and happy," I offered.  "Does that mean you found
something?"
   "Yes we did.  We just need to make an offer," Pops said.
   "It's a smaller farm, with nothing but an old run down barn but we think
we can make that weather proof enough to use while we build."
   "I guess that means I need to get that loan going.  Paul said he'd help
me look at financing."
   "Yeah, I'll go get washed up and we'll start on it right after dinner,"
I offered.
   "We finished the shack, down by the lake," Emma told them.
   As I climbed the steps to the front porch, I could feel Mama looking at
me closely.  I opened the screen door, went quickly through and jogged up
the stairs to the bathroom.  Behind the closed door I observed myself in
the mirror and realized that look was on my face again.  It was a happy or
satisfied look, but there was something else there.  The most important
thought I had was that I wondered what Mama thought the look meant.  It was
the second time I'd felt her gaze judging or perhaps weighing my character.
I climbed in the shower and washed myself vigorously in an attempt to make
certain there were no residual odors from my activities with Emma.
   When I finished, I went directly to my room to get some graph paper and
a calculator to help Emma with her purchase plan.  Heading back down the
stairs, I wondered how quickly Mama and Pops would want her to pay off the
part she didn't get from the bank and how much she had set aside already.
   The evening went pretty smoothly, we had a dinner of left overs and I
helped clear away the dishes with Emma.  Mama and Pops gave me a rough
time-frame based upon his retirement in about five years.  He could
technically retire right now, but it would have been at a reduced level. 
They were going to start building as soon as his leg was strong again but
would come back for planting this year and again to help with harvests for
the first few years.
   Emma had enough for about a third of the total cost of the farm.  I
guess Papa had been paying her fairly well over the past twenty years.  It
made me wonder why she and Bo hadn't worked on some kind of an arrangement.
In any case we'd go to the bank and get a loan based upon the equity in the
farm.  Mom and Pops would be silent partners until she paid them off their
forty-nine percent.  We all thought if things kept going the way they were,
she would probably be able to do the five years Pops was hoping to have. 
He said he'd be flexible if there were any hard years that would be the
only thing that might throw off our schedule.
   Everything settled, Mama and Pops went to bed and Emma and I chatted a
bit more.  She was getting a little nervous about all of this, but she was
also very excited as well.  It was a big move and my ability to help her a
little made me feel pretty good about things between us.  Despite them
being home and downstairs, we went straight to her room and had a quick but
nice session.
   Over the next few days, there were lots of trips to banks and
negotiations to get the lowest rates for the difference to make her the
major shareholder.  It was a total blur of activity and included Mama and
Pops making an offer on the smaller place in South Carolina.
   Following that Emma and I resumed our role-play training dates.  She'd
come up with a cover story for Mama that we were practicing so I could meet
and court someone during my senior year in college.  Mama had agreed I
needed to settle down after school and get started on a family.  When she'd
said that I thought for a moment that there was a flitting expression of
sorrow or anger on Emma's face, but it was so brief that I wasn't sure.
   I also took a couple days to do a nice big portrait of her sitting out
under the maple tree.  It was the second one that I used my colored pencils
to draw, she hadn't seen the other one of herself in climax.  Mama was
fascinated with this and she hovered by me often to see the progress.  I
guess it was a good thing I'd chosen to use the new larger sketch tablet.
   When the colored sketch was complete Mama insisted on getting it framed
for Emma.  She wanted it to be hung in Emma's new house above the mantle
and she said she'd like one of her and Pops in the swing.  I agreed and she
left us to start on dinner.
   When Emma saw the finished piece, she was really happy and hugged me
tightly after looking at it for a long while.  Then she whispered in my
ear, "I still want one more.  One that Mama and Papa can't see."
   "I've already started on the small version of that, but I think I might
need to have you sit for it again so I can get it just right."
   That got a little punch and a giggling, "Okay, maybe down by the lake."
   "Alright, but I want our last time to be special."
   "What we've had all summer has been special, sweetie."
   "Yes, that's not what I was trying -"
   "I know what you're saying, I just don't want to make it so special you
can't let go."
   It was well beyond that point in my mind, but I said, "It would be nice
to make love in the house again."
   "We'll figure something out."
   The last days of my summer vacation were quickly disappearing and there
was a certain anxiety about it ending.  It wasn't just leaving my Emma and
the farm, it was that my life was probably going to be changing soon. 
Graduating would mean getting a job and working.  There wouldn't be time
for lengthy visits like this anymore.  Plus, the next time I came here,
Mama and Pops would likely be moved.  Change was coming and I could feel
it.
   The sketch of Mama and Papa was finished the weekend before I was to
leave.  I worked on Emma's in my room and we had a couple of lengthy
sessions at the shack by the lake.  What hadn't happened yet was our last
time together and as much as I was looking forward to that, I also dreaded
it.  We hadn't spoken about it much as we'd worked hard to get things ready
for harvest.  We hooked the baler to the tractor and baled about thirty
acres of hay.  Pops insisted on driving some too, so we had to help him up
onto it and back down when he was done.  Some of the corn was being picked
for market, but they'd have to run the combine after I'd gone.
   When my last day came, I'd begun to think that we wouldn't even have a
last session.  I spent much of my time packing.  I'd gathered all of my old
sketch books and all of my new art supplies into a new bag I'd gotten. 
After dinner I'd been packing the last of my belongings to head back to
school.  There was still going to be a considerable amount of clothes and
property here, but I wondered when or if I'd ever retrieve them.  I was
about to call it a night when she'd shown up in my room to take me to hers.
Before we went I gave her the large finished sketch of her in climax.  It
was very erotic and I wished I could keep it for myself, but I knew I was
going to make another one.
   She practically pulled me to her secluded room.  There she hid the
sketch in a large Christmas wrapping paper tube.  We began to undress one
another and I could feel my hands trembling.
   "You don't think they'll hear, right?"
   "This room is on the opposite side from the addition and they're dead
tired from working over the last several days."
   "Emma?"
   "What, sweetie?"
   "I just want to tell you how much I appreciate what you've been doing
for me."
   "Paul, knock it off.  I love you."
   "I will love you for the rest of my life."
   "I know, Paul.  You can't hide your feelings very well."
   "So, you let me continue anyway."
   "I've enjoyed this as much as you.  After tonight, it'll be different."
   "Yeah, it will."
   "Come here, you," she said pulling me to the bed.
   "Make love to your big sister one last time."
   I joined her on the bed and nuzzled against her for a long time.  My
love embroiled emotions a mixture of rapture and loss.  We made love that
night for the longest time.  I stubbornly refused to cum until I'd seen a
couple of big orgasms from her.  She let me sleep in her bed that night and
we made our peace with parting as best as we could.  I could tell it was
giving her some trouble too, but I knew she was right.  We would never be
accepted together and maybe there was someone out there for me.
   The bus ride back to college was long and grueling.  My new sketch pad
remained in my back pack most of the trip because I simply couldn't focus
on the countryside like I had during the journey home.  I'd gathered all of
the old ones and the larger ones and put them in a new traveling bag to
protect them.
   Emma stayed in my thoughts throughout the journey.  When she'd pressed
me to promise I'd find someone when I got back to college that last night,
it'd hurt.  That was what all of the practice had been about from her point
of view.  To my mind it wasn't quite that clear; the night I'd told her I
only loved her after we'd been intimate flooded my emotions.  Tears
streamed down my face at one point during the trip, those words held the
raw truth in my heart, while the landscape passed by outside my window.
   It felt a little weird leaving Emma to tackle the farm nearly alone. 
I'd helped with the plan and she was a smart woman, but I could see there
was some doubt in her eyes when we parted.  There would be costs to some of
the ideas I'd given her about niche markets and growing plants in off
season required infrastructure she didn't have yet.
   Mama and Pops would be there to help some, but I could see he wanted to
start building their retirement home as soon as possible.  If his leg had
been up to it, they might have just stayed down there for the rest of the
year.  As it was, they'd work on it during the winters until it was
finished.  Pops just didn't want someone else building it because he knew
it wouldn't be like he wanted it and he could do it more cost effectively.
Once they moved, they could live with what they had in savings and with the
profits she would pay down the rest of what was owed.  Emma would finish
paying them about the time he retired and their social security would kick
in when they officially retired.
   Back at the university, my thoughts of Emma continued for the first
couple weeks.  It nagged at the back of my mind during the introductory
week of classes that is always so slow and boring.  I spent many evenings
reliving our contacts, but eventually, I reverted to my old behavior. 
Things weren't quite like after the breakup with Jenny, but I definitely
turned inward and became more focused on school.  In a way my proving
myself to her replaced or displayed my need for her to consider me as her
real true love.
   What had started out as a slow senior year, quickly became the routine
of classes, homework and tests.  Before I knew what'd happened, I was so
engaged with everything that routine things were almost passing by in a
flash.  Maybe it'd happened because I was super busy or perhaps I was
merely occupying myself so I wouldn't obsess about Emma.  In any case, I
found myself a decent paying entry level position with a great business to
augment my fall semester classes.  After the first month went well, they'd
promised me that they would be making me a full employee with an above
average starting salary, once I obtained my business degree.  I was saving
much of the money I was making and doing pretty well.  As far as I could
determine, everything was back on track after my summer break.
   My classes were going great, I was focused and making progress on a
business career.  Everything was happening according to plan.  Of course,
I'm certain that is what everyone thinks right before the universe takes
notice and tilts the tables.  That's how it was for me, right up until the
following spring.  In a split second my life changed, I just hadn't known
it at the time.
   It was a beautiful spring afternoon and we'd gotten out of our business
class late.  I was rushing from the lecture hall to the residence parking,
so I could get to my 'job/internship'.  That was when IT happened.  I
thought I was paying attention but evidently I was distracted.  I don't
recall exactly what I was doing, perhaps I was lost in thought or had been
looking down or at the trees again or I don't know what...  But there she
was, lying on the grass, with books and papers strewn everywhere.
   "Oh my God, Madame Soliel!  I'm so sorry," I said rushing to pick up her
books, papers and offer her a hand.
   "Where are you going in such a hurry, Monsieur Rocinante?" she asked,
once she'd recovered a bit.
   I felt her looking at me, awaiting an answer.  There was an answer, I
simply couldn't remember what it was as I stood there staring at her.  Emma
was right; she did know I existed, she remembered my name.  It'd been
nearly a year since I'd seen her and she'd used my name to ask me where I
was going.  Here she was, standing right in front of me with that same
lovely white flowing dress from last year.  That was where the déjà vu
ended though, because now there was a green grass stain upon the hip.  Her
left hand was rubbing it and that was the moment I noticed that the rings
were gone and the lighter skin stood out just a bit against the green.
   Finally, breaking through my mortification, I said, "I've ruined you're
lovely dress." I rushed on and offered, "I'll be happy to pay for another
one," even though I had no idea what such a lovely garment might cost.
   "You'll do no such thing," she said.  Finally, looking down and away
from my eyes to observe what had my attention, she continued, "This old
thing can easily be cleaned." Her gaze returning to mine, she asked "Where
are you off to in such a rush?  Will you be graduating at the end of the
semester?"
   "I feel terrible about running into you.  Are you sure you're okay?"
   "I'm not a fragile old woman -"
   I cut her off quickly trying to avoid any slight, "Oh, I never meant
anything like that.  I just would never have - I'm sorry," I said, casting
my eyes downward.
   When she moved to step back onto the sidewalk, I noticed that there was
a hitch in her step.  I couldn't quite figure out what I was feeling. 
There were jitters in my stomach, a knot in my throat, and inexplicably a
wet warmth on my cheek.  She was the injured party, but I was the one
feeling pained.
   "Paul?  What's the matter?  Paul?"
   "I've injured you and ruined your dress.  It's the last thing in the
world I would have wanted.  Where were you headed, please, let me carry
these for you," I said instinctively moving to her.
   "Don't be silly, give me those," she said reaching for the stack.  "Oh,
ouch," she said taking a step back.
