Film Fini – 4

by Feather Touch


      Half-decent-looking electric bike, the eGo, featured on MSN, but both it and the Segway (featured in “Sunday in the Park”) miss the ideal  The Segway’s too dangerous, because, with the rider’s feet trapped between the two fenders, he can’t helped but being pitched violently on his face in the event of even a minor mishap.  The eGo is too bike, too get-on-and-ride, rather than touch and go.  The ideal is a scooter with dual rear wheels, a postillion, if that’s what it’s called, to support the rider in a semi-seated position (as on a stool), and a flat, low floor both for safety – so legs can be moved to aid in balance – and ease of entry and exit.  The battery/motor assembly should be mounted at the rear, forming the structure of the seat.  The floor should house additional batteries.  The concept is not unlike the Italian Vespa motor scooters, with a hefty battery and powerful motor replacing the noisy, toxic, temperamental gas engine and transmission.  Step-on, scoot, step-off.  Someday someone will get it.
      
      It might be an idea to get this, too.  The future standard light vehicle power assembly, used in the vast majority of production cars and pickup trucks.  Two engines, a two hundred horsepower unit and a twenty horsepower pony engine, or APU.  Both would be of the boxer design, each with six cylinders for smoothness.  The vehicle would also be equipped with electric drive to the extent of about ten horse power and a pair of truck batteries.  When in traffic or around town, the vehicle would be powered, depending on whether or not the a/c was required, with either the battery bank or pony engine, with the main power plant always available at a press of the accelerator.  The pony engine would run at a set r.p.m. (2,100) so that the alternator, a/c compressor, and other accessories, no longer required to perform their tasks at “idle,” would be far smaller and more efficient than today’s devices.  The two engines would be mounted with the smaller machine on top, sharing both induction and exhaust systems.  The electric motors would be fitted to the non-driven wheels, giving a useful four-wheel-drive capability.  A distinct advantage of such a hybrid would be an auto-follow mode.  Since the drive train is electric, it could be wired into a distance-measuring device and set to follow at a nominal distance behind the vehicle ahead of it at speeds up to five or six miles per hour.  Sure, more fun than anything Disney’s imagineers have come up with, but think of the savings in tedium and nuisance driving, too.  Just add in the quantum reduction in fuel consumption and corresponding green aspects and standardize it by fiat for use across the industry (to get the price down), and all one can say is “why not?”  I keep babbling on about how you aren’t going to make it on your own, how you need a monarch for this reason and about a thousand thats, so I thought it would be a good idea to include an actual example of king craft, a la your totally cool American royal highness.
      
      Bibliographical notes.  I added “Poster Boys” and “Truckin’-eh” to ASSTR, which about fills my standing archive unless I want to bring over the mammoth “One Fish at a Time” and “Stonington Stories,” both still on Nifty.  One of these days.  This leaves a dozen or so titles on N., most adult/young friends and bi-incest, with “Shady’s Closet” under the celeb heading, and a few under sci-fi/fantasy, including “The Flyyy”.  I can’t remember where “Creative Camp,” my first published novel, ended up, maybe bi-camping.  I was about a third of the way into “Blissy’s Song” on 9/11, but David attached it to another novel, maybe “The Tarzan Mushroom Hunters,” so I don’t know exactly where it is.  Other titles that come to mind are: “Dennis the…,” “Rebecca,” “Ropeyarn,”  “Santa Fe Stories,” and “Hollywood Stories.”  These are under a variety of pen names, including my own, and will reward the diligent searcher with no lesser amounts of fake nonsense than is to be found in the present story.  And should one amongst the thousands wish “the complete works” there’s a fifty thousand word addendum to “One Fish…” that is theirs for the asking (doing so will put you in possession of, to the best of my knowledge, the world’s longest novel), also a Travis McGee piece I decided not to publish even though I pleased myself greatly in sketching the established hero of the Bahia Mar (where I actually spent a week of my life).  In all, some 1.3 million words, no record, unless quality is considered, but it’s been less than three years so I’m in there pitching.  (And what a wonderful time to suggest you pitch a little relief with a substantive donation to either of the alternative sites, or both.)
      
      Horrifically, another election year looms.  A limitless extravaganza over picking one of two peas from a pod.  Kerry is meant to be some kind of cousin, hangs out at our family digs on Naushon (see “Poet of Phu Bai”), so I guess I should have a preference, but if I did it would be for urban Al who would categorize the job and bring a slobbering manliness to the office, which might be refreshing after so many boys.  
      
      Al Gore’s suicide turn.  A five minute concession speech, irrevocably withdrawing with light-hearted reference to the ironies of rule by law, and, as I said at the time, he could have campaigned from Iceland and won both nomination and the office.  Instead, he sickened us in the tens of millions with his Jewboy approach, exercising every legality available with the only thing written down, finitum, being the sitting president’s hour of departure.  The one time he should have been stiff, and he’s off like a goose.  Leaving us with One Book attaching anti-abortion executive orders to keep his bible belle wife happy.  His sentence, under my administration, would be to take a dozen of those unwanted and unaffordable children into his home, sans aux pair.  Watch the pretty lady wilt, for her very will was kilt, so many mouths and many tears spilt, and she in front to bear the guilt.  Gore would have been better.  No one out there would be good.  The only thing they are is identical.  I’ll stick with horrific.
      
