Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Rag Doll Ch.  06 Pt.  01
Summary: Bobby, Rick, and the girls come to America.
Keywords: inc,fic
   It felt good to have the space and freedom to consider what to do with
my life, and to throw my lot in with my family (and now it didn't feel so
strange to say that word...).
   I think I'd finally started to become a better person; of course, the
new me was still a lot like the old me; these things take time, there was a
lot of garbage still stirring around inside me that I had to unlearn, and
there were still social graces and nuances of interacting with other people
that I just didn't get at all.
   But now I had Shari, my new-found sister, to help me; for some unknown
reason, she loved me; actually, she loved me more than it was proper for a
sister to love her younger brother, but I didn't care, because I loved her
the same way.  Shari was truly lovely, as well as warm, kind, patient,
understanding, organised, fiercely protective of her younger sister, Yaz,
and loved my younger brother (and hers, too) Rick, who was in love with
Yaz, and vice-versa.
   Shari had shown me what it could be like to care for another person.  It
wasn't long after Rick brought Shari and Yaz to live at the house that I
discovered he and Yaz were in love, stumbling on the two of them making
love, brother and sister relationship be damned.  Yaz was gorgeous; Rick
was almost ridiculously good looking, so I suppose it was inevitable the
two of them found each other, especially at a time when they so desperately
needed someone.  Shari had tried to engage me in a similar relationship,
but I was too unsettled by what I'd seen, and what little I'd done with her
had made me feel like it was somehow wrong and shameful.
   Eventually I had seen what and who Shari really was, her vulnerability
and her need, and finally understood it matched my own.  To my amazement, I
discovered what it was to actually love someone and need them, and to have
that love and need reciprocated.  In a very real sense she'd pulled me back
from the lip of suicide, and showed me that life could have meaning, that
finally I wasn't alone.
   So now Rick and Yaz lived in part of the house and Shari and I lived in
part of the house, although we still spent most of our time together.  We'd
split the house into two dwellings: the upper floor for Rick and Yaz, the
middle floor for Shari and me, and the ground floor as a family space, with
the dining room, sitting rooms, and the kitchen.  I had begun to feel a
puzzling, and surprisingly deep attachment to Rick and Yaz; perhaps some of
Shari had finally rubbed-off on me.  Splitting the house the way we had was
my way of ensuring my kid brother and my little sister stayed close and
connected to me.
   I'd had an epiphany over Nicky, where I realised just how I'd wronged
him; Rick had shown me just how wrong I'd been, how much we'd hurt and
abandoned Nicky, how alone we'd left him.  If it wasn't for Barbara, he'd
have had nothing in his life.  He tried to be my big brother, and I slapped
him away, we both did.  We never knew that our father had abducted him from
his mother when he was still a toddler; we always thought Nicky was
Barbara's son, they'd been so close, and then that fateful night when he
disappeared, my father had beaten him half to death.  Barbara, my mother,
had I but known it, had helped him to leave, but she'd left no clue where
he'd gone, and she was dead the next day, murdered by that bastard now
rotting in an American prison.  Nearly four years after her death, prompted
by Shari, we'd finally gone to visit her grave, to apologise for
everything, and ask her forgiveness.
   When we arrived at the cemetery, we were shocked to find the huge,
ornate memorial my lying, despicable father had erected was gone, and in
its place was a small, dignified headstone with a simple, heartfelt message
of love.  I knew straight away that Nicky had done this, and my heart
leaped; he was alive, he'd survived, dear God, our big brother was alive,
and he'd come back!
   I was still reeling from that revelation when Shari noticed something;
there was a flower-holder set into the base of the headstone, and there was
a handful of what I'd at first thought were weeds, but Shari bent down and
pulled a stalk out of the holder, and I saw it was a flower.  A few faded
blue petals still clung to the stem in among the brown, curled petals, and
when she bent the stalk, it didn't snap, it was still fresh and pliable. 
The implications hit us immediately; those flowers were only put there a
little while ago, maybe only a week or two, and there was only one person
in the world who'd come here to do that.  Nicky had been here just a short
while ago, he'd been less than half a mile from our front door, but he'd
not contacted us, and once again those feelings of guilt and shame, and
loss, too, resurfaced.  We'd made him hate us, for our constant rejection
of him and our mother, for our steadfast refusal to do or say anything
while our father beat the hell out of her, and for being the spoiled little
pigs we'd been all our lives.
   Shari saw all this going through my mind, and reached up to gently cup
my face in her hands.
   "It's okay baby, it's okay, he'll come back one day, he's not like how
you were, you said that yourself; with all that happened to him here, he
still came back to her, and he'll come back again one day, when enough time
has passed.  Let's go home, baby, it's cold, and we have to talk."
   We trailed back to the car in silence, lost in our thoughts, Shari kept
her arm through mine, her warm hand in my pocket holding mine, and when I
looked down at her she smiled back at me, with just a hint of sadness in
her eyes.  Initially it had felt peculiar to me, this connection she was
trying to forge with Nicky, but then, when I thought about it, perhaps not
so peculiar after all.  She had every right to try and find some part of
him for herself; he was her big brother too, and if she'd never known him,
it wasn't her fault.
   Back at the house, Yaz and Shari set about making lunch while Rick and I
sat huddled in our own thoughts, exchanging the occasional guilty look as
we flicked through the pile of photo albums, looking, really looking, at
our mother, seeing her features in ourselves.  There was no doubt in my
mind that Rick resembled dad, as did Nicky, but now I could see Barbara in
him too, in his eyebrows, his jaw-line, his cheekbones, his ears.
   Rick was obviously thinking the same thing as he constantly flicked his
gaze from the albums to my face and back again.  Yaz finally broke the
morose silence by calling us into the dining room, where the girls had made
pork chops and baked potatoes, with green peas, carrots, and creamy baked
onions, and a big apple pie for dessert.
   Shari and Yaz tried to keep a flow of light conversation through the
meal, but their efforts were falling on deaf ears as Rick and I stared
unseeingly at the wall and chewed mechanically, our minds still at our
mother's graveside.
   "...and so I said he could fuck me, but only if I got to wear a sheep
costume and call him Bo Peep!"
   I looked around as that last comment finally seeped into my head.
   "Wha...?" I blurted, and Shari grinned at me.
   "Finally, the Sleeper Awakens!  We've been talking to you two
space-cases for the last ten minutes, and both of you have just been
sitting there staring blankly with your lips moving!  Eat your lunch, it's
getting cold, we have things to discuss and a few things Yaz wants to run
past all of us; that means you two have to be on the same planet as the
rest of us earthlings, so call your mother-ship, tell them you'll phone
home later, and get cracking on your lunch Bobby, and you too, Ricky, we
didn't spend all that time slaving over it just to watch it get cold."
   Yaz smiled minxily at Ricky, who glanced guiltily at his full plate and
started forking his food away , as did I, suddenly discovering just how
delicious that meal was; my sisters are superb cooks, I have to say, and
I'll take serious issue with anyone who says otherwise.  All too soon, our
plates were empty, and Rick helped Yaz clear the table, finally bringing in
a jug of coffee and a handful of mugs from the kitchen.  Once everyone was
seated again, Yaz started talking.
   "Shari, boys, you know we agreed that we'd invest all the money we got
from the sale of the business in a new, family venture.  Well I think I
know what we're going to do.  As we're all aware, Shari knows the Property
Development game as well as mummy ever did, I know how to assess and
negotiate, Ricky knows how to renovate and repair to a high standard, and I
think you're going to want to get your hand in as well, Bobby.  I've been
doing a little research on the property markets in this city, and there's
quite a lot that should interest any property developer.  Did you know
there's a university right here in Carlisle?"
   I did, but I'd never paid it much attention; none of the students ever
spoke to me or paid any attention to me except to look disgusted and cross
the road when I came trundling by with the road sweeper going full blast.
Yaz grinned as she continued.
   "Where there's a university there are students, and where there are
students, there's usually a chronic shortage of accommodation, and Carlisle
is no exception.  I had a talk with the Housing Officer at the university,
and she told me that they are having to board students with families all
over this part of Cumbria, just to give them somewhere to live, and the
problem gets worse every year as the students have to move out of Halls at
the end of their first year to make room for the new intake, and so they
have to find somewhere to place that class."
   "There are several places I think we could convert into student housing
quite easily; that place two doors along is a good one; it's empty, and has
been for a while, I counted at least six bedrooms, it's almost as big as
this place, so if Shari likes it too, maybe we should seriously consider
buying it and converting it into student housing."
   Shari looked at Rick and me.
   "Well, what do you think?  Should we go with Yaz's recommendation? 
Speak up, guys, this is your chance to say yea or nay."
   As my knowledge of the property market could have been printed in full
on a pinhead, I just nodded, trusting Shari and Yaz on this.  Rick sat
silent for a few seconds, mulling over what Yaz had said, then cocked an
eye at Shari.
   "We'd need to move fast, and work even faster, if we want to get
anything in place for the early-summer housing rush, but I think we could
do it, if we get the right people.  Okay, game-on!"
   Shari smiled, then sobered up again.
   "Now for the other thing; if you're serious about tracking Nicky down,
then perhaps we should do something about it.  Maybe we should hire an
investigation agency, there must be those that specialise in tracking-down
missing persons.  If no-one objects, I'm going to give that a try.  You two
have a think about Nicky, what he liked, where he might have gone, or where
he might have been; we know he was abducted from America, could he have
gone back there to try and find his mother?  Ricky, see if you can dig up
anything in that pile of papers in the attic, maybe there's a clue in
there, or something that will help an investigator, or if mummy told you
anything more, or even just mentioned in passing.  That bastard used to
boast to her all the time about what he did; maybe he let something slip
one time about who and where he took Nicky from."
   And so it was decided; we would kick-off the family business with Yaz's
recommendation, and while we did that, we'd look for Nicky, now that we
knew he was out there.  We were all feeling the urge to bring him back,
Rick and me because we needed to apologise to him, and the girls because
they needed their big brother, period.
   Once the business of the day was concluded, Rick and Yaz disappeared
into the family room to watch TV while Shari and I lingered over fresh
coffees.  We'd both seen the looks and secret little smiles they'd been
exchanging, so it was no surprise to find the family room empty when we
finally made our way there to sprawl on one of the big soft couches in
there.  At least whatever they were doing, they were doing it two floors up
and out of earshot, so we wouldn't be disturbed, although Shari was looking
like she wouldn't mind me disturbing her at all.  We sat in comfortable
silence for a few minutes, finishing our coffees, constantly making and
breaking eye-contact, until Shari couldn't take any more, throwing her leg
over me and straddling me as she sat in my lap, grinning as she laced her
fingers behind my neck.
   "Okay, coffee-break's over, time for some happy-time, baby, are you
ready to play?" she grinned, grinding herself against the lump that had
magically appeared in my jeans.  My hands automatically slid around her
waist, then down, to cup and squeeze her firm little backside, making her
grin even wider.
   "Ooohh Bobby, you do want to play, don't you?" she pouted at me, a
wicked glint in her eye, as she began to slide herself back and forth on my
lap, making my cock grow and harden almost painfully.