   "Please, lean on me.  I'll take you to the campus infirmary."
   "I'm fine, I just need to - oowww."
   "Please, let me help, I'm so very sorry."
   Finally, she relented and she took my arm to lean on as she walked
limpingly across the remaining distance to the infirmary.  Inside they were
apparently having an idle day, so they took her right in to get checked out
while I waited.  When she was released, about half an hour later, I was
there waiting with her books and papers.  I apologized profusely again
several times, all of which she dismissed.
   "Should I call your husband to come and fetch you?" I asked near the
exit doors.
   "Non, il capte trois fois rien!  Il a me quitté," she said, a little
angrily.
   In my excited and confused state I asked, "He's dead?"
   I'd caught the 'he knows nothing' or more accurately 'three times
nothing', but inexplicably, I'd misunderstood the last part and was
instantly ashamed that my French had gotten so poor in under a year's time.
   "No, sorry he's just left me.  It's a long sad story and I shan't bore
you with it."
   "Well, at least allow me to drive you home."
   "Okay, young man, I will," she yielded.
   I walked her outside with her leaning less upon me than before.  I
helped her to sit upon a bench beneath a big old white elm tree that was
leafing out.
   "You stay here, I'll pull my truck around."
   She waited outside in the beautiful spring weather, while I went with
her things to residents parking to get my vehicle and back to retrieve her.
I parked as close to the bench as I could, and then got out to assist her
to the truck.
   "You're limping a little less now," I commented as I helped her into the
seat of my old Datsun.
   "Oh, yes, it's feeling much better.  I shall be perfectly fine in no
time at all."
   I closed the door, walked around, hopped in the driver seat, started the
truck and clutched into first gear.  "You'll have to direct me to your
home."
   I drove as she navigated me down the main drag and then into her
neighborhood which was not far from campus.  It was a much higher end area
than I'd expected.  I found it absolutely splendid, especially the views,
since many of the properties backed right up against Union Bay.  That
included hers, I discovered as she guided me into her driveway.  Her house
surpassed the impressiveness of many around it and had a majestic Alaskan
Cedar in the wedge between the walk and driveway.  I hopped out and moved
quickly around to her door, so I could help her down.  She already had the
door open and took my aid from the seat, up the sidewalk and steps to her
door, although she was only loosely holding my arm.  When we got to the
porch, I opened and held the storm door for her as she got the keys from
her purse.
   "Please come in," she said after opening her door.  I followed her in
and stayed by her side until she seated herself safely on the living room
sofa.
   "Let me retrieve your books and papers and I'll be right back," I said
and quickly dashed back out to gather her belongings.
   It'd all happened so quickly, I hadn't had time to process where I was
or how I was feeling other than sad regret.  Back inside her lavish home, I
placed the stack of books and papers on a straight back chair beside a
beautiful cherry drop-leaf table by the front window.  On the far end of
the table in a frame that was certainly gold-leaf and ebony stood the
sketch I'd made of her just over a year ago with the signature clearly
visible.  On the end closest to me, there was a spot on the table top that
was distinctly lighter and in the shape of one of those hinged picture
frame clusters.  In an instant I realized that it must have been removed
recently, the sun's darkening effects not having had time to change the
spot.
   Another pang of guilt washed over me and the words came tumbling out as
I went to her, "I'm so very sorry I injured you and sorrier still that you
have no one at home to help you out."
   "You sweet child, I'm done with him.  He's off to procreate with someone
that can."
   I knew she wasn't insulting me, but being called 'child' felt odd.  At
the same time her words piqued my curiosity and I couldn't restrain my
question, "I don't mean to pry, but are you saying he left you because you
can't have children?"
   "Yes, Paul, we've been trying for many years now," she said pausing. 
"We've both undergone treatments but we both have issues.  Regardless, I'm
done with all that; c'est fini!  The old fool is over fifty, but feels he
needed heirs to be a man.  He'll be off to take a new professorship in
Florida with his twenty year old secretary beneath him by June," she said
with a sardonic tone.
   I could feel my mouth ajar; she was simply too lovely and gentle a soul
to have been abandoned this way.  "What an idiot," I said feeling the words
tumble from my lips.
   That comment didn't end the discussion uncomfortably, instead, we
chatted for a couple of hours.  We talked about ourselves and made small
talk.  I found out that her accent wasn't an affect, she was actually born
in France and came to this country at age thirteen.  I talked about my
internship/job and upcoming graduation until it was late in the afternoon.
Several times during the interaction, Emma's coaching had me considering
asking her out but the timing never seemed quite right.  There was also
that thought I couldn't shake - she thought of me as a child.  I was
physically and emotionally attracted to her, but somehow she still held
that 'unattainable - out of my reach' quality.  As afternoon became
evening, I asked her if I could make her some dinner but she insisted she'd
be fine and by that time she was walking around with almost no noticeable
limp, so I bid her good evening and left to go back to the dorm.
   I called work the next day to tell them what'd happened and they were
all right with the missed day.  They were very happy to hear I'd taken care
of the incident so responsibly.  I hadn't really thought about it that way,
but I guess in a certain light maybe they were correct.
   Over the next few days I thought about her and her recovery.  I dropped
by the French department a few times, but never ran into her.
   On my fourth appearance, her personal secretary there informed me that,
"Yes, Professor Soliel is doing fine; I'll let her know you've been by to
check on her."
   Her voice had an odd tone, and I couldn't quite tell what it implied.  I
knew she was the department head, and therefore important and busy, but
there was an annoyed or perhaps disapproving quality to the way she'd
spoken to me.  As I left, I felt that at least I knew she was better and
that raised my spirits.  We weren't especially close, it'd been a platonic
relationship by any measure even with the flirtatiousness I'd felt from her
and my unrequited feelings for her.  So, I went on with my daily routine as
the end of the semester approached.
   I got a care package from Emma with some money, cookies and a book for
graduation.  As I pulled the book from the brown paper wrapping it was a
glossy hardcover copy of 'The Bridge Across Forever', by Richard Bach. 
That night I started reading it and found myself in love with the concept
of finding my soulmate.  It had me thinking about her upon several
occasions with my recent encounter with Professor Soliel so freshly in my
mind.  With the exception of their hair styles, the two of them were like
twins separated by time.
   The last week of my senior year, I was invited to a party for top
students being held at the chancellor's house.  It was a semi-formal dress
code and we were allowed to bring dates, I simply didn't have anyone to
bring.  I arranged to be off the Friday of the party and when the evening
arrived, I put on the very best work clothes I owned.  I had a white shirt,
a thin black tie, navy pants with a matching jacket, a black belt and some
black wingtip shoes.
   I arrived just a little late, fifteen minutes or so, and there was
already quite a crowd assembled.  They were having the party outside, with
the backdrop of the bay, in the perfect late spring weather.  There was a
large covered pavilion in case there was some notorious Seattle rain, but
luck was with them this year and things were idyllic.
   There wasn't any dinner, but there were plenty of hor d'oeuvres, an open
bar and live music for dancing.  I mixed and mingled with my fellow
graduating classmates, university board members and quite a few department
heads.  I'd kept my eye open for Mme Soliel and had given up hope on seeing
her, when she found me.
   "Bonsoir, Paul."
   "Bonsoir, Madame Soliel."
   "Please, Paul, call me Joy."
   "Okay, Joy.  I'm very happy to see you are doing better," I offered and
then realized she was leaning in to give me a hug.
   "Thank you," she said, squeezing me tightly.
   That was followed abruptly and surprisingly by a kiss on each cheek.  I
was frozen in place momentarily, probably in shock.  She was wearing a most
lovely white dress, very similar to the one I believed I'd ruined.  This
one hugged her torso all the way to her waist and it flowed outward from
there.  She wore a pair of matching high heels but apparently no stockings.
I realized I was staring again as I appraised her looking slowly up her
body until I reached her face.  She was blushing even more profusely than
she had that afternoon on the quad.
   "You certainly know how to make a woman feel appreciated," she said
gently touching my shoulder.
   "I - I didn't mean to stare, you're beautiful."
   "It's quite alright; you're eyes already told me that," she said in a
playful tone.  "Where's your date?"
   "I don't have one," I said a little dejected.
   "We'll have to stick together then."
   What followed was the most enchanting evening I had ever experienced. 
Joy never left my side for the rest of that evening.  We ate, drank,
chatted and danced together.  She was a joy to be with in every sense of
the word her name carried.  Her mood seemed much better tonight and we
enjoyed each other's company right through to the party winding down.  By
that time, we had had our share of drinks and I could tell that we were
both a little tipsy.
   When the band finished playing and guests started leaving, Joy said,
"Instead of you driving, why don't we just walk to my home.  It's only a
few blocks from here and I have a guest room."
   "What about your hip?"
   "Really, I'm fine, stop worrying over such a trifle.  The bruise was
gone in a week and I walked here tonight."
   Looking at her shoes, I asked, "In those?"
   "I'm really not an old lady, Paul."
   Somehow, I'd made her think that again, "I didn't mean any offense; they
don't look like shoes for walking."
   "So, it's settled?"
   "Sure, but it's your turn to lead," I said playfully.
   With that, we set out from the party arm in arm and arrived at her home
in about ten minutes.  The walk had been significantly shorter than I'd
even expected, and we arrived abruptly.  Well, it felt abrupt, because I
didn't recognize her place in the darkened dimly lit private street.  So
when she'd turned to walk up her sidewalk and I'd kept walking. 
Inadvertently, I had run my hand across her ample bosom.  It had been an
accident, but I couldn't help realize her nipple was extremely erect when
I'd made contact.  They had been in various stages of excitement the whole
evening, but the actual brief contact made me aware of just how excited she
appeared to be now, outside her home.
   She had simply said, "C'est moi.  This is me."
   At the top of the steps, she fumbled with her purse to locate the keys,
"I should have left the porch light on."
   I popped out and thumbed the igniter on my gold lighter, the high school
graduation gift from my uncle, and held it so she could see.  "Does this
help?" I asked.
   "Yes, thanks."
   What I noticed in the flickering light was that her dark nipples were
still very erect and somehow this lighting emphasized their pertness.  We'd
danced several times tonight, but only now was I finding myself becoming
fully erect.  Soon, she had the door open, the inside light on and was
inviting me into her home again.
   "Please come in, Paul."
   "You sure it'll be okay for me to stay here tonight?"
   "Just consider it repayment for your kind assistance the other day."
   "It was the least I could do," I said softly.
   I followed her inside and she closed the door behind me.  Once inside I
noticed there were more items missing from her formal living room and I
presumed that her husband had returned to take the remainder of his
belongings.  She noted me looking around.
   "Yes, he came to remove the last of his things some weeks ago.  Our
divorce is final, that's where I've been the last few weeks.  It's been a
terrible mess.  He was trying to just have it annulled but I didn't want
that."
   "How long had you been together?"
   "Fifteen years.  We were married shortly after I took a position at the
university here."
   I quickly tried to re-estimate her age, since I was such a terrible
judge of it, and realized she was probably in her mid to late forties.  My
earlier thinking, that she was about my mother's age, had been a terrible
disservice to her.  Mama was approaching sixty so I'd been off by fifteen
years.  Although I couldn't be sure, I estimated Joy was probably only
about five to ten years older than my sister Emma.  Mama had her when she
was nineteen and they got married just before she was born.
   "So he just wanted to split and not share what you'd built together."
   "He was trying to protect the proceeds of his books.  He's written
several calculus text books, and the truth is I edited every one of them."
   "You definitely should get some kind of remuneration for that."
   I found myself in an embrace and I couldn't quite fathom what'd brought
it on.  She just kept repeating 'Paul' through the sobs.  I returned her
hug and rested my face upon her head.  The scent of her hair was heavenly;
there was an underlying rose smell, but there was another odor, more
arousing and attractive to my senses.  I could feel the blood rushing from
my head into my groin.