      
      Jesse’s story ended aboard the outbound ship so it was his sister’s turn.  The afternoon had passed delightfully, my two young hosts outdoing themselves when it came to the domesticities inherent in catering to a visitor as well as entertaining the guest.  The hours had passed, and though something did nag a trifle, being naked with a handsome fourteen year old and a pixie twelve year old occupied me fully, indeed.  By this time we were generally experimenting with each other, much left in reserve, and feeling more like the winners of an extended contract than a lottery jackpot.
      
      “You said nothing had happened with boys,” Jesse said, prompting Alice.
      “Just with Janice Mackenzie,” Alice said, “last week.  In fact, she gave me a week to tell you, so I’m running out of time.”
      “I’ll tamper with the clock,” Jesse suggested, his sister responding that it had been an informal demand and a few hours wouldn’t matter.
      “It was a dark and stormy night,” she began, “and her parents were stuck in the city.  I’d just dropped by after school for milk and cookies, the way she does here on alternate afternoons, when the storm hit these parts.”
      
      “I really wanted you to stay overnight, anyway, Alice,” her classmate said as they secured the house against the rising wind and blowing rain.
      “And I was going to ask you to stay over with me, too,” her friend responded as they settled in the living room.
      “Because of what you heard?” the slightly older twelve year asked.
      “Especially, I suppose,” Alice replied, “but anyway, too.”
      “How do you feel about grownup stuff?” was the hostesses next question.
      “I’m not getting any younger,” her friend observed.
      “Well, what you heard, that was pretty big-girl, right?”
      “My first reaction, when Beth told me,” the girl said, “was ‘lucky’ girl.”
      “And you’re sure that’s how you feel, now, staying over with me with just Cliff and Barbara in the house?”
      “Just a little scared and a wee petrified,” Alice replied, “with a case of the jitters hanging fire.”
      “I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if you’d been cool and offhand about it,” Janice said, “because it’s nothing like that.  I was so scared I’m still frightened, and Barbara’s only nine.”
      “But it’s Cliff,” Alice reminded her friend.
      “I know,” Alice whispered, “so imagine doing anything wrong.  Showing, in the least way, you weren’t totally receptive and wanting.  Sisters aren’t meant to want like that, so a girl’s burdened with a hierarchy while trying to engage the passions of a god.”
      “Where there is religion there is fear,” Alice observed.
      “And where there’s a best-friend-in-the-world like you, there’s someone to share it with,” Janice responded.  The girls stared into each other’s eyes, burned brighter by the moment, and leaned equally one to the other.  “And I want to share all of it,” she whispered, lips inches from the beauty in front of her, “all the heat and sweat of being with a stag completely naked and for over an hour.”  Then their lips met and so Alice’s willing nods sufficed.
      
      “Was it okay?” Janice asked a few minutes later.  “Tell the truth, I won’t be offended.  It’s way normal to just like boys.”
      “No,” Alice said, “it was beautiful, but I was thinking some of Jesse.”
      “That would be way-way normal,” her friend responded, adding: “how’d we end up with Cliff and Jesse?”
      “I guess ‘cause we read a lot and we’re interesting to talk to,” the young visitor noted as her pretty friend nodded in agreement.
      “Do you think we prod them to read more to keep up with us?” the hostess asked.
      “If I were Cliff I’d do a lot more than sit around flipping pages to keep up with you,” Alice replied.
      “We skip rope, too,” Janice said, “and I let him lead by teasing me into it.”
      “Can you tell me everything?” the pretty guest asked, “or is it sort of secret and private?”
      “More than that,” Janice said, “more than tell you.  It’s Barbara.  That’s why it’s totally crucial you stay tonight, especially with mom and dad away.  We had a long talk because I didn’t want her finding out sideways, nor did our brother.  She was thrilled and wanted to see what I’d let Cliff see in the shower.”
      “Did you let her?” Alice whispered, her voice husky.
      “I let her bring me up to my room and we jumped rope for a few minutes, then we did what had happened the night before, only we didn’t turn the water on in the shower because we’d only used the ropes for a couple of minutes so Barbara would know exactly how it happened.”
      “I’d have let her see me, too,” Alice said.
      “She asked if I’d ever seen you, too,” Alice responded, “and I said no, because we had different gym classes.  Then she asked me if I wanted to see you.”  The beauty didn’t say more, just began on the buttons of her friend’s uniform blouse, Alice quickly copying.
      “Here, or up in my room?” Janice whispered as she pulled the tails of her pretty pig-tailed friend’s shirt from her waist.
      “Where are your brother and sister?” Alice asked.
      “They’ll be home just after four,” the older girl said, “he’s picking her up from practice for the dance-hall recital.”
      “Then maybe we have time to do what you and Barbara did,” Alice suggested.  Her friend’s eyes glowed in hot appreciation and she nodded avidly, extending her hands.  The girls stood and pecked each other nervously on the cheek as they removed their blouses and looked down at each other, whispering, “hi.”  Janice led, they stopped for a moment in her room to shed their shoes and skirts, then set the stage by a few quick swings of the pair of ropes hanging from the doorknob.  
      