   Shari leaned down to kiss me, just a light, playful brush of her lips
against mine, her tongue flicking out for a second, before catching my
bottom lip between her teeth and nibbling gently.  Something made me pull
her closer, Shari grinning as I suddenly pulled her up against me, crushing
her breasts against me as I captured her lips this time, my tongue parting
her lips to fence lightly with hers.  Shari returned the kiss even more
fervently, until we were lip-locked, my hands clamped around her lovely,
firm bum, holding her tightly to me.  Eventually, Shari broke our kiss and
climbed off my lap, much to my disappointment.  She must have seen my look,
as she leaned down to kiss me quickly.
   "Two seconds, baby, just got to get something!" and with that she dashed
upstairs; after a few seconds, I heard her light tread as she skipped
downstairs again.  She came back into the family room carrying a quilt and
a couple of pillows.  She threw them on the couch and slipped out of her
harem slippers and began undoing her jeans.
   "Come on baby, aren't you joining me?" she grinned, and I jumped up and
began kicking my shoes off as I almost yanked my jeans down in my haste! 
By the time I got my jeans off and tugged my polo shirt off, Shari was down
to her skimpy little panties and bra, and looked like the best reason in
the world for a rampage.  She grinned at me as I took in the full impact of
her long, sleek, shapely legs and tight, luscious little bottom hugged
inside her tight panties, her small, high breasts clearly outlined in the
light bra she was wearing.  Two intriguing, tempting little points poking
through the material, and the tumbled mass of her Titian hair, a lustrous
cascade of red-bronze, framed her beautiful, heart-shaped face, contrasting
perfectly with her creamy complexion.
   "Is that all you're going to do, baby, stare at me?" she teased, turning
her back to unhook her bra, flirting her gorgeous little bum at me, barely
concealed as it was in her filmy panties.  All I could do was look at her,
taking in the elegance of her long, sleek back and slim waist, her flaring
hips and her perfectly rounded, pert little bum cheeks, just built for
fondling and nibbling, the smooth skin and perfect muscle tone, and once
again the contrast of that silky mass of bronze hair against her creamy
skin with its faint golden tinge hinting at her exotic heritage.
   I slipped up behind her and slid my arms around her waist, hooking my
thumbs in her panties and sliding them off before moving my hands up her
rib-cage to cup her firm little breasts and gently tease and squeeze her
hard nipples.  Shari giggled and thrust her bum back into my groin,
trapping my cock in the tight cleft between her buttocks, and rolling them
to squeeze me playfully.
   "Bobby, is that all for me?" she whispered wickedly, grinding her bum
against my stiffened cock, then turning to once again kiss me while
simultaneously grinding her crotch against mine.  I was in a state of
exquisite agony now; I was holding a beautiful naked girl, and there was
only one thing I wanted to do with her, but blindly gratifying myself
wasn't part of the new me; I owed my awakening to her, and I knew what I
wanted to do to her to make her feel as good as I did right then.
   I slid her off me, holding her by her waist as I urged her down next to
me, kissing and licking her taut nipples, making her sigh and moan softly
as my teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.  I continued kissing and licking in
a line down her taut stomach, making her wriggle and sigh delightfully,
savouring the feel of her warm silky skin against my lips and tongue, until
my tongue-tip lapped at the apex to her fragrant slit.
   Shari groaned as I teased her lips apart, flicking my tongue over her
clitoris in its little hood.  She responded by twining her fingers in my
hair and pushing her mound against my mouth as I bored-in, flatting my
tongue to lick her in long sweeping passes the length of her slit, feeling
her labia pulse against my tongue as they swelled and darkened with her
arousal.  Her scent surrounded me, filling my head with her sweet,
seductive musk, turning all my thoughts to her, losing myself in what I was
doing to please my girl, my whole heart and soul in her hands as I drank
her salty, tangy sweetness, my tongue gently rubbing and licking her hard
little button, her juices flowing over my tongue as I lapped and drank her
   Finally, after a few minutes, or a few hours, I'm not sure which, Shari
reached down to cup my face.
   "Baby, it's your turn, sweetie!" she murmured, sliding away from me and
kneeling-up to kiss me, with me responding by once again holding and
squeezing her taut bottom as my lips sought hers.  Shari responded by
gently grasping my now rigidly erect cock, squeezing me with one hand as
she fondled my balls with the other.  She broke our kiss to smile wickedly
before dropping her head down to lightly lick the tip of my cock.  I
groaned at the feel of her tongue on me, and at the sight of her gorgeous
little bottom thrust so provocatively in the air as she continued to kiss,
lick, and finally suck me.  I twined my fingers in her luxuriant hair,
enjoying the feel of the silken strands as her head bobbed on my cock,
anything to distract me from the feel of her hot mouth sucking and licking
me so perfectly.
   At last I could bear it no longer; as I slid into a prone position on
the couch, she followed me down, still sucking avidly, her grey eyes
looking directly into mine all the while.  I sighed and reached for her,
pulling her up to me, Shari grinning as she slid up next to me, one hand
still wrapped around my cock.  She looked into my eyes, guessing what I
wanted to do, and smiled as she straddled me facing my erect cock, then
dipped down to once again take me in her mouth.  I held her hips and looked
in fascinated wonder at her beautiful pussy and little pale-brown balloon
knot, before pulling her back and up to my mouth so I could taste her and
pleasure her once again the way she was pleasuring me.
   She still tasted wonderful; sweet, and tangy, with a soft musky
saltiness that told of her excitement, and as I licked and sucked at the
succulent morsel spread for my delight, so she sucked me, sighing and
mewling when I did something she especially liked.  She smelled delicious,
and I couldn't get enough of her, each probing penetration of my tongue
making her sigh and suck me even more avidly than before.  She had a really
cute, sweet little pussy, neat and feminine, not like some of the fleshy,
splayed-open things I'd seen in my porn mags, and she was as much a treat
for my eyes as a feast for my probing tongue.
   I don't know how long we teased and pleased each other, but neither of
us wanted to finish this; it was too intimate, too loving to rush, there
was no urgent need to race to a climax, and we were content to please and
love each other in this way for as long as we could.  Eventually, though,
excitement and stimulation began to win out, Shari thrilling for longer and
harder as I tasted, licked, sucked and probed, pushing my tongue as far
into her as I could, until, on impulse, I licked her quivering little
rosebud, gently pushing and squirming my pointed tongue-tip as far into the
tight little knot of her anus as I could.
   She screamed around my cock as she climaxed, a flood of her tangy juices
spraying gently across my face and into my mouth, exciting me even further;
her sucking efforts on my cock redoubled, and as she squeezed and fisted me
as she sucked, I too passed that point, groaning out loud as I came in a
white-hot rush of spunk, my cock twitching and flexing as if it had a life
of its own as I pumped pulse after pulse of my sperm into her hot and
willing mouth.
   Shari slumped down on me, her body twitching and shaking in the
aftermath of her orgasm, her lips still fastened around me as her busy
tongue continued to lap at the trickle of spunk oozing from the end of my
cock.  We lay quiet and unmoving, waiting for the world to come back into
focus, Shari slumped on top of me, her tempting, beautiful little pussy and
quivering, delicate little rosebud filling my field of view.  My hands
played and held her sexy cheeks, rubbing and squeezing the firm flesh,
revelling in the springy, juicy firmness, the sexy quiver, and the
delightful little bounce of her own personal golden globes.  At last she
stirred, to swivel round and crawl up next to me and lay her head in the
crook of my neck with a happy sigh.
   "That was wonderful, Bobby, thank you!" she whispered, making me blush.
I squeezed her close to cover my confusion, and kissed her once on her
nose, and longer on her sexy lips, while allowing my hands to roam over her
sexy back and squeeze her deliciously firm bum cheeks some more.  There was
one thing I wanted to know, not that I had any business asking, and it made
no difference to me, but a gadfly of curiosity was at me, and I had to ask
her just once.
   "Shari, with all the things you know, all the things you're teaching me,
I know that I'm not your first, and I don't care, but I've got to ask, and
if you tell me to mind my own fucking business I will and never ask you
again, but...I'm kind of curious; where did you learn all this stuff?"
   Shari looked up into my eyes, possibly looking for any hidden reasons I
may have had for asking; if so she'd have found nothing but my own passing
curiosity, and I meant it; if she told me to fuck off and mind my own
business I knew I'd never ask her again; it really was none of my business.
She looked into my eyes for a moment longer, then nodded.
   "I suppose I knew you'd ask one day, but really there's nothing there,
no secret life as a call-girl or anything like that!" she grinned, and I
also grinned, putting her back at her ease.
   "I had a boyfriend, a long-term boyfriend, Graeme his name was, we were
in school together, after we left school we stayed together, we did all the
things boyfriends and girlfriends do, some of which you get the benefit of,
Bobby!" she grinned, gently flicking the end of my flaccid penis, making me
jump.
   "After a while, I realised he'd never taken me back to his house, never
taken me to meet his parents or any of his family; he always had a reason,
but the upshot was that he always came over to our house, he always picked
me up if we were going out somewhere, and he never took me to his parents
place on things like Christmas, New Year, family celebrations.  It all came
to a head when his sister got married, and he never told me.  Instead, he
took another girl as his date.  Of course I was furious; I'd been with him
for almost three years, yet I'd never met any of his family, and when he
had the perfect opportunity to introduce me to them, he took some blonde
slapper he'd met in a pub!"
   I could see the anger and the hurt building in her eyes, and tried to
dissipate it for her.
   "Shari, I'm sorry, you don't have to go on, I don't need to hear any
more..." I started, but she shook her head.
   "No Bobby, I want you to hear all of this, then perhaps you'll
understand a bit more about us, about you and me."
   She started again, her eyes far away as she looked at something I
couldn't see.
   "When I found out what he'd done, of course I was furious; he'd told me
that weekend he had to go away for work reasons, and he'd see me when he
got back.  It was only when one of my so-called friends let slip what he
was actually doing that weekend that it really hit the fan.  When he turned
up on Sunday evening all safe and secure in the knowledge that I was none
the wiser he was completely unprepared for the broadside he got.  I think I
called him a "gutless, pencil-dicked pansy" in a crowded pub, poured my
drink over his head, and kneed him in the balls to drive home just how
pissed-off I really was.  When I found out the actual reason why he did
that to me, I was going to hunt him down and slow-roast his cock with a
Zippo, believe me!  He can thank Yaz for the continued existence of his
prick, because if she hadn't stopped me, I was going to find him, yank it
off, and barbecue it in front of him!"
   She paused to gather her thoughts.
   "That little worm was afraid his family would find out I wasn't white,
that their precious little Anglo-Saxon paladin been getting jiggy with a
jungle-bunny, knocking-off some girl with a touch of the Tar-Brush.  His
family didn't care to sully their WASP heritage with darkies like l'il ole
me, he'd just been too gutless to tell me; but he was quite happy to drag
me off on weekenders in isolated hotels around the South Coast so we could
bang each other senseless!  That's what hurt the most, that he used me like
that; I was white enough to fuck, but not white enough to meet his precious
family."
   She suddenly grinned.
   "I found out later his father was a solid member of that band of
primitives, the British National Party; if he'd found out his son was
dipping his dick in a darkie he'd probably have crucified him out on the
lawn on a burning cross, or burned him alive in one of those Wicker-Man
things!  Anyway, after him, there were no more boyfriends; I just didn't
trust any Englishman not to do that to me all over again.  When I first met
Ricky and saw how he bonded with Yaz, I kind of revised my opinions a
little; he had absolutely no hang-ups about skin-colour or whites versus
coloured or any of that nonsense.  I don't think it ever even occurred to
him that he was any different from her, and he was just so good for her, so
I was happy for her, because now she had a protector as well as a new
best-friend."