   Joy must have felt it pressing against her belly, because her sobs
diminished and her hand shifted to grasp my member through my pants.  I
stood there holding her, stroking her back gently as she continued to grope
me openly.  My rigidness only increased as I felt her hand undo my zipper
and reach inside.  When she reached through my boxers and wrapped her
fingers around my stiff cock, I was paralyzed.
   There was a part of my reptilian brain that wanted what she was offering
me freely.  It desperately desired her and was eager to participate in
anything she wished of me.  However, the mammalian layer must have
understood that she was too vulnerable and even a little intoxicated.  I
would comfort, protect and hold her dear, but her wounds were too recently
opened to allow it to go further, at least tonight.
   "Joy, it's going to get better.  You're a beautiful woman," I whispered,
as I continued patting her gently.
   "Please, Paul, I need you."
   "I want that more than you know Madame Soliel - Joy.  We can't.  Not
now," I attempted to soothe her.
   "Don't you find me attractive either?"
   "Yes, with every fiber of my being, but I could never take advantage of
this - this moment of sadness."
   As if that were a cue, she slid her dress top downward.  In the dimly
lit room, I looked down to find my bra-less assessment was correct as I saw
the side of her unencumbered breast pressed against me lightly.  It
transfixed me with its excited dark nipples and lovely fullness.  Her left
hand found my right hand and directed it to hold her bare breast.  The
digits of her right hand returned to my boxers and encircled me again.  The
soft warmth of her hand on me was agonizingly exhilarating.
   "Do you not want me?" she breathed.
   "Oh, God yes.  I do, but -"
   "Sweet boy - sorry - sweet young man, please," she asked almost begging.
   "I will lie with you Joy, but we'll have to wait -"
   "Yes, would you lie with me; be with me?" she interrupted me and began
pulling me by the hand toward the hall.
   I followed behind her with the top of her dress draped over the flowing
part.  At the doorway she turned back toward me and encouraged me to
continue following.  Her skin was like flawless white marble and her deep
red rose colored nipples were fully erect.  I followed helplessly enchanted
by her, my will faltering.  She led me into a large darkened room, where I
heard her high-heels thump against a piece of nearby furniture and presumed
she'd kicked them off.  Then I watched her outline bend to turn on a lamp
beside her canopy top poster bed that came suddenly into view.  It must
have been a three-way bulb, because the second click made it the tiniest
bit brighter and I could see her more clearly.  Her breasts enticing me
ever closer.
   She released my hand and removed the dress entirely, lifting it over her
head and tossing it on top of the shoes by an ornate blanket chest near the
foot of the bed.  Beneath her dress were only a pair of silky white panties
with a clear section in the shape of a tulip that fully displayed hers
beneath.  She bent and those were removed as well.  I found myself staring
at her completely nude form.  She was magnificent for any age.  Her golden
blond pubic area grabbed my attention immediately.  It wasn't unkempt, like
Emma's or Jenny's had been; it was full, but neatly trimmed and her flooded
lips extended beyond the edge.  My mind clicked off sketches that I might
render later.  To me this woman was worthy of the title princess.
   She turned from me again to fold down the comforter and sheet of her bed
and slid onto it invitingly.  Once in she moved to the far side with her
eyes agog.  Her desperation for me to join her palpable, I simply couldn't
reject her for fear it might crush any spirit that remained in her beyond
repair.
   My mouth finally formed the words I was thinking, "You are the most
beautiful woman, Joy."
   Her eyes seemed to dance with joy as I began removing my clothing. 
While I tossed each item in the floor beside hers, I kept my gaze upon her.
In my daydream last spring, I don't think I could have imagined her being
so lovely.
   As I finished removing my clothes, she reached out to me, "Please, join
me here."
   I slid onto the bed beside her, fully nude.  Her face came to mine and
joined me in a blissful kiss.  Our lips hungrily meeting and sucking at the
others.  Her feminine smell mixed with the taste of her in my mouth and it
was intoxicating.  The absurd thoughts I'd had about her last spring felt
childish and simplistic when presented with the reality of her.  Our hands
roamed freely caressing each other gently over and over.  My right hand
found her left breast again and cupped it.  Her hand reached for my manhood
and stroked it gently.
   Although, there was an intensity to her, she wasn't rushing to move
beyond gentle foreplay.  I allowed myself to explore her as she did me, but
gently avoided any pressure to proceed beyond petting.  In the soft light
the night stand lamp offered, I was amazed at the smoothness of her skin.
Her breasts were a little less busty and firm than Emma's but they were
lovely.  The teats poked out prominently and she pulled my head downward
toward one.  As I drew it into my mouth she let out soft moans of 'yes' and
nuzzled my head against herself.  The stiff crinkle of flesh gave slightly
as I twirled it gently between my tongue and upper lip.
   Her hands resumed gently kneading and caressing my cock while she
enjoyed my adoration of her breasts.  I spent time sucking and licking each
in turn as I moved from one to the other.  I found that my tongue wriggling
against the indentation at the tip excited her to no ends.  Murmurs of
'please' and more French slang fill the ambiance of her bedchamber.  My
cock strained stiffly against her soft hand and I knew if we continued like
this we would end up going too far.  As much as I desired to complete that
dream and relive it tonight, I couldn't allow us to ford that channel until
we had our wits about us.
   Slowly I deescalated the session, by returning to kissing her sweet ruby
lips.  My hand moved to her glorious blond curls of hair and her arms
wrapped around me to hug me tightly.  Our tongues played back and forth as
we lost ourselves in bliss.  Soft petting and kissing relaxed into a near
sleep state and we must have drifted off.
   When morning came, the windows' sheers were alight with the sun.  The
smell of home cooked breakfast and coffee came into my senses as I looked
about the lavishly decorated boudoir.  Moments later Joy appeared with a
silver serving tray that had a breakfast fit for a king.
   "Bonjour, mon cher," she bid me good morning, and joined me back in bed
from the far side.
   With the tray between us, she leaned in for a kiss and that was when I
knew.  The doubts I'd had last night were washed away, at least for the
moment.  There could still be problems if I were just a rebound affair, but
this didn't feel like that.  I could have been being naïve again, but the
kiss was warm and loving.  My excitement beneath the sheet was soon evident
to us both and she patted it softly.
   "First some nourishment for the body, then we take our nourishment for
the soul," she said sitting up to serve me.
   The small bone china plate she handed me had a soft boiled egg, toast
already spread with butter and preserves.  She had cups filled with coffee
and cream and sugar at the ready.
   "Do you take cream and sugar?"
   "Yes, please."
   She placed two cubes of sugar in each cup, poured cream in from a little
silver pitcher and then stirred them with a dainty silver spoon.
   "Bon appétit," I said with my best accent.  "This is so lovely, I don't
even know what to say."
   "Just eat my dear.  I want you to have your strength."
   We both laughed together and although we hadn't really done much last
night, I was suddenly famished.  We each ate and watched one another.  Joy
took small bites and chewed softly.  I attempted to be on my best dining
behavior, but it was hard to master the finesse she seemed to have.  The
egg was delicious, just the right temperature and she'd added a tiny bit of
salt and butter.  The coffee was exceptionally good quality as well.  I
didn't drink it often, but the flavor was superior to any I'd tasted.  I
had to wonder at the lavishness of this simple meal and its presentation.
   "Did you make these strawberry preserves?"
   "No, but they are from a local farm."
   I about choked on my toast at her words.  "I grew up on a farm."
   "I grew up on a small farm in France and we moved here when I was a
teenager," she said, bending to lick some preserves from the corner of my
mouth.
   A shiver went up my spine, as she tasted me.  My cock, which had been
softening a bit, sprang back at her touch.  Her eyes darted to look upon it
as she resumed her position.
   "Paul, I want to thank you for making me wait.  It must have been very
difficult for you."
   "I'm still worried about your emotional state.  You're divorce was
finalized so recently."
   "Yes, but the marriage had been over for a long time.  He hasn't lived
here in over a year and we hadn't been together since I discovered he was
cheating on me."
   I knew it was crazy to be finding all of these things out about her
while sitting with her in the nude, but I honestly felt quite at ease with
her.  Last night I had almost opened my heart to her after it'd been closed
off for so long.  The possibilities she presented felt wonderful and I was
eager to allow myself to open it again.  The idea that she might be my
soulmate crept into my mind like a vole into an exposed field with hawks
circling above.  Could she be the one?
   "I don't want you to rush into anything you can't undo."
   "There's no rush, but I desire you even more this morning."
   "I'm not too young?" I asked her blushing and feeling stupid for asking.
   "Je veux que tu me baises dur et rapide," she said as she cleared away
the tray and breakfast items from the bed.
   I wanted to fuck her hard and fast as she'd so lustily requested.  Her
soft playful encouragement had me stiffening further.  When she returned
from the dresser, she lowered her head and took my cock into her mouth. 
Last night's foreplay had left me overly eager, but somehow I didn't
immediately explode into her mouth.  At that moment, I was so thankful for
the training I'd received.  Joy's lips encircled me and her long curly hair
draped about me.  She sucked and slurped on me until I was sure I could
withstand no more, but still I refrained.  She knelt and worked me with her
hand and mouth.  It felt as though she were intent on making me cum but I
wanted to be inside her badly so I held back.
   She removed her mouth to look at me puzzled, "You are still eager, yes?
My old body hasn't put you off?"
   "Yes I'm eager and willing.  So very willing.  Please, don't belittle
your beauty.  Your body is wonderful; you're truly lovely, Joy.  I can't
believe this is happening."
   "Baise-moi Paul!" she pleaded as she pulled me toward herself in a swift
motion as she rolled onto her back and continued her request, "Please, fuck
me with that beautiful thick cock."
   Rather than accede to her, I assumed a position between her legs. 
Inhaling deeply at her tulips that I'd smelled last night.  Her aroma
enhanced my desire to taste her and her encouragement drove me forward. 
The memory of my dream about her returned as my tongue delved between her
engorged lips.
   "Oh God!  Mon Dieu!  Oui!  Ooo yum, so - oh yes," her gasps of mixed
English and French delighted my ears.  "Lèche moi - oh - yes - so nice -
lick me there."
   Soon she was writhing beneath me as my licking and sucking of her lips
and clit increased.  Her clit was small but swollen hard and the taste of
her was amazing.  I could have continued for an hour, but Joy wasn't having
it.  After a second orgasm wracked her body, she was begging me to finish
her properly.
   "I must have it inside me, Paul.  Please don't torture this old woman
anymore."
   "You're not old, Joy," I reminded her as I positioned myself between her
legs.  My cock head was oozing precum and I slid it across her moistened
slit to more pleas of 'yes' and 'do it'.  "I'll go slowly," I said as I met
resistance.
   It was the damnedest thing.  She was wet, I was extremely hard and
slickened, but her tightness held me at bay.  I wiggled the bulb of my
penis along her slit with the support of my hand, but it wouldn't slip
inside her.  I parted her flushed lips with my fingers and pressed into her
just a bit and withdrew.  Repeating this several more attempts had me just
a bit deeper.
   "You're so big, just press inside, it'll go.  It's been such a long
time."
   I pushed a bit harder and the tip slipped inside her, suddenly the
resistance diminished and I was engulfed by her tight vaginal muscles.  I
could feel her gripping me with them and her hands pressing against my
buttocks forced me into her more deeply.  When I was fully inside her eyes
closed in ecstasy.  I bent my head to suck her right nipple into my mouth
and she began undulating beneath me.  Soon my hips could remain still no
longer and I withdrew slightly to mirror her motions.  Looking down I saw
us joined together and instantly a warm wave rushed over my whole body. 
She was no longer the unattainable forbidden professor, she was my
beautiful lover.
   Her eyes opened to watch me as I continued to increase the length of my
strokes.  Occasionally, she would close them as I bottomed out inside her,
only to resume gazing upon me.  I often found that puzzled, flirtatious
look upon her face as we continued.  Her tension built until I knew she was
going to cum and I began thrusting hard against her.  Our pubic mounds
pressing together forcefully on each entry, I watched the first wave roll
through her.  Her panting and continuous stream of guttural expressions of
passion drove me to complete us.  I waited and watched for the cues as I
wanted this to be a wonderful and memorable experience.