   I was at a loss to understand how her ethnicity could have been a
problem; however you looked at her, she was stunning, flame-haired and
creamy-skinned, with the perfect features of a carved idol in some eastern
temple, beautiful and alluring; any real man would give his eye-teeth and
his right arm to the elbow for a chance to win her.  Her ex-boyfriend's
attitude defeated me; prejudice was something I understood, but had never
really encountered, and certainly not prejudice of the sort she'd just
described.  I could see it had hurt her deeply.
   "Shari, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rake that up, I promise you, I'll
never do anything like that to you, I swear on my life!"
   Shari smiled at me, and curled her hand around my chin.
   "I know you won't, Bobby, you don't have that kind of evil in you, I saw
that from the start; you were angry, understandably, but you weren't a
bigoted idiot.  You were just like Ricky in that respect, and you were
honest, which is why I found you so attractive; the fact you're gorgeous
might have had a little to do with it as well!  You're honest, and now all
that anger and loss is gone, you're just a regular, decent bloke, and
that's why I'm yours, and you're mine, Bobby Davies!"
   All this soul-searching and confession was making me more than
uncomfortable, plus her description of me seemed idealised and
romanticised, to say the least, but at least now I knew what she really
thought of me, and it was vastly comforting to know there was one person in
the entire universe who I could 100% rely on to be there for me, and it was
Shari.  Holding her close to me as I did, her warm, lithe body pressed
tightly to mine, the reaction of my body to her touch was both inevitable
and hardly unexpected, something she was quick to notice.
   "Well Hello, Bobby!  Someone's in the mood for more fun and games!" she
smiled, running her hand down my body to take hold of me and squeeze
suggestively, making me even harder.  I pulled her on top of me, holding
her by her perfect bum-cheeks while she showered my face and neck with
kisses, squirming delightfully against me, rolling my trapped cock between
our bellies as she kissed me everywhere except on my lips.  Shari's
favourite way to make love is with her on top, so I tried to manoeuvre her
into position, but she had other ideas, instead sliding off me to lie on
her back on the couch.
   "Make love to me, Bobby!" she whispered, a request I was only too happy
to comply with.  I kissed and licked her neat little breasts, entranced, as
always, by her long, stiff nipples, always the perfect treat for me to suck
on, and suck I did, my tongue lapping as my lips caressed those tempting
peaks of flesh, making her flush as she sighed and murmured underneath me.
She took hold of me, her hands gentle but firm on my now throbbing cock as
she fisted me, making me even hotter for her.
   "Now, Bobby!" she moaned, and I needed no more urging, sliding between
her supple thighs and taking hold of her behind her knees, holding her open
for me as I slid forward.  Shari took hold of me once again, aiming me as I
pushed forward, sliding my engorged cock deep into her in one long, steady
thrust.
   "Ooooh God, yess, Bobby, yess, like that, yes, baby, like that!" she
muttered as I took my weight on my knees and elbows, and as I began to
slide back out of her again, she shuddered and twitched under me, her hips
thrusting up to meet my thrusts, the two of us pumping at each other in
perfect synchronisation.  Shari pulled my head down to plant her lips on
mine as her long legs folded themselves around me, locking around me and
pulling me in ever deeper with every thrust.  Our tongues fenced madly as
we pumped against each other, the only sound that of our breathing and our
bellies slapping together as we fucked so deliciously.
   I could feel her excitement growing, igniting a frenzy in me, and I
rammed myself into her as hard as I could, until
   "Ooohhh God, Bobby, ooohh Bobby, oooh yess!  Ooohh Yess!  YESSS!" she
shrieked, her pussy clamping down tight on me as her inner walls fluttered
and rippled against me, squeezing me and setting off my own orgasm.  My
ears popped and my vision blurred as jet after jet of spunk poured out of
me and into her, the feel of me ejaculating inside her sending her into
ever more spasms as her orgasm rang and ricocheted around inside her.  We
peaked at that moment of complete stillness as we strained against each
other, finally falling back, drained and exhausted, but utterly, completely
satisfied.
   As I lay next to her, gasping for breath, Shari suddenly rolled against
me, draping her leg over mine, her lips meeting my neck, where she kissed
me gently.
   "My Bobby, and don't you forget it!" she whispered before falling back
exhausted and on the verge of sleep.  I was in no better shape, so I pulled
the quilt up over our nakedness, spooned her warm body against me, and that
was how Yaz found us several hours later; I knew it was Yaz, because when
we eventually woke in the early evening, Shari's and my clothes had been
neatly folded and stacked on one of the chairs, and a couple of extra
pillows had been added to the pair Shari had snagged from upstairs.
   *
   The negotiations to purchase the house dragged on for almost a month,
but eventually the absentee owner quit trying to horse-trade and settled on
a price less than we'd been prepared to pay, but more than he thought he'd
get, so everyone was happy, and we finally took possession of the property
in mid-December.
   By now, it was almost Christmas, something I'd never really paid
attention to; our father had always ignored it, but I think Barbara had
secretly given Nicky presents for Christmas; at least after it had come and
gone he'd have a new pair of shoes, or a pair of jeans, or a new jacket;
never anything for us, though, and certainly nothing from our father.  I
felt a surge of hot shame inside when I remembered how our father had
always bought good quality clothes and shoes for us, and almost nothing for
Nicky; he always seemed to be in shabby, threadbare clothes on the verge of
falling apart, faded jeans covered in darns, and battered training shoes,
and yet we'd even begrudged him the few nice things Barbara had given him.
   When Shari learned that Christmas actually meant nothing to me she was
outraged, actually disgusted that our father had denied me such a
fundamental part of childhood, and so she and Yaz went on a mission: to
bring Christmas to me and this house.  She secretly bought a tree, and a
whole bunch of lights and decorations, and then one night, while I was fast
asleep, the two girls and Rick sneaked downstairs and decorated the parlour
and the family room for Christmas.  They put up the tree with all the
lights, decorated it, then must have spent most of the night putting
Christmas decorations all over the downstairs living rooms.
   When I came down for breakfast I was amazed; I'd never seen a real
family home decorated for Christmas, only in films and TV shows, and it
felt like something I had never even realised was missing from my life had
suddenly appeared, something important and essential; all that tinsel and
glitter, the candy canes and snowmen, the tree, was just the most beautiful
thing I'd ever seen; the house finally looked like a home; our family home.
I didn't know what to say, I was literally speechless, and Shari's eyes
were sparkling at my reaction.
   "Do you like it, Bobby?" she asked shyly, and I grabbed her and Yaz and
hugged them both.
   "Thank you for Christmas, both of you, it's the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen!" I stammered, the last shreds of my old life falling away
from me.  We were still standing around admiring the tree when the doorbell
rang.  Yaz went to answer it and came back with a FedEx pouch.  She tore it
open, and inside was a folder with all the deeds to the house we'd just
bought two doors away, and a big bunch of keys.
   The debate started immediately; Shari wanted to wait until after we'd
had breakfast, but Rick and Yaz wanted to just go and open the place up and
have a quick look around to see if there were any glaring issues, and I had
to admit I was curious as well, so we wrapped up warm and trudged down the
road to have a nose through our new property.
   After much fumbling, Rick managed to locate the correct keys for the
huge old front door, and then we had to really lean on the door to open it.
When we got it open we found out why.  There was an absolute mountain of
ancient and not so ancient mail, circulars, pizza flyers, and old
newspapers piled up just behind the door, a very effective barricade.  It
was almost pitch black in there.  Most of the downstairs windows were
heavily shuttered, making the place a musty-smelling, lightless cavern; a
quick check of the lights confirmed the electricity was off, so we decided
to come back another time a little better prepared, and open the place up
properly so we could get a good look at what we'd bought.  Yaz grinned and
grabbed an armful of the letters, saying that she might as well have a sort
through to see if there were any with return addresses.
   Once back home, while Shari and I busied ourselves making breakfast,
Rick and Yaz quickly scanned though the pile of dry, fusty envelopes,
piling all those with a return address to one side, joking and reading out
the postmarks and dates.  It was a few moments before I realised all had
gone quiet.  Shari and I looked over, and Yaz was holding Rick by the
shoulders while he stared at the envelope in his hand.
   "Ricky, what's wrong?" asked Shari, drying her hands and taking my hand.
   "Bobby...look here...look at this...!" came his strained voice.  I came
forward and Rick handed me the envelope; it was addressed to me, it had
obviously been mis-delivered, but I recognised the handwriting.
   It was from Nicky.
   I stared at it, shock and guilt warring in me all over again; this was
from my missing brother, sent from somewhere called Albany, way back last
summer.
   "Who's it from baby?" asked Shari, and all I could do was mumble
"Nicky...It's from...Nicky..."
   I looked helplessly at Shari, who gently touched my cheek.
   "Open it Bobby, it's a sign, it's what you were looking for.  He took
the time to write to you, aren't you curious what he had to say?"
   I looked the envelope over; there was no return address, just that
Albany postmark, and when I looked closely, I realised the stamp was a US
postage stamp.  This had come from America!  I still didn't know where
Albany was, but at least we knew one thing; he'd somehow made it home.  Did
he ever find his family?  We knew he'd come back at least once; Barbara's
new headstone told me that.
   I wavered, not wanting to damage that flimsy envelope, my only link with
him, so Yaz gently took it from me and carefully slit it along the top,
pulling out a single sheet of notepaper covered in dense handwriting.  She
looked at me, and I shrugged and nodded; he was her brother too, this
concerned all of us now, why shouldn't she read it?  She carefully
flattened the paper, and began to read out loud.
   "July 4th, 2012
   "Robert and Richard,
   I'm writing to you to request that you meet me in Carlisle at noon on
November 9th this year, at Barbara's graveside; I chose the date
deliberately, it's her birthday, and I wanted to see her on her own special
day, as I have some things I need to say to her, and perhaps you might too,
although I realise this might be me being more optimistic than realistic. I
really don't want any confrontations, or recriminations, or blame-games; my
wife and baby daughter will be there with me and they don't need to see
that side of our family, and it's too late for that anyway."
   "All I ask is that you join me to greet my mum and yours on her
birthday; that's right, she was your mother, even though she was never
allowed to tell you that.  Instead she had to watch as you turned away from
her and removed her from your lives, although that wasn't your fault.  She
never blamed you for that; she knew you didn't know any better.  Maybe now
we can together offer her an apology for not being there when she needed us
most, and to promise her we'll try and do better by the people in our lives
than she ever got from the people in hers.
   "I have waited for far too long already to come and see her; I left her
behind, and it will always tear at my heart that I didn't do enough to save
her.  I know and freely accept I bear a heavy portion of the guilt for her
death; if I had only pulled her onto the train with me that night, who
knows, maybe she would still be alive today, and that is the burden of
guilt I can never put down, that I didn't try hard enough to save her, that
I left her to die alone.  All the contrition in this world won't absolve me
of my part in her death; I know this; I feel it every day of my life.  Her
blood may not flow in my veins, but it's on my hands, and I can never wash
it away, nor should I.
   "Perhaps both of you will come one day to realise that Barbara really
was our mum.  She brought me up, she kept me safe and warm, she loved me
unquestioningly, and she would have done the same for you in a heartbeat,
but you were taken from her, and she was never allowed to have what she
wanted most in the world: to be your mother again.  In every possible way
that matters, she was the best thing in our lives, but we stood back and
let her go far too easily, and far too soon.
   "However, the past is what it is; none of what happened can be recalled,
or undone now, and the hurt has cut too deep to ever sponge it away, but
perhaps we can start again, this time as adults, brothers with a common
loss and maybe after all this time, a common grief.  I will be there
whether or not you decide to come.  I hope to see you there, but I will
understand if you don't, because, after all, perhaps not that much has
changed for you.
   "I do know one thing though: regardless of how you feel about her, I
know Barbara will always watch over you; even if you never honoured her,
she still mourned her loss of you.  In her heart she was always your
mother, both of you, and because you were once part of her, perhaps one day
you will hear her, as I did, and finally understand that she loved and
needed you, and never let you go, despite what life and her family had done
to her.  I hope that one day you will come to realise just how much we
threw away, and for that hope, and for our loss, and for her sake, I make
this request.  Please be there if you can.
   "Your brother
   "Nicky"
   Yaz put down the letter and looked at us, tears on her cheeks.
   "After all this time, he's still hurting so much!  Poor Nicky, so much
guilt and pain, and for nothing!  He went away again thinking you didn't
care, after he tried to reach out to you one last time, all that hurt and
loss...!"
   Rick tried to put his arm around her to comfort her, but she shook him
off.
   "No Ricky, don't...don't touch me, just don't!  You did this to him, you
and Bobby; he was alone, you left him out, you hurt him and made him hurt,
you never once tried to help him, and you let him leave!  He was your
brother, he's my big brother, he's still hurting so much, and he's not
here, and it's your fault!  Shari...!"
   Rick looked at me in bafflement, but I think I understood where Yaz was
right now; Rick and I, we'd been the architects of so much of Nicky's
misfortune, our father's puppets, who'd stood by and laughed while so much
evil happened right under our noses.  Right now, compared to him, we were
looking pretty shoddy and worthless.  He knew we'd done nothing to help our
mother, or tried in any way to save her, and he'd expected no less from us,
and so he'd taken the guilt for that failing on himself, because he loved
her and thought he'd failed her.  And yet, even though he believed nothing
had changed for us, he'd still tried to reach out, he'd even invoked his
beloved Barbara to watch over us, her two despicable sons.  This was why we
needed him back: he was the heart and conscience of our family, and Yaz had
seen that.
   Shari took a sobbing Yaz into the other room so she could compose
herself again, while Rick and I stared guiltily at each other; the same
thought uppermost in both our minds, I'm sure; if we'd received that letter
in time, would we have gone?  The answer that scuttled and scurried around
in my mind was "No".  Last summer I was still too busy being a morose prick
to have ever considered any kind of rapprochement with Nicky, and that was
the shameful truth that hurt the most.  That letter would have made no
difference to me.  Rick, of course, was nowhere to be found when that
letter was mailed, otherwise things might have been very different; his
change had already happened, but I had still been alone and sunk in
bitterness.
   Now, of course, with my newly-awakened conscience and Shari showing me
how to be a proper person, it would have been so different, but by the time
I found her (or she found me) it was already too late; he'd been and gone
again, and he'd left finally knowing once and for all that we truly were
what he'd always believed we were.  It was ironic, and not in an amusing
way, that the morning I had accepted that Shari was what I needed, the
morning I had apologised to Yaz for scaring and rejecting her, the morning
I had finally realised just what a complete fool I had been, the morning I
accepted that my family really was the most important thing in my life,
that was the morning Nicky and his family were there alone, placing flowers
on my mother's grave.
   Something clicked, and I picked up the letter, scanning quickly through
the first paragraph to what I'd heard.
   "Nicky has a daughter; he's got a wife and a baby daughter.  We have a
niece!" I stated in astonishment, Rick's eyebrows suddenly going up as he
took that in as well.
   Then Shari was standing at the doorway with Yaz, who flung herself on
Rick, burying her face in his neck as she hugged him tightly.
   "I'm sorry baby, so sorry, it wasn't just you, you didn't know any
better, it's just...I was so sad for him, he's one of us and he's still in
so much pain, he didn't do anything except try to help her, and yet he
feels so guilty, poor Nicky, there's still so much hurt and loss, and it's
not fair, it shouldn't be him, we have to find him and make it right with
him, promise me we will, Ricky, promise me!"
   Rick soothed her, nuzzling her neck as she cried for her lost brother.
   "I promise, baby, we'll find Nicky, and I swear, we'll make it right
with him; with him, and his wife, and his baby, our niece; do you remember
reading that?  We have a baby niece!"
   Shari came and took my arm.
   "I heard that bit, I was wondering when you'd pick up on it," she
smiled. "Under the circumstances, I think we need to ramp-up the search for
Nicky.  This letter came from Albany, which I know is the capital of New
York State, so he must live or work there or somewhere near there.  At
least now we have a location, it should make finding him a little easier. I
think we need to make finding him our priority; this property business can
wait; family comes first."
   *
   The following day, Rick and Shari went shopping, and Yaz took me into
town so I could buy something for Shari for Christmas.  It was a strange
experience for me; I'd never been Christmas shopping, so I'd never actually
been in one of the department stores at Christmas-time; I'd never had a
reason to, and I was almost overwhelmed by the colour, the glitter, the
decorations and displays, and the Christmas music playing everywhere.
   Yaz piloted me to the things she knew Shari would like, and helped me
pick out a suitable present for her, then turned her back while I bought
something for her as well, something to give my little sister on Christmas
Day, and then Yaz parked me with all the bags and boxes while she went off
to do a little shopping of her own.  I also managed to buy a couple of
other presents, then, laden down, we made our way home.  I was enthralled;
Christmas shopping made me feel, for the first time, that there was a
special time happening in the world and I was part of it.  Yaz made me stop
on the way home to have my picture taken at a coin-op Photo-booth.  When I
asked why she just replied, "Ask Shari..."
   Rick and Shari were also burdened down with bags and packages, and we
spent that evening in a frenzy of wrapping and labelling the things we'd
bought for each other, and stacking them under the tree.  Shari had also
stopped in at the post office and picked up passport application forms for
Rick and me, which was why they'd made us take our pictures, reminding me
that our priority was to find Nicky, and our starting point looked like
this "Albany" place in New York.
   Christmas Day was quiet but happy: we'd made a start on finding Nicky,
we were getting our passports straight so we could go find him, and we were
happy as a family as well as the couples we'd turned into.  Shari gave me a
warm jacket, fleecy gloves, and a handful of warm sweaters, plus some nice
dressy shirts, and Yaz gave me a digital camera, so I spent Christmas
morning making my beautiful sisters pose for me in their pyjamas while I
snapped away.  I'd bought Shari a new laptop with the very last of the
money I'd saved from that thankless job I'd had (plus some other gifts I
hoped she'd show me after bedtime!), and we'd all clubbed together and
given Yaz an iPad.  Shari and Yaz had given Rick warm clothing, boots,
shirts, and underwear.  The sight of Rick in his sleep sweats with a pair
of silk Mickey Mouse boxers pulled on over the top was something to behold,
although it's an image I'm trying to forget...
   I think the present that meant the most to us, though, was one that
Shari gave to Rick and me.  She'd taken an 8x10 portrait photograph of
Barbara from one of the albums and had it framed for us; it was a picture
of her that must have been taken before all the bad things started to
happen.  She looked so young and happy, her eyes smiling as well as her
lips, her light-brown hair and grey eyes shimmering in the light and her
silver filigree charm bracelet on her wrist.  I'd forgotten about that
bracelet, and seeing it in the picture brought back a fleeting quasi-memory
of seeing it glitter in the sunlight.  I briefly wondered where it had
gone; it wasn't on the list of things removed from the house, and it wasn't
in among her things in the attic.
   Rick and I stared for long moments at our mother, really seeing her for
the first time, her beautiful face young and carefree, not beaten-down,
cowed and afraid, her smile fresh and radiant, before I took it and placed
it on the mantelpiece, where we could see her properly.
   Rick and Yaz had volunteered to make Christmas lunch, so I stretched out
on the couch in front of the fire with Shari on top of me, watching
Christmas TV while roast turkey and all the trimmings happened elsewhere.
Shari was grazing on my neck when she happened to look under the tree and
noticed there was still a handful of unopened presents.  I saw where she
was looking, and her raised eyebrow.
   "I um, I...got something for Nicky, just a small gift, something with
his name on it just so we could...feel like he was here today, too..." I
whispered, blushing slightly at the admission.
   Shari smiled sadly, her eyes misting.
   "How strange baby, so did I, and I think Yaz and Ricky did as well. 
That was a nice thing you did Bobby.  Maybe somehow he'll know we're
thinking about him; who knows, maybe it'll call him back home.  I put
something under the tree for mummy too, just to let her know I'm thinking
of her, and a little something for Barbara from you and Ricky, I hope you
don't mind?"
   I hugged her close, smelling the fresh berry scent of her hair.
   "Of course I don't mind, I should have thought of it myself, a little
something to tell her I'm sorry and that I'll never forget her."
   Shari kissed my forehead, and wiped the tears from the corners of my
eyes.
   "I think she knows now, Bobby, and once we find Nicky and put our family
back together, it'll be over and she'll be able to rest, I'm sure."
   She tapped the tip of my nose and grinned happily.
   "Cheer up, now, baby, it's a happy day today.  You may not be aware, but
it's the most wonderful time of the year!"
   I didn't want the day to turn melancholy, not my first real Christmas,
so I kissed her to say thank you, and Shari kissed me back a bit more
seriously.  We spent the next few minutes making out, my hands roaming over
her, squeezing, fondling, touching, holding, while our lips and tongues
fenced and chased each other.  Shari broke off to look down at me, her eyes
wide, and beautiful, and very, very sexy.
   "Dinner won't be ready for at least two hours, Bobby, do you want to go
somewhere more comfortable?"
   I nodded, and she jumped off me and stuck her head in the kitchen,
telling the others not to disturb us.  With that done, she grabbed my hand
and towed me from the room, leading me upstairs and to our bedroom.  Once
there she began pulling my shirt out of my jeans, undoing buttons as I
squeezed her delectable little bum, pulling her against me so we could
grind against each other.  Shari grinned as she rubbed herself against me,
my hands sliding over her and into the back of her jeans to squeeze and
knead her taut little cheeks.
   "Turn around, Bobby, got a surprise for you!" she grinned, kissing the
base of my throat as she gave my crotch a quick squeeze.  "I think you'll
like this!"
   I turned around and closed my eyes, listening to the soft, subtle sounds
of cloth rustling as she got changed, my cock throbbing with anticipation
that it was one of the gifts I'd given her in private.
   "Ok, baby, you can turn around now!" she murmured, and so I did, my eyes
widening at the sight before me.  Gone were the jeans and tank top, and in
their place was a sheer black teddy of the briefest sort, a few wisps of
lace covering the strategic places, covering her while contriving to make
her look even more naked than if she'd just posed in the buff.  The outfit
was set-off perfectly with black, elbow-length fingerless lace gloves,
sheer black seamed-stockings with lace hold-up tops, and black stilettos,
making her long, slim legs look truly endless.  A black velvet choker set
with a large green stone around her creamy throat perfectly complimented
her sumptuous mahogany-red hair.
   "Do you like it, baby?" she smiled, doing a slow twirl, and I could only
nod in open-mouthed appreciation.
   "Well come here, then, baby, aren't you going to unwrap your present?"
she crooned, and I obliged, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat,
to hold her tightly as my lips crushed against hers, my hands roaming over
her all over again, holding and fondling this vision of beautiful young
womanhood!