   Her chest and neck were flushing so prominently that her alabaster skin
appeared almost sun-burnt.  Her breathing was jagged and her eyes tightly
shut.  That familiar tightness in my balls was unmistakable and I was
nearing my own limits.
   "Joy, I'm -"
   "Yes, cum inside me.  Donne-moi ton foutre!"
   In a blinding flash, I gave her my cum as she'd commanded.  My mouth
suckled at her teat as I released the first volley into her.  She gasped as
I latched onto her and moaned as I continued to plunge into her.  The moans
only drove my desire to have her orgasm again and I pounded against her
after I'd finished cumming.  I could tell she wasn't expecting it as her
moans became a steady stream of 'oui', 'yes', 'oui'...
   In the end, she shouted, "Oh fuck!  Ooooo, God!"
   And then she clamped her legs around my back so I could no longer move.
The sudden stoppage made me cum a little more and I shuddered atop her.
   "Oh, Joy!  Fuck - that was wonderful."
   "You were amazing - that was unreal - I nearly lost consciousness," she
praised me.
   When she finally unclenched her legs, I rolled onto the bed beside her
and we continued to caress one another lovingly.  I don't know who went to
sleep first, but I awoke before her.  I slipped out of the bed to use her
hall water closet and then went to the kitchen to see if I could prepare
some kind of a meal.  Her refrigerator was nearly bare and all I could come
up with were a few snacks from the cupboard.  My concern for her health was
increasing a little and I wondered if she was eating properly.
   When I returned to her room, I found her sitting up.  I guess she'd
heard me get up.  We ate a few snacks I'd been able to find and just sat
there looking at one another.  I had given up on her a year ago, then I'd
thought there was a chance when I'd run into her but that hadn't seemed to
be happening.  Then at the party last night, everything changed and now,
it'd come to pass.  I'd sort of had a date with her and come to her home.
The sexual attraction was strong, but I felt like maybe all of these
coincidences were fate like in that book.
   We talked some, but it turned out that we'd spent most of the day
fucking like two teens who'd just discovered sex.  By the end of the day,
we'd had sex in every position I could think of trying and a couple that
Joy had come up with that I hadn't ever tried.  One was reverse woman on
top and the other was sitting facing together open legged on the bed.
   When evening rolled around, it seemed things were winding down.  Joy had
put on her clothes in preparation to see me out.  Tomorrow was graduation,
and I needed to go back to the dorm to get my cap and gown.  As she sat on
the bed watching me dress, she kept shaking her head.  I could see there
was doubt in her mind about what we'd been doing, but I didn't want it to
end.
   Then she hit me with two lines that nearly shattered my hopes when she
said, "Well, this has been the most wonderful day.  I can't thank you
enough."
   It felt like I was being dismissed and I didn't want that, so I almost
desperately asked, "Can't I see you again tomorrow after graduation?"
   "I don't know if we should, Paul.  You'll be graduating and moving on
with your life."
   "You don't enjoy my company?"
   "I do, but you're so young -"
   This rejection due to youth had been my biggest fear, "Couldn't we give
it a chance?  We've just spent yesterday's wonderful evening and this
glorious day together."
   "Today was the best sex I have ever had in my nearly fifty years of
living.  Every time was better than any I have ever experienced before."
   "So we're sexually compatible, surely it's worth seeing if we are
emotionally?"
   "It feels like I'd be robbing the -"
   I cut her off, nearly in tears, "Please don't say cradle.  I'm nearly
twenty-three."
   "Sorry, what I mean is I would be taking a handsome young man away from
a woman nearer his age."
   "I haven't dated anyone since high school and I really don't see you as
old."
   "Oh mon Dieu.  You have to get out there and see.  Experience the world.
I know there's a woman out there for you that - that isn't - barren."
   "I don't care about that," I said defensively.  "Please give us a
chance. If it isn't working, I'll move on, but I'd like to try.  Let's get
to know more about each other and then decide."
   "You're a very persistent suitor.
   "I had an excellent teacher," I said admiringly.
   "Flattery will open many doors."
   "I only care about the one to your heart.  Don't lock me out before I
have a chance and don't write this off as just a sexual encounter."
   There was true shock in her eyes when I said it.  Perhaps I'd been too
blunt.  I didn't know what else to do, nothing else was working.  Her
facial expression then softened as she looked into my eyes.
   "You've meant every kind thing you've said today, haven't you?"
   "Did you think I just wanted to bed my French professor?"
   "I feel a little ashamed.  That thought definitely crossed my mind. 
Maybe I mistrust everyone now."
   "I'm sorry, I would never hurt you.  Not today or any other.  You don't
have to make a decision right now.  Just think about it.  I'd like to see
if there's more to it.  Come find me after graduation tomorrow.  I'll be
looking for you."
   She walked with me to the door and took my hand before I opened it.  In
that instant, I thought there might be a chance.  The drawing I'd given her
was there on the table and she looked over at it for several moments.
   "I will be there," she said.
   "If you aren't, I will understand and won't bother you further but I'm
desperately hoping with all my heart that you will be."
   We kissed a long deep kiss and then I departed.  It was a short walk
back to my truck in the late spring sunset.  My heart rose at the
possibility that she would be there.  Aside from her, only John and Luke
and their wives, Cam and Anh would be attending.  Emma could not be there
because there was so much for her to deal with as she took over nearly all
of the responsibilities at the farm and Mom and Pops were down in South
Carolina building a house on their small farm.  I was glad my brothers
would have time to drive up and be there for the weekend before driving
back to San Francisco, but now that this relationship might be developing,
I longed for Emma to be there.  I wanted to make her proud of me and see
that maybe I'd found someone and kept my promise to her.
   At my graduation ceremony, I couldn't wait for it to be over.  I felt in
my soul that Joy would be there somewhere in the crowd.  I needed it to be
over so I could find her.  If she slipped away again, my heart might break
but if she were there and I see her again - well, I knew I'd be able to
convince her eventually.
   I'd met up with my brothers and their wives before the ceremony.  They'd
told me where they would be.  As I walked across stage and they announced I
was graduating with honors, I heard both of them yell out 'Way to go Paul'
and then I spotted them in the stands.  They weren't supposed to, but I
didn't care, it was nice to have their support.
   When it finally was over, I found them and hung around for a long time
hoping that Joy would appear.  I chatted with John, Luke, Cam and Anh for
thirty minutes in the hot sun.
   Finally, I gave up and told them why I'd been stalling, "Well, I'd hoped
to introduce you to someone I met, but it looks like she's not coming."
   John was the one to ask first, "Was this someone important?"
   "Well, I'd hoped she would eventually be my wife."
   Luke said, "Well then we should wait a while longer.  Did we ever tell
you the story of meeting our wives?"
   I'd wondered how it happened and I'd imagined any number of perverse
environments.  Everyone had heard the stories about brothels over there,
but I told them they hadn't and I wanted to know.  They kind of took turns
telling me the whole thing.  John was definitely the more fractious of the
two, but Luke had patience and that was what'd turned out to be the key. 
They'd stood outside their parents place in the rain for nearly a day when
their father had forbidden them from seeing them.  Eventually he'd come out
to tell them to leave, but they'd spoken to him in fluent Vietnamese and
somehow convinced him that these two sets of twins had been born to be
together.  By the end of the evening, their father had invited them for
dinner and given them his blessing to marry.  They'd moved them back to the
states when they got out and gotten the mother and father out eventually.
They had five kids between them all of whom were staying with their
grandparents right now.
   At the end of their story, Luke said, "So you must have patience for
that which you desire.  It's not tilting at windmills if you're right."
   I got the reference, but hadn't read the story, so I asked, "So we
should wait -"
   "Aha, there you are, Paul!  I've been looking everywhere.  Mon Dieu, I
thought to never find him," she said to everyone.
   "This is my - um - Joy," I said choking back a tear.  "I thought maybe
you weren't coming," I said hugging her tightly and trying to regain my
composure.
   It hadn't been necessary at all, they both had tears in their eyes and
said the words at the same time, "True love."
   When I released her, I redid the introductions and properly named each
person.  The six of us went to have dinner at an elegant restaurant that
they'd made reservations.  They took us in their VW van.  I hadn't really
known, but they were doing quite well with a business they ran importing
and exporting.  Their father-in-law was evidently well connected and got
them some great deals.  It was a wonderful evening and I wished I'd gotten
to know them better.  I almost brought up the rift between them and my
parents, but decided not to spoil the evening.  When we were nearly done
eating they offered to drop us where ever we liked.  Joy had evidently
walked to the event, so she'd wanted a ride home.  I told them I would need
to clear out my dorm room by tomorrow, but was still looking for a place.
   At that moment Joy had spoken up, "You will stay with me in my spare
room until you find a place."
   It was like a shot out of nowhere and I was nearly floored by the offer,
which I accepted.  When the bill came and the ladies left to use the
restroom, John and Luke seemed to think that it was a sign and I should
follow it.  They'd always followed their hearts and any signs that came
along the way.  I couldn't tell if it was a sign, but it was certainly what
I'd wanted.  That's when they gave me my graduation gift.
   "We didn't want to give this to you with them here," John said handing
me a check.
   "Thanks, so much, I don't know if I should accept this."
   "Knock that off.  I know our father wouldn't approve, but we're doing
well," Luke offered.
   "Yeah, but five thousand?"
   "Look starting out in life is tough.  We are doing great really; take
the money, Paul," John said.
   "Well, thanks again.  I'll try to make it count."
   When the women returned we all piled back in the VW van and drove to
Joy's house.  They were invited in, but needed to get back, so we hugged,
said our good-byes and made promises to visit more.  Joy and I walked to
the door.  She'd left the porch light on and she opened it without issue.
Inside the hall light was already on too.
   When the door was closed, she turned to me and said, "I haven't made up
the bed in the guest room, I hope you don't mind sleeping with me tonight."
   "Joy, I can't tell you how glad I am you came today," I said grabbing
her tightly.
   "You made some convincing arguments and I know that you are wise beyond
your years."
   "No one has ever accused me of that," I replied.
   "You made me so happy yesterday, I'd be an old fool not to see where
this adventure may go."
   "Jeez Joy, you aren't old."
   "And you aren't a child.  I regret those words very much.  I imagine
hearing them is as bad as hearing old is for me."
   "It seems that you are as empathetic as I am."
   "We have much to discover about one another, but I am already softening
to you," she said as she engaged me in a deep kiss.
   Somehow we wound up in her bed again eagerly performing the sixty-nine,
well she called it soixante-neuf, but it was invigorating nonetheless. 
She'd trimmed or perhaps use hair remover on the area around her lips and
she was completely smooth.  The soft hairs on her mons tickled my chin as I
lapped at her.  We were sucking and tonguing each other furiously when I
found myself staring into her bum.  An odd thought came to mind and I
didn't act on it right then, but I wondered what it'd be like if I licked
her there.  My nose was already pressing against it occasionally as my
tongue dove deep inside her.
   "Oh, I must have you inside me again, Paul," she said after I made her
cum hard on my tongue.
   "Okay, which way?"
   "What is your favorite?  It'll be my graduation gift to you."
   "Hum, I like so many of the ways we did it yesterday.  What way makes
you orgasm the hardest?"
   "With you, I orgasm from your entry."
   "No, really, tell me.  I like pleasing you."
   "I like it when I'm on top and you suckle my breasts.  It's so cute,
like a baby.  Sorry, it just -"
   "No, that's okay, I like that too and I'll try to be cute while I nurse
on you, if you like."
   "You're silly; I've loved everything we've done and I'm open to more
experiences."