   Shari broke our kiss to smile at me.
   "So you really like it then?  It took Yaz and me ages to find, but when
we did, she got a set just like this one too.  Ricky's in for a treat
tonight!  I'm so glad you like your present, baby, I wanted your first real
Christmas to be special!"
   "God, you look amazing!" was all I could say, "You look like the reason
the riot started!"
   Shari grinned impishly at the compliment.  Her nipples were suddenly
obvious, poking solidly through the material of her teddy, the darker
circles of her aureoles just visible through the sheer material, and I
began to think about how to get this magical garment off my girl; I wanted
to see her naked so badly right now, and so did my cock, judging by its
throbbing.
   Shari slid her hand down and squeezed my swollen cock.
   "I see Little Bobby likes his present too!" she grinned, giving me
another firm squeeze.
   "Less of the little, if you don't mind, you disrespectful girl!" I
grinned as I responded by lightly stroking my fingers over her barely-clad
pussy, making her jump and gasp.
   "So Bobby, what do you want to do now?" she purred.
   I answered her by pulling off my clothes as fast as I could, unbuttoning
and shoving down my jeans while Shari finished unbuttoning my shirt. 
Between us we got me down to my shorts in just a few seconds, and now I
could devote some care and attention to peeling my girl out of her
underwear, a skill Shari had been kind enough to teach me at some length
over the last few weeks.
   As I embraced her, my hands explored the back of that teddy, finding the
single hook and eye that kept it all in place.  While we kissed, I unhooked
it, peeling it down from her shoulders and pushing it around her waist. 
Shari stopped kissing me to smile and give a quick shimmy, and the lacy
confection dropped to the floor, leaving her clad in just stockings,
gloves, and choker.
   That did it for me.  With a low growl of lust I pulled her close, my
hands sliding down to cup and squeeze her lovely, tight little bottom, her
mound rubbing against my now solidly erect cock.
   Shari hooked her fingers in the waistband of my shorts and pulled them
down; I got the message and pulled them off the rest of the way.
   "That's better, baby!" she grinned, kissing me while she wrapped her
hand around my cock and began a slow pumping motion in time to the motions
of our tongues as we kissed deeply.  Shari edged me backwards as we kissed,
until the back of my legs met the bed frame, so I sat down, with her
sitting astride me, her lips still glued to mine.  My hands were still
clamped to her lovely bum, and I began slowly pulling those delectable
cheeks apart and squeezing them together again, making her gasp into my
mouth each time I did it; I knew she liked it, so I kept doing it, feeling
her kisses becoming sharper as her arousal climbed the longer we played and
fondled each other.
   By unspoken agreement we stopped, Shari breaking our kiss to smile
gently as she rose up, and slowly impaled herself on my aching cock, head
back and eyes closed as she slid onto me with a long hiss of satisfaction.
When she was all the way on me, she leaned down and peppered my face with
soft little kisses, then straightened up and began to rock back and forth,
grinding herself against me as she rose and fell.  I could hardly bear it.
The feel of her tight pussy squeezing me as she fucked me was out of this
world.  With the sound of her little cries as she stimulated herself, and
the feel of her soft lips when she leaned down and kissed me, I was in a
state of almost total sensory overload.  That never stopped me kissing her
smooth creamy neck and shoulders, though, or nuzzling between her breasts
as she rose and fell on me.  Her nipples were like bullets now, stiff and
solid, and when she leaned back against my encircling arms, I was able to
dip down and suck and lick those delightful, stiff little nubs, making her
groan and quicken her pace.
   When she came, it was like an electric shock convulsing her; her body
stiffened, her hands holding my head immobile against her, her body
trembling as her pussy clamped down on me, preventing me from pulling out;
not that I was going to.  The feel of her tightening around me was all it
took for my own climax to gather and batter its way through me, and I came
in a welter of sperm, jet after jet pulsing into her as her pussy
convulsively sucked and squeezed at me, milking me of every drop.
   As I finished pumping into her, Shari began to come down, slumping
against me to hold me close, our hearts hammering together in the aftermath
of our mutual storm.  I flopped backwards onto the bed, Shari lying on my
chest as I gasped for breath; making love to my girl was always a
breath-taking experience, in more ways than one!
   As we lay in our sweat, my softening cock slipping from her, Shari
raised her head to look into my eyes, grinning as she spoke.
   "So baby, how did you like your first Christmas?"
   For answer I slid my hands around her taut little backside and pulled
her close against me.
   "Thank you for making it so special for me!" I grinned, kissing her on
the tip of her nose as my hands roamed over her, squeezing and stroking
her, making her alternately gasp and giggle.
   "Stop it, Bobby, I need a quick snooze after that, no, stop it!"
   I grinned, and gave up on gently torturing her, Shari smiling back as
she snuggled down against me.
   "Wake me up in half an hour, okay, Bobby?  Please?  Don't let me sleep
Christmas Day away!"
   "To hear is to obey, your wish is my command!" I whispered, pulling her
closer and flipping a corner of the bed covers over her.
   "My Bobby, love you baby!" she murmured drowsily.
   I wasn't in the least bit sleepy, just very relaxed, but I reset the
alarm clock, just in case, and turned my attention to looking at my
beautiful half-sister.
   I was still a little puzzled at what exactly she saw in me, although
eternally grateful she saw enough to stick around and do these kinds of
things with me!  No, I guess I still felt a little undeserving of her, my
overwhelming sense of entitlement having finally way to perhaps just a hint
of an inferiority complex.  Yaz and Shari had never tried to hold my lack
of experience of the real world over me, nor had they ever once been
pitying or "understanding"; that would have been just as galling.  No,
they'd just showed me stuff, told me things, and left me to form my own
conclusions about how the world worked.
   Both my sisters believed I was an adult, and left me to it.  It was
working, although some things I saw or read about just made no sense,
because I'd never been a part of the life around me.  I had no friends, nor
did I actually know how to make any.  Conversation was another closed book;
I could talk to Rick, Yaz or Shari, because I knew them, but I had no clue
how to make that initial approach to someone new, to say "Hello, what's
your name, my name's Bobby".  I think that was what made Shari saddest,
that our father had handicapped us so thoroughly, making social pygmies of
us by keeping us apart from the world, probably so we'd feel no connection
to it when it came time to take over from him.  Rick had managed to break
that programming.  I was still working my way through it, but with Shari's
help, I believed I was making some headway.
   Thinking heavy thoughts like this, I must have dozed-off; the next thing
I knew, the alarm was buzzing and Shari was lovely and warm and soft next
to me, yawning prettily as she stretched.  I was tempted to set the alarm
for another 30 minutes and huddle down next to her; she was just so nice to
cuddle up against on a deep mid-winter's afternoon, and lunch was going to
be at least another hour, so we could do this.  I leaned over to reset the
alarm, and Shari pushed it out of reach.
   "Uh-uh, sleepyhead, Yaz and Ricky are working hard to make your first
real Christmas special, don't mess with that!  Tell you what, though; I
need a shower, you're welcome to do my back if you want...?"
   How could I resist...
   Christmas lunch was superb.  I'd never actually eaten turkey before; our
father had never bought one, preferring much cheaper foodstuffs for us;
we'd never celebrated Christmas, so I'd only ever seen a Christmas dinner
in pictures, and my first one was almost overwhelming.  Yaz and Rick had
really gone all out to make our first Christmas as memorable as possible,
and I was dazzled by all the different things there were to eat and enjoy.
   Afterwards, we cleaned-up and retired to the family room to spend
Christmas Day together, at the request of Yaz, who'd always treasured the
time spent on this day with her mother and sister, and lately, Rick, too.
We sat around discussing the things we'd do, with Nicky top of the agenda.
It didn't seem incongruous discussing him on this day of all days; Yaz and
Shari seemed to have developed a real need to talk about their missing
brother, where he was, what he was doing, his family now, what they were
like, and how they'd feel if we suddenly turned-up looking for him.
   The consensus was that he'd be shocked, but that he'd accept us, all of
us.  The letter, more than anything else, had convinced the girls that
Nicky would be, if not pleased, at the very least intrigued to find out
what had happened, and to meet his baby sisters.  The day after December
26th, Rick and I were going to see a solicitor to get our passport
applications notarised, then Shari and I were driving down to the Passport
Office in Liverpool, and once we got our passports, we'd be sending them
via courier to the American Embassy in London, to get our visas.  Once that
was done, we were going to Albany, to find our brother.
   We had no choice but to go; Shari had drawn a blank with locating an
agency of any sort that was actually interested in tracing our missing
brother; virtually all the PI's she'd found were only interested in doing
background and security checks for corporate clients: they had no time or
patience for our kind of search.  Similarly, a trawl of the internet had
proven equally fruitless.  No-one by the name of Nicholas Davies was
popping up, at least none of the right age, occupation, or ethnicity.  As
Shari had finally confessed to me one night, we couldn't be sure he was
even using the Davies surname; what if he was so filled with disgust and
hatred for us and all we stood for that he'd dropped the name entirely? 
What if he was using his mother's maiden name?  We didn't know what that
was, so that put an end to our internet search.
   Finally we agreed on one thing; the only way we'd ever find him was if
we looked for him ourselves.  We would have to go to Albany, visit every
garage and car repair shop, show them his picture, and ask the question;
does this man work here?
   *
   And now, all the preparations were over, and here I was, on a cold,
late-January day, cooling my heels in the departure lounge at Birmingham
International Airport, waiting for our flight to Albany.  The girls were
excited, but I don't mind admitting, I was scared.  It didn't seem possible
that the huge jet clearly visible through the panoramic windows of the
Departures Lounge could actually get airborne, no matter how many times I'd
seen it on TV; up close it just didn't seem credible that such a huge mass
of metal could even move at all, let alone leave the ground and fly, and
the thought of being inside that thing worried me to the point where I was
actually sweating.  Shari noticed I wasn't talking or joining in the
conversation, and pulled me to one side.
   "What's wrong, baby?" she murmured, then her eyes followed my gaze to
the monster jet just outside.
   "Oh, flight jitters.  Don't worry, Bobby, I've been in one of those
before; there's nothing to worry about, I promise!  I'll even hold your
hand, if you like...!"
   I looked down at her cheeky grin, and I couldn't help but grin back; her
calm confidence more than anything else helped me to level-off a little. 
Both Shari and Yaz were wearing stretch jeans and stiletto-heeled ankle
boots, and smart, military-cut box-jackets complete with epaulettes, and
Balmain T-shirts underneath.  They'd elected to travel with their fabulous
long bronze hair unbound.  With their beautiful features and sexy figures,
they looked elegant and truly stunning; it was really no wonder more than
one pair of eyes followed them around the lounge as we waited to board our
flight.  Watching the two of them helped to take my mind off things, but
eventually I'd return to brooding about getting into that monster and
hurtling down the runway at 300mph.
   Just when I thought I'd go mad from the waiting, they called our flight.
We lined up and filed down the boarding ramp and into the plane.  We had
adjoining seats, a block of four, so we didn't have to worry about
strangers clambering over us or falling asleep, drooling, or getting sick
on us.  It was a long-ish flight, over eight hours, so I'd brought a book
along in case I couldn't sleep; fat chance; I was so keyed-up that sleep or
reading were the furthest things from my mind.