   Sex that evening was soft and sweet as she rode me lovingly with me
attached to her teat like a baby.  There was a gentle giving quality behind
her strong sexual drive, which made me feel safe and loved.  Her openness
gave me comfort too, I didn't want to hide my desires from her but I also
didn't want to scare her away by throwing them all at her at once.
   The next day I moved all my stuff from the dorm into her spare room.  I
had to be to work on Monday to begin my job for real.  It was all happening
so fast that I felt a little out of control.  She insisted I stay in her
room for one more night before switching into the guest room.  It wasn't
rejection, she simply wanted to make sure that it wasn't just sex that made
us work.
   When work began, it was very different than I'd expected.  My internship
had prepared me some, but the pace was much more hectic and everything that
came across my desk was top priority.  After a week of this, I'd considered
quitting but Joy consoled me and told me how it'd been for her when she
began at the university.  She assured me that I would fall into a rhythm
and I could stay in her guest room as long as I liked though, she was off
over the summer and she made me feel at home.
   After the first month of our relationship, I'd made the assessment that
we were perfect for each other.  We liked so many of the same things, she
supported me continuing with my art and she relaxed me when my job created
stress.  The biggest stress now was that they wanted me to start covering
accounts that required travel to the client's offices.  One of our biggest
clients was headquartered in Boston and they were facing an audit.  I'd
have a senior accounting specialist with me on my first few trips, but they
wanted to promote her into a managerial position since she had gone back
for a masters.
   The trips would test our relationship.  There was tension over the fact
that my coworker was female.  Joy had become very protective of me probably
due to the experience with her husband.  But too, she was still having
difficulty getting over the age difference.  It worried her so, that it
caused a small argument.  Maybe more of a lovers spat over the phone.  She
was at home alone while I was off 'gallivanting around' Boston.  I flew
home that weekend to try and put the matter to rest once and for all.  It
was a brief bump in the road to my point of view, but she was slow to see
my devotion to her.
   At some point I decided she needed to see herself through my eyes and
the only way I could have that happen was to let her see some of my other
drawings of her.  It was time to start sharing my most personal thoughts
and feelings laid bare on paper.  I started the conversation by getting her
to think back to when she first felt something for me.
   "Hey, tell me something."
   "Anything."
   "When did you realize you felt something for me?"
   "I'm ashamed to admit it."
   "Well, I'll tell you that I realized it the day I drew you in humanities
class last spring.  I know you have the drawing, it wasn't very good, but
it was how I saw you that day, bathed in white sunlight.  After the event,
I'd thought maybe it was what you'd said that day Spring Fever and I tried
to forget about it.  I thought maybe it was a crush, but I kept having
those feelings for the remainder of the semester.  I had to go home away
from you to get away from them.  I knew you were so unattainable and out of
my league."
   "The last part is pure nonsense, you're a fine gentle man.  Any woman
would be lucky to meet someone so caring and thoughtful.  You need to stop
doubting your drawing ability, you know that I absolutely adore your
drawing of me.  It captured me in a way that made me beautiful to myself."
   "So, the same day?"
   "No, that day wasn't when it happened for me; many young men fall for
their female professors.  I loved the picture, but I was trying to maintain
a proper distance even as my marriage was falling apart."
   "But you did follow me onto the quad and you accepted the sketch."
   "Yes, that was a naughty flirtation," she admitted.  "I wasn't feeling
very beautiful, because I'd so recently discovered that Roger was cheating
on me.  I really liked the feeling that a nice young artist found me
attractive."
   "But it wasn't the sketch?"
   "Non, what made me think I was truly feeling something was the day you
helped me home.  My divorce was coming to completion and I was feeling old
and unattractive.  I saw how you still looked at me, but I just couldn't
bring myself to ask if you were interested in this fragile old lady."
   "I've never seen you as old or fragile, but I did notice your
sensitivity to my careless words.  Then I'd expected to see you at the
chancellor's party, but you showed up relatively late.  I almost didn't
think you were going to come.  Were you still conflicted?"
   "I wasn't sure if I should attend, because I'd seen the invitation list
and I was fairly certain you'd be there.  I debated going until I made
myself late.  I simply didn't know if I'd have the restraint to resist you
that evening.  And then you were there like a lost puppy without a date. 
I'd wanted to take you home with me before I had a single drink.  Clearly,
I had no will power, but then you were such a gentleman.  You didn't take
advantage of an old drunken divorcée."
   "Now, it is you that needs to stop deprecating yourself.  What I saw was
a beautiful woman that was reaching out to me in a moment of weakness.  I
couldn't have taken advantage of something so pure."
   "Paul, I had impure thoughts even that day you offered me the sketch. 
You can't keep holding me on a pedestal."
   "Well, I don't think I am.  Wait here a moment, I want to show you
something," I said getting up from the bed.
   I went to the guest room and dug through my belongings.  When I found my
previous sketch pad, I headed back into the bedroom while I flipped through
the pages to find the sketch.
   "I drew this from memory."
   She drew in a deep breath, "Oh God, this one puts the other to shame."
Tears welled in her eyes, "What have I done?  You are so young and pure of
heart.  I can't do this to you."
   "Even though I knew I could never be with you when I drew it, I loved
you from afar, Joy."
   She stared at the drawing and continued to shake her head.  Something
inside her was preventing her from seeing the adoration behind the sketch.
The soft lines and gentle curves of every detail of her.
   "Joy, I want to scream, I love you from rooftops or mounted on horseback
as I ride through each town.  I want - NO, I need to be with you, for now
and forever.  Please don't let our age sway your judgment."
   "Why me, Paul?"
   "Believe me Joy, I don't think we get to decide who we fall in love
with. I love you and want you to marry me," I said taking a knee to offer
her the ring.
   She took the open box and stared at the small diamond.  Her gaze seemed
distant for a long time, I could see the inner turmoil as she tried to make
the leap.  There was resoluteness when she finally answered.
   "Yes, I will marry you," she said at last.  "C'est totalement fou, mai
je croi que tu m'aim."
   "It's not crazy and I do love you, without condition."
   After she put the ring upon her finger, we couldn't wait to have one
another.  The love we both knew was real couldn't be kept apart by mere
number on a calendar.  It wasn't merely the kind of love that blinded us to
the reality of life, it was the kind that changed the fabric upon which we
would draw.
   Around the beginning of July, I was going to take a final trip out for
the Boston job and I decided it was time to take Joy with me.  Her at home
alone over the summer had been part of the problem, but our decision to
marry in December meant I needed to break the news to my family.
   She and I stayed with her mom while I finished up the business audit
preparations.  Her mom was frail and a little senile.  Her English was
heavily accented and she often spoke to Joie in French.  I overheard her
say she wasn't thrilled with the age difference, but she was accepting of
me and was happy for Joie.  She didn't think she would be able to make it
to our wedding, but she wished us well.
   When the weekend came, we rented a car and drove to the farm to
introduce Joy and tell them of our plans to marry.  We'd thought this would
be the perfect time as it would be the dead of winter and they would have
no trouble attending.  Joie had insisted that we'd pay the airfare for
anyone that wanted to come.  Unknowingly, I'd committed a huge error in
thinking they would approve.  Although they were pleasant to her and myself
during our brief day visit, Pops informed me as I was leaving that they
would not be coming to the wedding.
   As we were about to pull away to head to Burlington to fly back, Emma
dashed out to the car to talk to me, "I'm going to be there for you, Paul."
   "Thanks, Emma.  I don't really understand what the problem is."
   "I overheard them fussing in their room after lunch.  They think it's
disgraceful you're marrying someone Mama's age."
   "She's not, Mama is nearly sixty."
   "I know," she said and looked over at Joie.  "Please forgive them, they
may yet come around.  I know you're just a little older than me."
   "You are a dear and I see where Paul gets his laudatory nature.  I've no
shame of my age, I'll be fifty in November.  Honestly, I hold no grudge
against them, it took a long time for Paul to convince me that I was the
one for him," Joie replied.
   "The only thing I care about is that you take good care of my sweet baby
- brother Paul," she said with tears streaming down her cheeks.
   "I assure you he means the world to me."
   I felt it too, it was inexplicable, but Joie's and my tears begin to
flow as well.  Emma was giving me her blessing, love and support.  What
we'd had that summer had led to this and she was happy and sad in the same
instant.
   Her voice full of that melancholy, Emma replied, "Me too.  I promise you
both that I will be there.  Maybe I can change their minds, but they can be
very stubborn."
   We hugged through the window and she waved us good-bye.  We drove from
the farm to Burlington and got on our late flight home.  We made
preparations and arrangements over the months that passed.  We would marry
in a small chapel near campus.  There would be a very small group of
people, most of them my family.
   In December after the holiday break, Emma flew up to stay with us in the
guest room.  She arrived with bad news in the form of a letter from Mama.
Handing the small card, she said, "Don't think she under took this
lightly."
   Note from Mama: Dear Paul, I wish I had better news.  Emma convinced me
I need to write you and explain why we won't be at the wedding.  Papa is a
stubborn old fool sometimes.  I know that you love her, she's a very
beautiful, if older, woman.  Papa wants you to call it off or he's
threatening to disown you.  I can't talk him down from this and can't leave
him after all these years.  Please know that I love you regardless of what
you choose to do.
   It was a stunning blow but Emma helped soothe some of the pain.  She was
a huge help with all of the final arrangements and she and Joy got to be
more acquainted.  She hadn't written or sent any care packages after our
trip to visit, and I wasn't sure if she were okay with all this as she said
she was.  There still didn't seem to be a man in her life and I wished she
could have a love like the one I had or maybe still harbored.
   When the big day came it was nice but cold weather.  The ceremony was a
simple affair in the presence of a justice of the peace.  We had Emma, John
& Anh, Paul & Cam and two friends of Joie as our witnesses.  The justice
must have been a French student at some point, because during the ceremony,
he'd pronounced her name correctly each time.  It was something I should
have known, but didn't until I heard the words.
   Paul James Rocinante, do you take this woman, Joie Shueller Soliel, to
be your lawful wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for
better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until
death do you part?
   "I do."
   And do you, Joie Shueller Soliel, take this man, Paul James Rocinante,
to be your lawful wedded husband to have and to hold, from this day
forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in
health, until death do you part?
   "I do."
   "You may kiss the bride."
   I did kiss her and from that day forward, I called her Joie, her true
name.  I felt like Joy was for people that didn't know her and probably
couldn't appreciate how beautiful that name was to me.  Her joie de vivre,
literally 'joy of life', was contagious.  Everywhere we went, everything we
did, people mentioned it in some fashion within just a few minutes of
talking to her.
   For our honeymoon, we traveled the short fifty miles to a nearby ski
lodge at the Snoqualmie Pass.  It was near the Lodge Lake trail head I'd
visited on several school breaks to hike and draw.  When I'd shown Joie
some of the drawings, I'd discovered that she knew about the place and
loved it too.  I promised her that for our fifth anniversary we'd go to
Greece and she informed me very emphatically that we could do that, but
we'd go there this summer too.
   Sometime in April, I notice that Joie's hair was looking different.  The
curls were all but gone and it looked much more youthful and vigorous.  I
wondered if she knew what that was doing to me and one evening as we
cuddled after sex I decided to get to the bottom of the mystery.
   "Have you been doing something different with your hair," I asked
stroking through it with my fingers.
   "I'm on a new regiment and I'm not curling it anymore."
   "Is there a reason for the change?"
   "You've shown me your drawings.  I've seen how you adored her, Paul.  I
once had an attraction to my brother."
   This one secret I'd thought I'd kept.  I shouldn't have, but it was a
little embarrassing still.  Rather than play dumb and pretend I didn't know
what she was talking about, I decided to see how much she knew.
   "How far did it -" I started to ask.
   She smiled at me and countered, "Come on and play fair.  You tell me
your story and I'll tell you mine."
   "Okay, I will.  Did your ex-husband know?"
   "No, I never told him.  Its shameful outcome may be the source of my
infertility."
   We spent the rest of the day telling parts of our past to one another.