   When the engines began gunning as the plane lined up on the runway, I
heard Shari gasp.  I looked at her, her face was twisted in pain, and I
realised I was squeezing her hand so tightly it was hurting her.  I
apologised with my eyes; Shari grinned and patted me gently to show she
understood, then Yaz, seated on the other side of me, slipped her arm
through mine as well.
   "Don't worry, baby, I've got you too!" she grinned cheekily, her touch
and warm humour relaxing me slightly.  Now I had two gorgeous, exotic
redheads huddled up against me, holding my hands and resting their heads on
my shoulders; no wonder I was getting envious, resentful stares from some
of the other passengers!  I jumped when a dull thud sounded underneath us.
I glanced questioningly at Shari, and she just smiled back.
   "It's okay, Bobby, it's just the undercarriage coming up, no need to
worry; we're on our way, Baby, and relax, please, it's safer than crossing
the street, I promise you!"
   *
   We had an uneventful flight, the only jarring note being when we came in
to land, as I once again nearly crushed Shari's hand as I waited for the
crash!  Once we collected our baggage and cleared customs, we followed the
signs for the exits and taxis.  A man in a peaked cap asked us if we wanted
a cab, and when we nodded, he beckoned over a bright yellow MPV-type
vehicle with a modern black chequer-pattern on the sides.  Rick handed him
$5, and he smiled as he opened the cab door and saluted us in.
   "Where to, please?" asked the cabbie.
   "The Ramada Plaza Hotel, please," replied Shari, leaning across me as
she peered out of the window at the freeway rolling past, getting her first
look at Albany.
   The hotel was only a couple of miles from the airport, and I helped the
hotel concierge team unload and separate our luggage while Rick paid and
tipped the cabbie.  Then we followed the luggage trolley up to our rooms.
Rick and Yaz had the suite next to ours, with an interconnecting door.  Our
room was the largest, most luxurious room I'd ever seen, with an absolutely
enormous bed, a gigantic flat-screen television, and a luxurious bathroom
with a bathtub you could have swum laps in.  Shari sat on the edge of the
bed, then flopped back and stretched-out, smiling tiredly at the ceiling.
   "Baby, come here a second!" she called, and I left my study of the
Albany skyline to hike all the way across that vast room and join her
stretched out on that huge bed, our feet on the ground as we stared up at
the ceiling.
   "Okay, Bobby, now we're here, phase one is done; now we move on to phase
two.  In about an hour, there's a Private Investigator coming to see us; I
spoke with him yesterday, and what we're asking is not what they normally
do, apparently none of them do, but I waved money at him, and I guess he
couldn't resist it.  Anyway, he's agreed to assist us, so we'll need to
have every scrap of information you and Ricky can dredge up.  After that,
maybe we should get some dinner, or just get Room Service; I don't know
about you, baby, but I'm absolutely buggered!  My watch says it's 7pm, my
body clock says it's after midnight, and we've had an eight-hour flight; I
really, really need some sleep, so please keep me awake during this
meeting."
   I scrambled further up the bed and Shari wearily clambered after me,
sliding up against me and slipping her hand inside my shirt and around my
waist.
   "Mmm, nice and warm!  Wake me up in a little while, baby, I just want a
quick snooze, ok?"
   I brushed her forehead with my lips, but she was already asleep, so I
lay back and looked around in wonder; I was actually in a foreign country,
in a luxurious hotel room with a beautiful girl.  Six months ago the very
thought of it would have been dismissed as an impossible fantasy, but it
was real, I was really here, and so was the girl!  There was no way I was
going to fall asleep; I was too keyed-up.  Prior to making the preparations
for this trip, I'd never been outside Carlisle, so this was an entirely new
experience for me, and I intended to savour every nuance of it.
   I was going over the events of the last few weeks in my mind when there
was a light tapping at the connecting door between the two suites.  Gently
disengaging Shari from me, I went over and opened the door.  Yaz was
standing there, wearing that brief robe she was so fond of.  She nodded
over at Shari, who was fast asleep again.
   "Bobby, that bloke from the detective agency or whatever they call
themselves over here is going to be here in about twenty minutes, you'd
better wake her up and get her in the shower quickly, otherwise she's
liable to fall asleep during this meeting.  Actually," she grinned at me
and held her nose, "you could do with one as well!"
   I turned her around and swatted her bottom, Yaz giggling and stumbling
back into her suite, where I could see Rick stretched out on the bed, as
flaked-out as Shari.
   "You cheeky little bugger, show some respect for your elders!" I called
after her, and ducked as she chucked a cushion at me and jumped giggling
onto her bed, jarring Ricky awake.
   "Okay Bobby, I know, I heard!" came Shari's voice, still blurred with
sleep.  I decided that after this meeting, we'd have a light meal sent up,
and we'd all get some rest.  Shari was right, it may have been early
evening in Albany, but our bodies thought it was after midnight, and we'd
had a long, heavy day.
   Shari sat up and wearily began stripping off her jacket and boots.  I
moved in and helped her, Shari flopping back on the bed with a sigh as I
tugged her boots off, then unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off, with
her lifting her bottom to allow me to pull the tight jeans all the way off.
I held out my hand and she took it, hauling herself upright.  I looked at
her and shook my head; she was exhausted.  Maybe planning a meeting fresh
off the 'plane hadn't been such a smart move, and I think she was probably
thinking that too; but it was too late now; the Private Investigator was
due in less than half an hour, so she needed to be fully awake and aware.
   Once she'd stripped off, I led her to the shower.  She was almost
stumbling with weariness, so I quickly shed my clothes and pulled her into
the wet-room, turning all the spray-heads on at once, so she was hit from
all angles by the hot needle jets.
   "Oooh, yess, that feels so good!" she drawled, leaning against the wall
and then sliding down into the alcove seat as the spray pummelled her, her
eyes closing as she once again began to slip back into sleep.  This was not
what I intended, so, after a few second's deliberation, and somewhat
reluctantly, I hit the temperature regulator, turning all the spray heads
to 'Cold'.
   Shari shrieked as the frigid water woke her up in a hurry, galvanising
her back to her feet as she gasped, trying to find the shower control
panel. I wasn't as affected as she was; remember, for the past few years
all I'd ever had was cold showers, but I think this was the first time
she'd ever had one.
   "BOBBY!  TURN THE FUCKING HEAT BACK ON!" she screamed at me, shivering
as she groped for the control panel, which I just happened to be leaning
against.
   "Are you awake now, baby?" I asked her, to get her small fist in my
chest as she thumped me.
   "YES, YES, YES I AM, NOW FUCKING TURN IT OFF!" she yelled, so I did,
then grabbed a gigantic soft towel off the rail and wrapped it around her.
She glared at me, her beautiful grey eyes furious at what I'd done.
   "DON'T touch me, you pig!" she snarled, wrapping the towel around
herself as she shivered, so I ignored her and briskly rubbed her down,
helping to get her circulation going again.
   "So, are you awake enough for this meeting, or do you want another
dose?" I asked her as I rubbed and massaged her, enjoying myself immensely.
Her eyes narrowed.
   "If you ever do that again, I swear, I'll slap you so hard our
grandchildren will feel it!" she hissed, but still wriggled against me as I
rubbed her down.
   "So we are having grandchildren, then?" I enquired innocently, then
gasped as she reached down and pinched my cock, hard.
   "Yes, but don't push it, buster, I haven't forgiven you for what you did
in there!" she grated, her fingers still applying pressure to my most
delicate bits.
   "Okay, truce, you can have a go at me later, right now we have a meeting
in..." I looked at the wall-clock "...fifteen minutes, so can we get a move
on?"
   She relaxed her grip, letting me breathe a sigh of relief.
   "Okay Bobby, but you owe me!" she whispered, giving Bobby Jr.  a
meaningful shake before letting go.  Five minutes later I was dried-off and
dressed, wearing jeans and a pullover shirt.  Shari had on just a simple
shift dress, something I'd never seen her wear before, noticing all over
again just how spectacular her long creamy legs were; she always wore jeans
or leggings, so I almost never got to see her legs during the day, and I
made a note to myself to make it happen more often; her pins were far too
good to be hidden away like that!
   Ten minutes to blow-dry and brush her fabulous hair, and we were ready
to meet this P.I.  character.  We'd already asked the Front Desk to ask him
to come up to the room, so all we had to do was wait.  The connecting door
opened, and Yaz and Rick joined us.  I was intrigued to see that Yaz was
wearing the same pattern dress as Shari; obviously the similarities between
the two of them were more than just skin-deep.  We were making small talk,
Yaz looking pityingly at me when Shari told her what I'd done to wake her
up, when there was a knock at the door.  Shari tensed slightly, so I patted
her hand as she twined her fingers in mine for a second, then I got up to
answer the door.
   The caller was an attractive young woman, in maybe her late twenties,
wearing a subdued, but very smart business suit, and an elegant white
blouse open at the neck, her dark hair in a modern but unfussy style, and
carrying a black briefcase.  She looked for all the world like any young
executive one might pass on the street: smart, professional, completely
unremarkable, and totally anonymous.
   "Miss Shahida..?" she enquired, holding out her hand as Shari came
forward.
   "That's me.  I was expecting Mr.  Krall...?"
   The young woman smiled.
   "I am his associate; my name is Melanie; Mr.  Krall prefers to work
unobtrusively, so my function is to meet clients, assess the level of
information they require, go through the scale of fees, and explain our
processes and procedures.  I have been given to understand that because
this is outside our normal type of enquiry service, a more...personal scale
of fees has been agreed, tailored to the needs of this enquiry.  I assume
there are no legal attachments or impediments to this enquiry?"
   Shari smiled back, then sobered.
   "No, no legal issues.  All we want to do is find our brother; he's been
missing for almost four years now, but we think he may be somewhere in this
area.  We'd like you to find him; that's all.  I discussed and agreed the
fees and conditions with Mr.  Krall when I made the original enquiry, so if
you would like me to sign an agreement engaging your firm's professional
services, I am prepared to do that right now."
   Melanie seated herself at my invitation, and took a sheaf of papers from
her briefcase, various contracts and agreements, which Yaz read through
quickly, and nodded.  Shari signed in duplicate and once Melanie had
checked all was in order, she handed one set to Shari and smiled
professionally.
   "I understand that you have some information that might be of
assistance. If possible, we need a recent photograph of the subject, plus
any other personal information that might be of relevance in tracing the
subject."
   I went to my case and pulled out the folder we'd assembled, containing
the most recent photographs we had of Nicky, a copy of his college
certificate that Rick had found in with Barbara's things, and a copy of
that letter.
   We spent the next hour going over everything we knew or surmised about
Nicky: the kind of job we thought he'd be doing, most likely a motor
mechanic, given that he'd only ever wanted to be one, his height, and any
identifying marks; this meant telling her about what our father had done to
him, and that he may well have been extensively scarred.
Melanie made copious notes, asked some sharp, insightful questions about
our relationship with him, and asked us how we wanted to approach him if
and when the agency located him.  We decided Yaz and Shari should make the
initial contact.  Nicky would have no reason to balk at them, as he'd never
met them.
   Once Melanie left, having left a cell phone keyed to the agency number,
in case we needed to contact them or came into possession of any further
information, we ordered room service, ate a light meal, and collapsed
exhausted into bed.  There was no wild thing that night; I was exhausted,
both physically and emotionally, as was Shari, and I knew Yaz and Rick were
dragging as well, so our first night in America we slept the sleep of the
truly exhausted.
   I woke to bright sunshine pouring into the room, rolled-up in the warm
bedclothes with Shari spooned up tight against me, and my arm around her. I
looked around the unfamiliar room in slight confusion before memory
reasserted itself, reminding me where I was; I was in America, actually in
America, how bloody amazing was that!
   I stretched as unobtrusively as possible, trying not to disturb Shari,
but that little movement was enough to wake her.  I saw her eyes flutter
open, then her beautiful coral lips curved in a smile as she too stretched.
   "Good morning baby!" she whispered, and burrowed down even further
against me.
   "Mmm!  You're lovely and warm; don't move for a while, please, this
feels so nice!" she murmured, her voice still blurred and scratchy with
sleep.  Of course I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer so I
could soak up some of the sleep-warmth radiating off her.
   I don't know how long we lay huddled together like that.  It was so nice
to just be warm and loving and quiet together.  I was just beginning to get
drowsy again, when there came a knock on the interconnecting door.
   "Come in, Yaz, it's open!" I called, and Yaz came in, followed by Rick.
   "Up guys, up, it's our first morning in America, I want to explore, but
first, I want to eat a real, genuine American breakfast!" grinned Yaz,
bouncing on the edge of the bed and shaking Shari and me around.
   "Wakey-wakey, hands off cocks, on with socks!" she sang, being
approximately 50% correct.  "Come on Sleepy and Dopey, I want breakfast!"
   "Who are you calling 'Sleepy'?" I retorted with a grin, getting a jab
from Shari's elbow when she realised what I'd left her.
   "If we're Sleepy and Dopey, what are you two then?" I grinned, and Yaz
smiled adorably as she perched on the end of the bed.
   "After the 'Welcome to America!' present I gave Yawning-Boy last night,
he'd bloody better be 'Happy'!" she giggled, and even Shari grinned at
that. I looked mock-disapprovingly at her.
   "You're a bad girl and a very bad influence, no wonder my mum said I
shouldn't play with you anymore!"
   Yaz stuck out her tongue and bounced some more, jumbling Shari and me
even further.
   "Come on, get up you pair of old farts, breakfast awaits, chop-chop!"
   I lunged over and grabbed her, making her squeal.
   "Old farts, eh?  Now you're going to pay!"
   Yaz is ticklish, especially her sides, so I poked my fingers in her
sides, making her squeal and giggle breathlessly as she squirmed.
   "No, no, no, no, Bobby, Bobby, please, no, no, please, Shari, make him
stop, no, no, please, Ricky help me...!"
   Shari looked at her coolly.
   "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I could have sworn you called us 'old
farts', in fact, I'm sure that's what you said, so no, I think I'll let
Bobby teach you a lesson.  Suffer, little sister!"
   I tortured her for a few more breathless seconds then let her go; she
immediately reared back and slapped me on the arm, then squealed as I
grabbed her again.
   "No, no, no Bobby, no, don't you dare, I'm sorry, Bobby, I'm sorry,
no...!" she gabbled as I threatened to tickle her again, so I hugged her
and let her go.  Rick gave her his hand and she slid over to him, slapping
him on the arm as well.
   "You could have helped me, you know...!" she grumbled.  Ricky grinned at
her expression.
   "Yaz, Yaz, darling, sweet, simple little Yaz, how many times must I tell
you; you messed with Big Ugly Bobby; when you mess with the bull, you get
the horns!"
   Yaz looked at him and snorted.
   "You are so full of shit!  Now you owe me a big 'Sorry' after breakfast.
Are you up for it...stud?"
   Rick coloured as Shari and I both tried without too much success to hide
our own snorts of laughter.  Eventually we stopped, Rick was now a deep
plum-colour, and Yaz was smirking happily.  Shari grinned and flapped her
hand at the pair of them.
   "Okay you two, out, I want to get a shower and get dressed.  We'll meet
you in your room in 10 minutes, order whatever you like for all of us, but
I only really want a coffee."
   Ten minutes later, we were sitting around the table staring in awe at
what an American breakfast looked like.
   "Bobby, what is it?  Where do we start?" whispered Yaz, unable to take
her eyes off the stacks of pancakes, tureens of scrambled eggs, mounds of
bacon and sausage patties, a stack of toast at least six inches high, a
huge jug of orange juice, a pair of coffee carafes in a double coffee
maker, and another trolley loaded with various cereals, jugs of milk, pats
of butter, and bottles of maple syrup.
   "Yaz, what did you order?" I asked, and she looked at me in round-eyed
wonder.
   "When I called down for breakfast, the girl asked what we wanted, I
didn't know whether they had any cereals or anything from England, so I
asked her for a typical American breakfast for four; this is what arrived!"
   Rick grinned at me and picked a plate up off the warmer, one eyebrow
raised as he surveyed the mountain of food.
   "Dash it all, Carruthers, we can't just stand here staring, I'm going
in...it's a far, far better thing I do now, I do this for Queen and
Country, etcetera, etcetera, tell mother my last words were of her...!"
   So saying, he piled his plate with pancakes, bacon and sausage, poured
maple syrup over it all, and dug in.  Yaz leaned over and tried a tentative
forkful, and her eyes lit up, so she grabbed a plate and started piling
food onto it, doing her best to catch up with him.  Shari shrugged at me,
slid some scrambled eggs onto two slices of hot buttered toast, and poured
herself a coffee.  I followed suit, although I couldn't resist the sausage
patties, which were delicious.
   Breakfast took about an hour, as we tried to work our way through that
mound of food, but in the end it defeated us.
   "Now that was what I call a breakfast!" declared Rick, leaning back
blissfully in his chair, his plate polished clean, and I had to agree; I
was stuffed.  I'd just put away enough cholesterol, saturated fats and
protein to founder a rugby team, to Shari's frank admiration, although I
had a strong feeling I'd be skipping lunch; another meal like that and I'd
explode...
   Once we'd recovered sufficiently, we began to think about our plans for
the day.  As we now appeared to have some free-time on our hands, Yaz
wanted to investigate the malls in town; the hotel had given us some
shopping guides, and Yaz and Shari were eager to do some serious
mall-raiding.  Rick and I wanted to explore Albany a little; this was the
only other city I'd ever been to in my life (eight hours in Liverpool
getting our passports didn't count).
   I was pretty sure one mall is much like another, no matter which part of
the world it's in, but Albany was bound to be different from Carlisle, and
I wanted to actually put my feet on a foreign city's pavements, to walk
down a street on the other side of the world.
   We compromised eventually; we'd all go to the places the hotel Concierge
recommended, the Colonie Center, and Crossgates, and once the girls found a
mall where they could let their urge to shop express itself freely, then
Rick and I were free to explore as much of Albany as we could find without
getting lost or into trouble.  That suited me fine; Shari was in the habit
of hauling me into women's clothing stores, and asking my opinion of
various frilly underthings, then disappearing to try them on, leaving me
stranded in the lingerie section like some weird fetishist, getting
strange, disgusted looks from the women pawing through the racks.  I wasn't
looking forward to that here; in England I just got odd looks from the shop
assistants; over here I'd probably get arrested!
   We took a cab to the first mall on our list, The Colonie Center, and
once we walked in, Shari looked around happily, taking in the store
directory in a kind of trance.
   "Oh yes, at last, I have found my true home, you should go, Bobby
darling, I might just be a while!" she beamed.  Yaz was in a similar,
blissed-out state, so Rick and I arranged a place and time to meet them,
and beat a retreat, clutching the maps of Albany the hotel had provided.
   Walking around the town centre was a unique experience; twice I nearly
got mown-down by on-coming traffic because I was looking the wrong way when
I crossed the street (we drive on the left in England, so traffic is
usually coming from the right, and I kept forgetting myself and looking
right as I stepped out; only Rick's reflexes saved me several times from
getting smeared, until I figured-out that the cross-walks were probably the
only way to cross the street safely).
   I was amazed at the width of the streets; back home, Carlisle is a
medieval city, or what's left of one, and like most English cities, the
street plan echoes the village streets and ancient cattle tracks they were
900 years ago; the grid pattern of the streets here fascinated me, it all
seemed so logical and well-ordered.
   Rick and I wandered through shops and a few small pedestrian precincts,
taking in the sights and sounds of a major American city (well, bigger than
Carlisle, anyway!) noting familiar names like McDonald's and Starbucks, and
just soaking up the atmosphere of somewhere so foreign and yet so familiar;
I'd seen American cities so often on TV that it all looked very familiar
indeed, but to be suddenly surrounded by that accent as well, for real, was
almost overwhelming.
   We'd just stepped out of a real, genuine doughnut shop, munching
something called 'bear-claws', when in the alley at the side we spotted a
young guy, probably my age, being worked over by three guys; he was giving
a fair account of himself, not just cowering and letting them beat him, but
there was only going to be one outcome.  I was just deciding that it was
none of our business when suddenly it was.
   I heard Rick bark "Help him!" as he brushed past me, and as one of the
three looked around in surprise, Rick punched him on the side of the head,
sending him sprawling.
   Now I had no choice; a second one rounded on me, so I belted him as hard
as I could, the first time I'd ever hit another human being, and watched in
gratified surprise as he folded without a sound.  The guy who had been
taking the beating grabbed the third one and spun him round, smacking him
face first into the wall, hard; I heard the crunch of bone and saw blood
spurt from his flattened nose.  From the boneless way he slumped forward I
could see that he'd lost all interest in the proceedings.
   "Are you okay?" I heard Rick ask the guy whose party we'd gate-crashed,
and he grinned back at us happily, even though he had an abraded cheek and
a split lip.
   "Never felt better!  I'm sure glad you fellers decided to step in; I
thought I had them there for a while, but...!"
   I had to grin at his breezy confidence, as did Rick.
   "What was that about, anyway?" I asked, looking curiously at the quite
well-dressed trio we'd just disposed of, and he grinned.
   "That guy over there's in college with my girl; he wouldn't leave her
alone, I kicked his ass, so he and his friends were returning the favor,
then you guys jumped in, so thanks, guys, I owe you one!"
   One of the assailants was stirring and the guy we'd rescued walked over,
lifted him by his hair, and jabbed him smartly in the jaw, watching his
eyes roll up as he passed out again.
   "Goodnight, John-Boy!" he grinned, patting him on the cheek, then stood
up and stuck his hand out.
   "Hi, my name's Leon, Leon Shoemaker, thanks for jumping in when you did,
my girl's gonna be real pleased you were here today!"
   Rick and I introduced ourselves, and he cocked his head at our accents.
   "English, hey?  So's my boss, that's why I recognized your accents.  Can
I buy you guys a drink, or maybe a coffee?  It's the least I can do to
thank you for saving my ass!"
   We nodded, so Leon dusted himself off, ran his fingers through his dark
golden hair and walked with us out of the alley and into a coffee shop. 
Over a Skinny Latte he told us about himself; he was Lead Mechanic in a
specialist auto shop, working on classic and performance British cars.  He
had a few days vacation coming, was going home for a few days, and had come
downtown to buy a gift for his mother, who lived in a nearby town, Oneonta;
he'd stopped-off to get a coffee, then he got jumped, and then we happened
along.
   We got talking about our respective work; we told him we had just
started a property renovation business in the North of England, and he told
us about his job here in Albany.