It was cathartic in a lot of ways and it helped me move on from feelings I
may have harbored for Emma.  Joie had been involved with her brother for a
longer time, but it'd ended when he got married and she claimed she hadn't
loved him as strongly as I had Emma.  I wasn't sure how she could know
that, but I loved her for sharing that with me.  We were two people that
were meant to be together, it was simple fate.
   A few months later, I received a big promotion at work.  It was a good
move, but I wasn't enjoying the work like I thought I would.  The time
demands were even higher for the new position and required more travel. 
Joie could see how unhappy I was and suggested I look into pursuing my Art
more or perhaps venture out into something that allowed me to devote some
time to it.  Unfortunately, we had to cancel our trip to Greece, but I
promised Joie, I'd make it up to her.
   The straw that broke the horse's back was a holiday office party to
which our spouses were invited.  It wasn't the party, it was the ribbing
and outright discrimination that I received afterword.  Joie, had worn a
lovely dancing gown and braided her hair up into a bun.  I had loved the
distinguished but sexy look it gave her.  She was charming and intelligent
in every interaction at the party and she gotten lots of admiring glances.
The love making that followed the party was unbelievable.  She was like a
woman in heat beneath me and she'd clawed my back a bit during our passion.
   The next day in the office, I'd had a small mark on my neck that my
manager noticed.  His wise crack had put me off entirely and he'd made it
in front of a couple of co-workers.  I can't remember the exact wording
because I got so angry I couldn't see straight, but it was something to the
effect of 'The old gal got the better of you, huh?' From that point forward
there were constant gossip about my summer-winter relationship with that
'old French whore'.
   Within a month, I'd taken all the steps to follow a new path.  My art
would no longer suffer and I would be the master of my own destiny.  It'd
all been possible because of help from Joie, the money I'd saved and the
five thousand from my brothers.  I opened a small art gallery, where I
would deal art and I could display some of my own work.
   It was a huge change in my life and while it was exciting in one regard,
there was a lot of stress that came with the change.  I slept little and
worried often as I paced the neighborhood along the bay.  After about two
weeks without a sale or even a serious customer, I began to become
depressed and doubt the venture would have any success.  My art had moved
into the soft pastels and I'd begun drawing some dark scenes that weren't
the things I wanted.
   Joie suggested we take some days to go back to the Lodge Lake trail head
to capture some of the foliage.  I sketched numerous scenes that I would
later transfer to pastels.  Within another week, I had several large
pastels hanging in the windows and traffic picked up.  I still wasn't
sleeping well, because I'd only made a few sales of other people's work.
   One morning when I awoke, I was suckling at Joie's teat like a baby. 
I'd latched on fully and when my eyes fluttered open, I saw her gazing down
at me.  My face must have turned bright red because when I attempted to
pull away she pulled me back into her breast, so that my lips were just
touching the stiff nipple.
   "Please don't stop.  That was so comforting."
   I wasn't sure how to react.  It was something I'd done one of the few
times Emma had allowed me to sleep with her.  It seemed very natural to me,
but I carried some shame about that mommy-play we'd done.  It excited me,
but there was still some taboo attached to it for me.
   Seeming to sense the question in my eyes, she asked, "Does baby want
mommy's titty?"
   I don't know if I had an erection before, but the blood coursing through
me pounded in my ears and prevented me from hearing my own answer of,
"Yesss."
   My eyes flashed wide and longingly as I latched back onto her.  She held
me gently but soon found the huge erection that was poking her beneath the
sheet.  Small adjustments in our positions allowed us to couple in this odd
sidelong encounter.  When I was reaching the point of no return I detached
from her breast and asked, "Mother may I cum."
   I guess they didn't have the game in France or at least not the same
game, but her reply was simple and exciting, "Yes, child come inside
mommy." It was a fait accompli.  My strokes sharpened and Joie's orgasm had
her alternating between, "Keep going - don't stop" and "oh god - no more."
   As we rested in our post climatic glow, I needed to know that she was
alright with this type of play, so I asked, "Was that alright?  If you
don't like that, we don't."
   "My sweet young man.  It was lovely.  Don't be ashamed of such play."
   "You liked it then?"
   "You can have mommy whenever you like."
   One day in June, I came home early from the studio.  I'd sold one of my
own pieces for a record amount and had closed up early.  That thought
vanished, when I found Joie on the bed crying.  Initially, there was no
consoling her.  I couldn't even get what'd happened for the longest time.
There was nothing to do but hold her and tell her how much I loved her.
   I would have done anything within my power to return to her the
happiness that she brought me.  Seeing her saddened like this tore at my
heart and made me feel helpless.  I ran my fingers through her long
straight hair and down her back until the sobs became jagged sighs from
being cried out.  I waited for her to speak and just prepared myself to
help however I could whenever she was able to tell me.
   Finally, she spoke, "I - I lost - it - I'm so - so sorry." She stroked
my cheek and continued as she shook her head sadly, "I - lost - our -
baby."
   I was floored.  I didn't think that was even possible.  A baby?  Us?  I
wanted her to have a child if that's what she wanted, but it wasn't
necessary to make our relationship work.  It was already working and she'd
told me she was barren.  She could see the confusion in my face and put her
hands on either side of it.
   "I'm sorry Paul, I should have told you what I was doing, but I wanted
to surprise you.  And now it's gone.  It's gone and I've failed you." She
continued sobbing and pleading with God, "Why God, why am I to be punished?
I've been good to two men that I loved.  Why shouldn't this lovely man have
a child?"
   "Joie, honey.  Please, don't blame yourself or God.  I love you!  You
told me you couldn't have children and I am okay with that."
   "I took hormones to make me ovulate and it worked, but I'm messed up
inside.  The doctor said it was a long shot, but I wanted to believe it
would happen for you.  It never happened to me before but it happened for
you.  When I missed my time of the month, I just got my hopes up that I
could be a mommy with you," she began bawling again.
   "Please don't cry or be sorry.  I wish you could have children, but not
for me, for you.  I'm perfectly happy with just the two of us, okay?  I
don't want you obsessing about producing me an heir or endangering your
health for me.  I could never live with myself if I lost you because of
that."
   She was silent for a long time and she calmed a great deal.  Maybe my
words had made sense to her, but the sadness was deep.
   When she finally spoke again there was some small joy there, "I love you
so much, Paul.  I wish I'd met you ten years ago."
   "I would have been fourteen," I teased her to try and lighten the mood
just a bit.
   "Oh, my, that would have been scandalous, I take it back.  I've never
had any interest in younger men until I met you honestly."
   She knew I couldn't quite mirror her statements.  I'd always been drawn
to the older women, even in high school.
   "I'm glad you accepted me with all of my youthful faults."
   We fell asleep in one another's arms and I dreamt.  Her innocent words
had delivered me back to the 'Mother may I' games I'd played with Emma, but
in the dream, I was playing with Joie.
   After the business was about a year old, it was returning a six figure
annual profit.  So we hired an excellent young art major graduate to manage
the studio.  Shortly after joining, she'd signed several new artists that
were creating some noise in the art scene to display several pieces. 
Suddenly our monthly gross was six figures with projections of a seven
figure annual.  Things couldn't be going better and Joie decided that we
should travel now.
   Our trip to Greece which had been canceled due to work was now a reality
due to our success.  We spent the entire month of August right on the beach
of one of the Greek isles and traveled around exploring.  Everything about
the trip was perfect; it was like a second honeymoon really.  Our room was
in a little villa that was right on a beautiful white sandy beach.  It'd
been one of Joie's lifelong desires to go there and she was like a youthful
explorer on some type of mission to discover as much as we could squeeze
into the time we had there.  In the evenings, we would come back and eat a
light dinner and then play in the gentle waves of the Aegean.
   The last several days of the trip, we finally took it easy and had a
vacation from our vacation.  We slept in and awoke to the soft sounds of
the sea and birds there.  There was soft unhurried sex each night and
loving.  Joie seemed so at ease with everything, it was what the thing we'd
both been needing.  Life was good and we enjoyed every moment we were
together.
   Shortly after we'd celebrated our fourth anniversary, we got a call from
an attorney in Boston.  Joie's mother had passed, we'd just seen her at
Christmas and she'd been doing fine.  So, the news left her in a slightly
depressed state.  Although classes were starting at the university, we
needed to go there and deal with the funeral and her estate.  Our art
studio was doing really well.  I'd been commissioned to do some nudes for
women that Joie had shown her portrait.  I'd sold those and several other
pieces for what I considered and extravagant amount of money.  So, I
suggested to Joie that she take a leave of absence or sabbatical, while we
dealt with this.  To my surprise, she put in her notice.
   When we arrived at the attorney's office we discovered that Joie's mom
had left her a fairly large inheritance.  I wasn't really certain how she'd
accumulated the wealth, but she left Joie her house, in an upscale part of
town, a large amount of stock and her old Lincoln which she almost never
drove.  The whole thing took a few months.  There were only a handful of
items in the house that Joie wanted shipped back to Seattle, the rest was
auctioned.  Joie, didn't know where much of it had come from and only
wanted to keep family items that would easily fit into our house.  We
finally got all the papers done and sold the estate by the end of May.
   After we finished, Joie suggested that we go and visit Emma.  When I
called ahead, to make sure it'd be okay, Emma was very excited to have us.
The folks had completely moved out and she was alone doing all of the work.
We hadn't communicated much over the past couple years.  There'd been a few
letters and we exchanged Christmas gifts but that had been the extent of
it.
   Emma convinced Joie to stay for a couple of weeks and she put us up in
her old room upstairs, since she'd moved down into the addition.  She'd had
the house revamped with air conditioning, so it wasn't hot like I'd
remembered that summer five years ago.  It was really a nice and relaxing
visit.  We swam in the lake (in our shorts) and simply enjoyed the slower
pace of the country side.  It was a real vacation, with no deadlines and no
pressure.  The two of them seemed to get along very well in spite of or
perhaps because of our history together.
   One day I was sent on some errands in town.  At the time I hadn't paid
much thought to it, but looking back it was probably a ploy, so that they
could talk.  When I arrived back, Joie informed me that we would be paying
off the rest of Emma's loan.  It felt odd and I didn't understand it; I was
really happy that they got along, but this wasn't anything I'd expected. 
I'd sent Emma some money after the art business took off to help with
implementing some of the ideas I'd given her to push into niche markets. 
But this was something different.
   On our last day there, Joie tried to give Emma the Lincoln.  Emma didn't
want it and Joie compromised, telling her, "Okay how about you give us a
ride to the airport and you keep it working for us until the next time we
visit?"
   "Okay, you've got a deal!"
   At the airport, we all exchanged hugs and kisses.  We said our good-byes
and invited one another to visit.
   On the flight back to Seattle, Joie told me, "She's a very nice lady,
your sister."
   "I'm so glad you get along.  I wish all of our family got along as well
as you two do."
   "Families are a funny thing.  There's always room for more love in the
world."
   After arriving home, things got back to normal for a while, but Joie got
a travel bug and we started out hitting all of the places I'd ever imagined
going and a couple I hadn't.  We went to Paris to see where she'd been born
and then the Alps for another ski experience.  When we came home we went
back to the lodge and had a real reenactment of our honeymoon.  We took
consecutive trips to Australia, China and Russia.  At the end of these I
could see there was something going on with Joie and I brought it up one
evening after a long session of love making.
   "Joie, is everything okay; you seem tired lately?"
   "Paul - sweetie - I'm dying."
   "What?!"
   "I'm sorry, I've kept this from you.  I found out right before mom
died."
   "No!  You can't!  This isn't what's supposed to happen," I said grabbing
and hugging her tightly.
   The tears came like water from a faucet.  The universe was playing
another trick on us, but this one wasn't nice like the last time.  This
time it set wheels into motion to take us apart and it wasn't what was
supposed to happen.  We were meant to be together, it'd been our destiny.
   "There's nothing that can be done.  The female issues I had have
returned and now it's in my blood."