   "I tell you, my boss knows every Brit sports car that was ever made;
he's like a genius, any one of us comes up against some dumb, stupid fault
that makes no sense, he'll get in there, re-route a cable and tighten a
bolt, and she's running sweet as can be; he says it's because low-volume
Brit sports cars were built by loonies, sorry, 'eccentrics', so you gotta
think like one, and sometimes the only cure is to take out the ashtray, tap
it twice on the dash, and put it back in again; he doesn't know why that
works, but you know what?  It usually does, and it's fucking weird...!"
   Rick and I laughed out loud at his description of our proud motoring
heritage, and I decided I liked him; the girls would like him, too, so I
invited him to have dinner with us that night, and to bring his girl, so
she could see not everything from Britain was skewed off-centre!
   We chatted for a while, telling each other a little about ourselves,
about our girls, about our impressions of Albany so far, and finally parted
with a promise to meet again at the hotel at 7 o'clock, and we'd take it
from there.  With that, Leon headed back to his car, while Rick and I
retraced our steps until we found The Colonie Center.  On the way there I
asked Rick what had prompted him to jump into the fight, and he looked
strangely at me.
   "Because you told me to, Bobby, why do you think?  You shouted 'Help
him!' so I did!"
   I looked at him in puzzlement.  I remembered it differently, I
remembered Rick shouting 'help him!', I distinctly heard him say it, and I
told him just that, but Rick was adamant that it was my idea to jump in,
when I knew damned well it wasn't me.  I was feeling unsettled about the
whole incident until I saw the girls, weighed-down with bags and packages,
and looking shopped-out and very pleased with themselves, so I put it out
of my mind; now was not the time to tell Shari about getting into a fight,
knowing as I did how sensitive she was about violence of any kind.
   Shari jumped up and hugged me, eager to show me what she'd bought me,
shirts, cufflinks, belts, that kind of thing, and a bag from somewhere
called "Victoria's Secret", which sounded familiar.
   "That's for a special occasion, Bobby, just for you!" she grinned,
possibly the dirtiest grin I'd ever seen, and now the combination of that
grin and her pressed against me was making all sorts of nice things happen
lower down.
   "Down, boy, we have all evening, pace yourself!" she grinned,
surreptitiously tweaking the end of my cock, making me gasp and grin.  Yaz
had a similar bag, so I assumed Rick had just got the same message from
her, to judge by the goofy grin and slightly glazed expression on his face.
I hailed a cab to take us back to the hotel, and while we were loading the
mountain of bags and boxes into the cab, we told her about our little
adventure, Shari clucking when I told her I'd hit someone, but telling Rick
and me she was glad we'd helped someone who'd needed a hand.  Both girls
seemed eager to meet our new friend at dinner that night.
   Once back at the hotel, Shari made dinner reservations at a Malaysian
restaurant recommended by the hotel, Yono's on Chapel Street, then closed
and locked the interconnecting door between the two suites, and grinned at
me.
   "We have reservations for 7.30, that's over two hours away, we're in
America, Americans are big on contact sports, so do you want to tackle me a
little, baby?"
   I needed no further encouragement, not after that little display in the
Colonie Center, almost breaking the world record for getting out of my
clothes.  Shari smiled mischievously and dropped her jacket on the ground
behind her and kicked off her shoes as she advanced on me.
   "I think you need to help me, Bobby, I can't remember how to get this
thing off!" she pouted, pointing at her blouse, so I obliged, kissing her
neck every time I popped a button, until it was completely undone, her two
small, perfect little breasts cradled in her lacy white bra.  She shrugged
the blouse off her shoulders, giving me something more to kiss as I popped
the fastening on her jeans and hooked my fingers in the waistband, pushing
them down.
   "Thank you baby!" she breathed, that grin on her face again.  "I
couldn't figure out how to get those off either; you're so multi-talented,
Bobby, I think I'll keep you!"
   That earned her a pinch on her tight little bottom, making her squeal
and jump; lucky thing I was there to catch her!
   Now she was down to her bra and panties, and as she unsnapped her bra
and slid her panties down I got to see once again for myself just what a
beautiful girl she was; long, lithe, endless legs, slim, shapely hips and
buttocks flaring out from her tiny waist, high, proud little breasts with
delicious dark coral nipples, the whole package beautifully set-off by her
faintly golden-tinged ivory skin, pale, creamy and exotic.  Add to that the
face of an angel, and you could see why I stopped dead to just drink her
all in, enthralled by her beauty, and once again wondering how a girl like
that could even have time for me, let alone love me the way she did.
   Shari snapped her fingers, jolting me out of my reverie.
   "Up here, Bobby, my face is up here!  What are you staring at baby?" she
murmured, and I grinned at her.
   "I was just thinking you're not too shabby yourself; I could see myself
hanging on to you a while longer!"
   She smiled as she closed the distance between us and poked me lightly in
the chest.
   "There are so many ways you are going to pay for that, mister, and don't
think I've forgotten about last night either!"
   With that, she pushed me backwards, and as I fell backwards onto the
bed, she landed on top of me.
   "Gotcha, now do things to me, baby, you owe me!" she growled, nipping my
chin and kissing my throat as her hands squeezed her favourite part of me.
She didn't need to worry about that; from the second I'd pulled her jeans
down I'd been solidly erect, my cock almost supernaturally hard as I
contemplated my girl, and she knew it.  There was one thing I wanted to do
before all else; I wanted to taste her again, I wanted to kiss and lap her
pussy and lick up her sweet juices and immerse myself in her tangy
sweetness.  Shari saw it in my eyes, and grinned, biting her lip as she
slid herself up my torso until her knees were either side of my head, and
her beautifully bare little pussy-slit was right above my mouth.  As she
leaned forward to rest her hands on the wall above the bed-head, I clamped
hold of her taut little bum-cheeks and pulled her against my mouth.
   She groaned softly as I flattened my tongue and licked her from her
tight, sweet little anus to the hood of her stiff clitoris, shuddering as I
did it again, and again, while I revelled in the taste and rich, spicy
scent of her, enjoying the feeling as her labia swelled warmly against my
lips and tongue.  She began to rock above me, pushing her pussy more and
more insistently against my mouth as I pulled her ever tighter against me,
my tongue parting her lips and exploring the warmth behind them, gasping as
I penetrated her with my tongue, pushing her labia apart to invade her most
private inner recesses.
   "Yess, Bobby, oh yesss, like that, oh yess!" she murmured as she ground
her pussy against my lips and tongue while my tongue darted and rubbed
inside her, then began licking her hard little clitoris, her tangy sweet
juices pouring into my mouth as her arousal began to peak.  There was
something I wanted to try, and as she ground and gasped and trembled above
me, I held on to her silky thighs to pull her tight against my mouth as I
pointed my tongue, and pushed the tip into her tight little rosebud as hard
as I could.
   Shari screamed as she came, a flood of her sweet perfumed juices pouring
over my mouth and chin as she whined and shuddered above me.  I continued
to rim her, enjoying the feeling of her bum cheeks flexing and bobbing in
my hands as she rode out her orgasm, the taste of her as she peaked
changing from tangy sweet to an earthier, more arousing tang.
   I held her above me as long as I could, enjoying the feel of her pussy
trembling and fluttering against my lips as her orgasm rocketed around her
system, until eventually she sighed and slumped down, leaning on the wall
as she rested her damp forehead against the cool paintwork.  I helped her
climb off me and slide down next to me, where she took my chin and gently
pulled my face around so she could look into my eyes.
   "Bobby, that was...incredible, where did that come from, I never showed
you that!" she murmured, smiling gently.
   I grinned at her, enjoying the look and feel of her, she was my girl and
I satisfied her, fucking A!  She quirked an eyebrow at me, so I answered
her question.
   "It seemed like a good idea, I thought I'd try it and see what happens,
why, did you like it?"
   She grinned and thumped me lightly on the chest.  "It was wonderful
baby, and you know it!  Next time you have an idea like that, go for it! 
Now it's your turn!"
   I don't really feel too stimulated by oral sex, it's nice, and I do like
it, but having my cock sucked didn't really do it for me most of the time.
I much preferred to make love to my girl, not lie there and try and think
sexy thoughts; when it comes to oral sex, I'd rather give than receive, so
when she made as if to go down on me, I pulled her back up to me and
clamped my lips on hers as I squeezed her lovely squeezable bum.
   Shari smiled against my lips and reached down to give me a quick
squeeze, then sighed as I positioned myself and slowly slid into her tight
wetness.  Shari wrapped her arms about my neck and pulled me closer,
kissing me more seriously as I began to pump my cock into her, enjoying
immensely the feel of her pushing back against me as I pushed into her.  It
didn't take long for me to get to that place.  Shari was almost there
again, her breathing rapid and her face flushed as she jammed herself
against me in counterpoint to my thrusts into her.
   I felt my balls tighten, and that familiar tingle in the tops of my
thighs, the pit of my belly, and behind the root of my cock.  Shari too was
on her last strokes, her movements against me almost frenzied as we moved
together, until:
   "Oh God, yesss, oh Bobby, yess, oh yess!" she moaned, her pussy clamping
down around me as she came, the sensation finally pushing me over the edge,
and I swear I felt my cock swell as long, thrilling, satisfying pulses of
spunk shot out of me and deep into my beautiful sister, the girl I loved!
On and on we rolled, the convulsive squeezing of her pussy milking more and
more out of me, and the feel of me shooting deep into her feeding her own
orgasm.
   At last we were done.  I slumped down beside her, breathless, my heart
hammering with the exertion, Shari in no better state.  We lay quiet and
motionless as we slowly calmed down, breathing and heart-rates slowly
returning to normal, the fatigue of our recent exertions slowly ebbing
away. Shari finally turned to me and kissed me gently, lovingly, on the
lips.
   "That was lovely, Bobby, one day, make babies with me like that, okay?"
   I nodded, grinning foolishly at the thought of having a baby with this
beautiful girl, sister or not!
   Shari hadn't finished, though.  I could see she had something on her
mind.
   "Bobby, what you did today, helping that boy, that Leon person, that was
very brave, and very generous of you, and I'm proud of you.  Your heart is
definitely in the right place.  You and Ricky did the right thing, you
helped someone who needed you, but in future just be careful, please, both
of you, and try to not hurt anyone, you know how I feel about violence, I
saw so much of it at home..."
   I saw the bright tears glimmering in the corners of her eyes, and I
realised she was thinking of her mother, and what our father used to do to
her, and I cursed myself for telling her and bringing those memories back
again.  I kissed her tears away and held her against me until she turned
away and spooned up against me, speaking again, but so softly now I could
barely hear her.
   "Bobby, I'm a realist, I know there might be times when you have no
choice, and you'll have to fight; just promise me you won't go starting
anything, okay?  Please don't be your father..."
   That jolted me awake; she was frightened I'd become the kind of man my
father was, something I would avoid at all costs.  It had felt undeniably
good to drop that bloke, and that thought scared me; it was the kind of
thought my father would have, and I'd sworn never to be the man he was.
   Shuddering at how close I'd come to being like my father, I promised
myself I'd never again give her cause to have this conversation with me. 
As I was starting to drift away, still pondering her words, Shari twisted
around and kissed me lightly.
   "Bobby, I forgot to ask, did this Leon say anything about his
girlfriend? What's she like, and what's her name?"
   I had to think for a second, remembering our talk in the coffee-shop.
   "He said she's a medical student, and that we'd like her.  Her name
is..." I had to rack my brains for a second or two.  "Oh yes, her name's
Judy; Judy Nixon, apparently her dad's a doctor too..."
   to be continued....
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1QdQXsD
  
RagDollCh.06Pt01