   "But I love you.  I love you so much."
   "I love you too - I love you with all my heart.  I've delayed telling
you until the time was getting short.  I didn't want you to suffer this
whole time.  I wanted to celebrate our life together and we still have a
little time before I become too ill."
   It was too much.  I held her and cried.  Much of it was self-pity, but
we'd had such a short time together.  We lay in bed the rest of that day
taking turns crying and consoling one another.
   The next morning we decided that we would take our last trip together to
our favorite place we'd visited, Greece.  I got us tickets and we were on
the next flight with almost no luggage.  We stayed in the same villa and
the owners remembered us from our first visit.  They loved Joie and treated
her like royalty for the entire stay.  We woke as we liked sunned and swam
in the Aegean each day.  The fresh seafood and authentic local cooking were
just the thing for her.
   The morning of our fifth day, I could hear water lapping at the shore
outside.  Joie was snuggled into my chest.  We'd been enjoying each other
so much on this trip.  Everything was relaxed and unrushed.  She pulled me
from the bed and we went together nude to the water to bathe in the
shallows.  We huddled together there basking in the sun for the longest
time.
   I was holding her, with the water lapping gently against us, when she
said, "When I go, I think I'd like my ashes, spread near Snoqualmie Pass;
you know the place?"
   "Yes, I know exactly.  Do we have to talk about that now?"
   "It's going to be soon," she said softly.
   "Do we need to leave?"
   "No, I think this will be a nice place to go."
   I could sense her strength going.  I don't know how she'd kept up the
pace or how she knew it was coming.  She started to tremble and I took her
into my arms and kissed her as the tears ran down my face onto hers and
into the salty water.
   She looked up at me and touched my face, "Please, don't stay alone; find
someone to share your love with Paul."
   That was the worst day of my life.  She passed in my arms laying in the
Aegean Sea.  There were no words that would adequately describe my loss.
   The aftermath was less complicated than I would have expected.  The
owners of the villa had been informed beforehand.  She'd left instructions
with her mother's lawyer to have all the legal paperwork sent to make sure
I would have no trouble with handling of the body.  She must have known she
wouldn't make it home.
   They shipped her home and I had her cremated.  My life was in a fog.  If
there was a God, I was currently not feeling it.  Joie, had left a letter
with the lawyer as well as her last will and testament.  She knew I'd sell
the house but wanted me to keep some mementos of our time together and
anything that might remind me of her.  I mindlessly packed items into a
storage container and had an auction for the rest.  I sold the studio to
Marcie, the young manager.  I didn't know if I'd ever produce another work,
but promised if I did, I would let her handle my sales.  I shipped the
container to Emma and sent her some extra money to keep it for me until I
was done with my trek.  I sent her a copy of the map I was following and
told her I'd write along the way.
   About a week after I sold the house, I finally went to retrieve the
ashes.  They'd held them for me as I finished all of these preparations.  I
gave Joie's car to charity and took a taxi to the airport.  What I'd
decided the day she left me there in Greece was that I wouldn't just
sprinkle her ashes at Lodge Lake near Snoqualmie Pass, but I would spread
them the entire length of the Pacific Crest Trail to that end point.
   Joie and I had discussed attempting it a couple of times, but she'd
always said she was too old.  I never bought that excuse and now that I
knew the real reason, I was determined to take her with me as I did it. 
No, it wasn't going to be an attempt at doing it, I was going to do it. 
And I would say my final good-byes to her at the end.
   I'd sent myself packages ahead along the way with supplies and an
eclectic collection of books.  They were all banned for one reason or
another, but I felt if I were to burn some books, for fuel or to get a fire
started, they would be ones to use.  I would read them as I traveled and
burn the used pages.
   When I arrived in Campo CA, I caught bus #894 to El Cajon and started my
hike.  I wasn't out to break any records or prove anything to anyone.  I'd
make this trek with my soulmate or die trying.  Adjusting to the dry
climate on the first part of the trip was the hardest part I encountered. I
left the trail to get water and resupplies where I could.  Some days I went
without food, but rarely without water.
   About a month into my hike of self-pity or hike of despair, as I was
calling it, I began to see Joie in my sleep.  She'd been gone for so long
and I longed to see her with all of my heart.  I dreamt about both trips to
Greece and by the middle of July, I had my metanoia, when the dreams
changed.
   I'd just gotten a care package from Emma at one of the same stations
along the trail that I'd shipped myself a package.  She'd sent me a book
and a note wishing me well and telling me to be careful.  That night I
dreamed the dream I'd had so long ago, but it happened in reverse.  It
started with Joie on our first trip to Greece and somewhere during that
last leisurely week she'd turned into Emma.  Then the dream repeated on
numerous nights.  One morning I awoke immobile with the mourning for my
wife mixed with longing for my sister.  There were several days that I was
stuck in this cycle of guilty love.
   Another hiker came upon my camp and brought me back from the edge.  I
hadn't eaten anything for a couple days and although I had water, I hadn't
taken any.  If he hadn't of come along when he had, I would probably have
died there.  The universe was telling me to move on and I took the nudge
I'd been given to hike every day.
   The last day of my travels, I awoke to rain.  It wasn't a downpour, but
the sound of it hitting the tent roused me from my slumber.  The ground was
softer here than it had been at previous sites.  I waited for it to lighten
up, but it never did, so eventually I motivated myself to get up and fix
some breakfast.  Rations were running pretty low, all I had left were
packages of oatmeal.  With the little burner, I had the water I'd collected
from the rain boiling in just a few minutes.  I ate my gruel sitting just
inside the tent, but it was just delaying the soaking I was about to get.
There had been days that I'd not walked due to rain, but they hadn't been
this close to the end.
   When I finished eating, I packed all my gear, loaded up my backpack and
got out on the trail.  I didn't pass a soul as I headed toward the finish.
Newcomers had stopped appearing sometime in September.  I'd see an
occasional group that was doing a day hike from their locale, but PCT
starts had dropped off.  I hiked my last steps on the trail around 2:00 PM.
That was when I came upon the Lodge Lake Trailhead end point that'd
inspired me to even want to make the trip.  Joy and I had been skiing near
there a couple times and we'd hiked on this part of the trail many times.
Now, seeing the sights brought memories of her flooding back into my mind.
   Tears ran down my face as I approached the Visitor Center and I could
feel people looking at me.  A nice couple that were having a late lunch
picnic invited me to have a sandwich with them.  I accepted that and the
ride back to Seattle that they offered me.  Sitting in the back of their
pickup truck with my backpack I could hardly believe it was over as they
dropped me off near the Post Office on 4th Avenue.  I thanked them for the
generosity and headed inside before they closed.
   Inside I dialed the combination to my PO box and pulled a small wad of
rubber band wrapped items that contained three pickup slips.  At the
service counter, they had a small bin of letters and two packages.  One I'd
sent to myself, the other appeared to be from Emma.  I knew what was inside
mine, but I wondered what Emma might have sent.  She'd sent a couple of
care packages to stops along my route, but I hadn't really expected
anything at the end.  I moved to a remote counter and opened her box. 
Inside I found a copy of 'Flowers in the Attic' by V.  C.  Andrews.  It was
a book I'd had on my list of banned books to read, but hadn't gotten for
some reason.  Opening the front cover, I found a note from Emma 'Come see
me, turn to page 100'.  Turning to that page I found an open ended ticket
and a crisp hundred dollar bill.  I probably had enough miles to have
gotten one for myself, but having her send me that made me smile.  There
were butterflies in my stomach as I thought about that summer so long ago.
   Taking the money she and I had sent, I headed to an old local motel with
a neon sign stating 'Vacancies'.  I went to the night window and got a room
for cash and had them turn on the phone for long distance calls and prepaid
for ten minutes.  I threw the back pack and much of the contents into their
dumpster and carried the package of clean clothes with me to the room. 
Inside the room, I stripped nude and placed all of the clothes I was
wearing into a garbage bag which I wrapped tightly.  I went to the shower
and washed.  There in the stall, I was watching the dirt swirl down the
drain and was transported back to the farm.  I would go home to Emma.  I
didn't know if things would be like they had before, but I needed to be
somewhere safe and I knew that would be the one place on earth I could find
it.  When I finished my shower, I called the airline and verified I could
be on the first flight tomorrow.  Then I made my call to Emma and told her
I'd arrive tomorrow evening.
   This trip to my old home was different for many reasons.  The biggest
difference from that trip home on the bus all those years ago was that I
was flying, in first class no less.  The other differences had to do with
that saying 'You can never go home again', at least that was how I quoted
it now.  Emma was there and we'd remained in contact and even visited one
another over the years.  She hadn't ostracized me for marrying Joie.  She'd
seemed happy for me.  I wished her life had been better, not that it was
over by any means.  I'd always thought that she would find the right guy to
settle down with and use some of the money she was making to find a way to
have some kids.
   That never happened but she had taken my original business plan and run
with it.  The farm was doing very well.  In the back of my mind I had this
vague idea.  It was crazy and I knew it, but I thought it might be worth
running it passed her.  I'd wait and see if things were lining up the right
way.  It could be the beginning of something truly fun.
   In the plane I had several drinks.  Having abstained for the last
sixteen weeks or so was compounded by the amount of weight I lost.  The
flight attendant should have stopped me at three, but they'd kept refilling
it and I'd kept drinking.  Lifetime top elite status must have shown up on
their passenger list.  I was literally passed out when the plane landed in
Burlington and awoke with a start when the plane touched down.
   Somehow I managed to get myself and my new bag outside into the bright
daylight, where my eyes suddenly felt like someone had rubbed sand in them.
I didn't have long to wait, but my head was pounding and when Emma pulled
up in her new farm truck, the sound from her horn had nearly split my head
open.  I put my bag in the back, she hadn't replaced Samson.  She hadn't
replaced anything that she loved.  Getting into the cab, I looked her up
and down.  I'd have sworn that she didn't look like she'd aged a day from
all those summers ago.
   "Jesus, Squirt, you smell like a distillery."
   "I love you too, Emma.  Could you speak a little more softly?"
   "What have you done to yourself?"
   "I've been discovering that I can't hold my alcohol anymore."
   "Let's get you home.  God you're so thin."
   "I'm okay, I just need some of your home cooking."
   She shook her head at me and pulled away from the pickup area.  Outside
the window I could see the verdant country side passing by and I realized
that the last time she'd driven me home, the windows had been down.  Now
she was driving a nice new truck and the air was on.  After so many days on
the trail, it felt almost surreal.  I must have dozed off at some point
because I awoke when she opened my door and assisted me from the truck.
   "I can't believe you came home drunk," she chastised me.  "Pops would
have beat you silly."
   "That's not what you thought at the lake," I quipped.  "Hey, there's all
my junk," I said as I spotted my container parked by the shed.
   "Come on, pick up your feet," she said gently.
   She continued to assist me as my legs were rubber beneath me and didn't
seem to be functioning correctly.  Trying to make it work, she wrapped my
arm about her so she could support me to the door.  It was working until we
reached the porch steps and I couldn't manage them.  A sweat broke out on
me and the sky seemed to spin as I'd lifted my leg for the first step. 
Then, in what seemed like a flash, I was laying on the porch with her atop
me with her elbow pressing into my tummy.
   "Brurp - uhg - you need to move, I'm going to lose this," I warned her
as I felt my stomach beginning to wretch.
   She got up, helped me to my side and held me as I lost the meal and
drinks from the flight.  The effluent didn't just go into the flower bed,
there was some on just about all of my new clothing.  When I finished, was
when the crying began.  Emma didn't berate me or give me any grief.  She
was gentle, as she helped me up again and got me inside.  She got me to the
back bedroom addition and into its attached bathroom.  Sitting in the tub,
the crying continued and I may have blacked out.
   The next thing I remembered I was under the hand held shower head.  I
was completely nude and Emma was washing me with a soft washcloth and
rinsing me off.  I faded in and out several times.  An angel seemed to keep
saying, What's happened to my sweet baby?  as her soft lips met mine.
   I awoke in a tub of warm water.  Emma had finished cleaning me and
pushed the long straggly hair from my face.  I looked up at her and saw her
return my gaze deeply, her eyes filled with concern.
   "I'm so sorry, honey," she whispered as she continued stroking my
forehead.  "I know losing her hurt," she said breaking down.  "I've been so
worried about you these last several months.  I thought you'd gone on that
hike to kill yourself," she cried lightly kissing my forehead as tears ran
down her face and onto mine.
   "No, no, I'm going to get through it.  Don't cry for me, Em."
   I'd only ever called Emma, Em, a few times and those few times had
gotten me a rebuke.  It'd been Bo's name for her all those years ago; she
hadn't let anyone else get away with it.  Tonight though, with me lying
naked in her tub and her crying over me, it gained me a gentle hug and soft
words.
   She repeated the words over and over again, "It'll be okay, dear, sweet
boy."
   I'd thought I'd gotten all of my self-pity out on the trail, but
evidently there was still some remaining.
   "Come on, let's get you dried off," she said attempting to help me up.
   "I'm sorry I've put you through all of this."
   "Don't be ridiculous."
   Standing in the tub, I was fully nude as she assisted me to the bathmat.
There she handed me a large terrycloth towel that smelled like home and
felt like heaven.  I could feel her eyes on me as I wrapped myself
awkwardly and she assisted me to the bed.  In my mind that summer six years
ago seemed like it had just been a week ago.  Emotions flooded forth like
the gates had been thrown open.  There was love in me.  Love I thought had
vanished long ago.  Had my love for her not faded one iota?  I'd believed I
loved Joie with all of my heart and was certain that she'd been my
soulmate. I felt confident it was true but wondered if maybe I'd
transferred what I'd felt for my sister or if somehow this other love for
Emma had been buried all this time.
   "Do you think you can love two people with all of your heart?" I asked
as she helped me sit on the bed.
   "Parents love their children."
   I shook my head which made the room spin and me lie down.  She was
beside me cradling my head in her hands and whispering sweet words to me.
When I awoke, I'd latched onto Emma's teat in the night.  I hadn't thought
it would be like this with all the time apart, but here we were sleeping
nude in her bed again.  The natural order of things in my universe seemed
to have forces that pulled me to her.
   When I released her nipple, she looked down at me and said, "That was
nice, why'd you stop?"
   "I didn't know if we were doing that, now."
   She stroked my forehead gently, "You can do anything you like with me. I
realized a while ago, that there was only one person in the world for me.
Sending you away was silly of me, but I was happy for you and the love you
found."
   I resumed suckling upon her.  It was the most comforting thing I'd done
in a long time.  After a while I released her and asked the question that
kept running around in my head.
   "When did you realize that?"
   "Oh, I had doubts the day I dropped you at the bus station, but I
thought I'd gotten past them until the day of your marriage -"
   "I'm sorry, I did love her and -"
   "Yes, I made you promise you would move on.  I wasn't jealous of her, I
was happy for you and sad for me.  You can have more than one feeling at a
time."
   "What was the realization?"
   "Well, her maiden name sounded familiar, so when I came home, I dug
through some of Mama's old papers and made a trip to Montreal to check some
records -"
   "What?"
   "Well, I found her mom, Geneviève, was Mama and Sarah's aunt.  So as it
turns out, you married your great aunt or maybe third cousin, I get them
confused."
   "I didn't know," I said.  "So that convinced you it'd be okay to love
your brother?"
   "Well, I loved you against my own will.  I'd broken my own rule and
allowed myself to love you.  Then I'd pushed you away so you would find a
love and you did.  But I just realized that the thing that mattered was the
love.  Then when Joie told me she was dying -"
   "She told you?"
   "Yes, and she told me about her brother.  She also told me that one day
you might return to me and that I should think long and hard before sending
you away again.  She loved you so much, Paul."
   "I miss her terribly."
   "She wished only joy in your life and she was so sad that she was going
to cause you such pain.  It was the most loving thing I have ever seen. 
When you called me that day to tell me about your hike, I worried you might
die."
   "You told me that yesterday."
   "I wanted to make sure you heard it, because that was the day I decided
that if you came back, I wouldn't send you away ever again."
   "I love you, Emma.  I've always loved you."
   "I've loved you forever and my love has evolved."
   Over the next several months Emma fed me enough to get me back to a
healthy weight.  We reopened our exploration of one another and we started
planning what we wanted to do together.  Several of the things she wanted
to do were tied up in the farm but I don't think she understood the amount
of wealth we now had.  When I told her I had accumulated nearly fifty
million dollars in our six years apart and I wanted her to stop working on
this farm and go see the world together, her ideas became a little more
exploratory.
   One of Emma's lifetime desires was to go to the Netherlands to see the
tulips and other flowers they grow by the thousands.  She'd shone me
pictures in one of her text books as a child.  There'd been row upon row of
them forming a multicolored rainbow.  I remembered asking her where those
were and she'd told me Holland, where they have those wooden shoes. 
Afterword, she'd read to me from 'Hans Brinker, or The Silver Skates', the
story about the boy who put his finger in the dike.
   The fact that she really wanted to go had come up again when we'd
planted the first bulbs in the front flower bed.  That was when she'd told
me that tulips represent perfect love.  All of these ideas rolled around in
my head together and I decided we'd just go.  I called and got reservations
and airline tickets for the weekend.  Although spring planting was done I
wanted to convince her to let another farmer tend the field or perhaps just
let them overgrow.  When I asked her of course it'd been very carefully
worded - um - well I'm not very tactful.
   "So, when we go to the Netherlands, should we just burn the crops or let
them rot in the field?"
   "Um - what?"
   "I'm thinking burn them."
   "What are you on about?"
   "We're going to the Netherlands tomorrow.  So, I'm trying to figure out
what to do about the crops."
   "We're going?"
   "I've got the tickets and reservations.  We're going to Holland, you
know like the shoes and tulips."
   "I know where the Netherlands is.  I haven't got anything packed or
anything to wear."
   "What you're wearing is fine.  We can pack a few things and buy whatever
we want or need.  It's time to start living this life."
   "You've lost your mind!"
   "No, I found you, my other half, again," I said grinning ear to ear. 
"Come on it'll be fun; you've wanted to go forever.  This is the time to
see the tulips; they're going to be at their peak.  Let's go and see and
do."
   There was some hesitation; I could tell she was worrying about crops and
the house and a dozen other things that didn't matter as long as we were
together.
   "Emma, as long as I'm with you I'll have everything I need.  Let's pack
what we need in a very small travel bag and go."
   "When is the flight?" she said finally smiling at the idea.
   "We need to be there just before noon."
   As the saying goes 'veni vidi vici' and we did.  Emma and I came, saw
and conquered, well figuratively.  The tulips had been her favorite and the
windmills were a close second followed by the engineering feats of the
crazy water bridges that carried boats over road traffic or even other
waterways.  Of course our trip to see the tulips turned into a month long
romp across Europe.  We could have gone longer, but at a certain point,
we'd seen so much art and history, that we needed a break before going back
at it.
   When we got back home and settled into our bed there was a palpable
tension about us.  We were crazy in love and back in the house where it'd
all started.  She had that look in her eye and suddenly we were kissing and
making out like that summer so long ago.  The experiences life had brought
us, simply made this love that much stronger.
   "What do you think you're doing, Squirt?" she asked when I began feeling
her breasts through her blouse.
   "Sorry, mother may I feel your breasts?" I asked her as I restarted the
game we'd played so long ago.
   She nodded affirmatively and waited.  She smile and finally said, "Yes
you may."
   The game quickly devolved into us pulling each other's clothing off
because she wanted to use one of the toys we'd gotten in the red light
district.  I didn't know that it excited her, but she wanted a toy in her
butt while I made love to her.  I loved the sense of exploration and so I
lubed up the narrow cylinder and let her put it inside.  With it inserted
she climbed atop me and I ate her tulips eagerly while she sucked my cock
in our soixante-neuf.  The buzzing on my lips and tongue had me wanting to
see what it would be like with my member in there, but I licked and tongued
her until she was squealing from the pleasure.
   "Yesss.  Oh, gawd, I need - my baby - brother's - cock," she said as she
climbed off and lied upon the bed.
   I wanted my cock inside her and she'd read my mind.  Her words always
seemed to work on me as well as any physical contact.  When I went to
insert, I met wonderful resistance accompanied by the vibrations the passed
through her.
   "Oh, that's nice," I said as I slid within her.
   The vibrations tingled the length of me even when I was mostly
withdrawn. Every stroke pushed us both closer and closer to oblivion.  I
could see the lust and love in her eyes as I pounded away at her.  There
was no one who loved me as completely as she did and her love poured forth
through the window to my soulmates eyes.
   Looking down at us coupling, I was taken instantly back to the time I'd
told her I loved her after we'd finished.  That time had followed with a
small hurt, but this time there would be complete acceptance of my love and
everything it carried.
   "I'm cumming Emma.  I love you so much.  Oh fuck - I love you."
   "Shoot it inside me; fill me with your seed.  I love you too.  Cum
inside!  Squirt - oh - yeah - baby - I feel it - squirting inside."
   Rope after rope rushed out of me, and Emma locked her legs around me to
pull me in tight.  She froze in that position as we both twitched through
our simultaneous orgasms.
   When she finally relaxed and unlocked her legs I rolled beside her and
said, "I think I may start drawing again."
   "I may have to start posing again."
   "You just did, don't be too greedy."
   After about a month home, we'd settled into being a real couple.  We
weren't doing much about the crops and we'd just finished making plans for
our next adventure.  Emma got up to use the restroom and I was sitting on
the bed thinking about Greece.  I was having mixed feelings about going
there.  It would bring back Joie in a way, but Emma wanted to go and I
couldn't let her down.
   We weren't going to the same villa at least and the isles would be
beautiful.  While I thought about the trip, I made a realization and
stupidly said it aloud, well actually I yelled it so she'd hear me.
   "It seems like we made love at least twice as often since we've been
home as we did on our trip!"
   A crash of glass came from the bathroom and I rushed to the door.  "Are
you okay?" I asked standing in the doorway.  Seeing the shattered glass on
the floor, I bent immediately to start picking up the shards.  I was so
concerned that she not cut her feet that my focus was on the glass and
them. When she didn't respond, I looked up to see her expression, "Em, are
you cut?"
   "Yeah - um - no - this wasn't - it's not supposed to be possible."
   "It's just glass, are you alright?  Do I need to call the doctor?" I
asked thinking maybe she was having a stroke from the way she was speaking.
   "No - yeah - maybe - eventually.  Sorry sweetie, I'll be fine," she said
turning from the sink to see my concern.  "It's a good thing this time,"
she reassuringly mumbled to herself.  "This time I'll have you," she said
and then laughed a little.
   "Here, step over to me.  I think you need to sit down; I'll get the rest
up later," I said as I held out my hand.
   That was when I saw what she had and instead of taking my hand, she
placed it into my hand.  I looked at it and then at her and then at the box
on the bathroom sink.  The words didn't seem to register correctly as I
read them.  Test It was a test, and this thing in my hand meant something.
The weight of her stare as she placed it in my hand told me this was
important.  The white plastic stick and the plus sign.  There was a deep
meaning that was being blocked by shock.
   "Wait - what - I thought -"
   Then she stepped over the glass to take my hand and lead me back to the
bed.  We sat and then lay together nude while our hands caressed each other
gently.  I could see there were tears forming in her eyes but they seemed
to be tears of joy.  Surprised and overjoyed, Emma began nodding her head
affirmatively and then hugged me tightly around my neck with her left arm.
   Her right hand trembled as she caressed my face, "I guess they were
wrong and I'm so happy."
   "Me too, it's the best thing that's ever happened," I said softly.
   "I can't believe it's happening, again."
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1D1q3qp 
  
Quixotic Rapprochement