      “We stopped after twenty minutes,” Janice said, coming up close behind her friend.  “I was in my sun suit and he just had on gym shorts.  We’d both been getting more and more nervous when we were close to each other and didn’t have anything to do or say, and I knew he was too shy to say anything, too shy and too proper.  Anyhow, I’d had a couple of long talks with Beth Reynolds, and I kind of understood what was happening, so finally I thought of an answer.”
      “What was it?” Alice whispered, her pretty friend standing inches behind her.
      “I told Cliff that when I got older it would be really nice if he could stand really close behind me, and I got in front of him like you’re in front of me, and we could get you and Barbara to swing a two-man rope, and he could hold me from behind while with jumped in unison.”
      Alice closed her eyes for a moment to get the full picture.  “God, that’s so perfect,” she finally breathed.  “And Jesse could hold me, when I start getting big.”
      “Cliff needed more convincing,” Janice said, “because of the brother/sister thing.”
      “Tell me everything,” Alice said, moving the last inches to the leggy beauty behind her.
      “It was all whispering,” Janice responded, “and really sick sounding because suddenly we both knew it was going to happen and we were yawning and scared out of our wits.  I finally managed to tell him I was beginning to grow a little and if he saw how much he’d realize we should make plans and not just talk about it.  Just our voices let us know we agreed, and that’s when he mentioned your brother, and he even asked me, I mean he almost couldn’t talk he was so shy about it, if I’d let Jesse hold me sometimes when we were all working out together.”
      “What did you say?” Alice whispered, easing her friend’s hands to her bare tummy and pressing firmly back to her.  Janice responded, her hands tracing up on the twelve year old’s heaving chest.
      “That it would be a good idea if we guys dated a lot and got married so as not to break up the set, and Barbara would be included as chaperone until we set up housekeeping, and then babysitter should she have been indecisive in her first role, therefore, I’d like it if he’d bring Jesse over sometime, and exercising together would be a good lead-in to the news, so to speak.”
      “Will you care whose baby it is?” Alice asked, stretching her slim arms back behind her classmate’s neck and arching for the roaming fingers of the beauty.
      “No,” Janice answered, “what I care about is having it young.  What else is there out there?  Why not stay home and read with an eight pound entertainment center?  What if they have it all wrong; marriage and that nine yards; what if the best thing is for girls from solvent backgrounds is to have a child as soon as they were able; perhaps even a daughter/sister or daughter/granddaughter?  Everyone makes a big issue out of the practical side of it, but what if the family wants another kid?  Since that’s the entire argument, isn’t the argument negated, especially in an age where we can have daughters, if we chose, on the first go-‘round, thus perpetuating more extensive interest in the developing child?”
      “We’re solvent, too,” Alice purred in response.  “Dad makes tons.  We could afford triplets.”
      “Whose do you want?” Janice asked, “my brother’s or yours.”
      “Jesse’s,” Alice replied, “but only by an inch.  It would be vaguely neat to have a daughter/niece.”
      “And how old would you want her to be before you started leaving her alone with one of the males,” the young hostess whispered.
      “Maybe five,” her friend replied.  “In fact, I can’t picture myself at an age when I wouldn’t have like Jesse to touch me and sleep with me.”
      “Same here,” Janice noted, “so five it is, then.”
      “Maybe,” Alice mused, “by that time it will be considered child abuse not to let father or brothers bathe with girls starting at three and a half.”
      “I don’t know,” Janice responded, “we’re dead dogs when it comes to liberating our Muslim sisters from unspeakable bondage, so pursuing greatness in our own behalf might be a stretch.”
      “In that case we’ll have to let the desert sweeten the oasis,” Alice noted, “and share the forbidden of the bad girl in secret.”
      “Incestuous sluts rabid for the sperm of hell,” Janice added.
      “And we can, too,” her friend whispered back, “the five of us, at first, breaking rules as if they were the pretzels they so often resemble, and then, guess what?”
      “What.” the breathless girl in back panted.
      “Our sweet, gentle, and way cute dads, that’s what,” came the answer, “and we put it to them thus: give in, mate with us, or we’ll date ball players.”
      
      “The line of scrimmage versus eternal damnation,” Janice mused aloud, “but it’s almost too obvious to serve as a storyline: the girl who goes the yardage ends up tackled and disabled, while the sweet thing who stays home with daddy lives happily ever after, well rested and fit to resist any ill-humor of ye gods.”
      “You know what I want to see?” Alice asked, totally satisfied with the lingering touches of her friend tracing ever closer to her bulging training bra, and wanting to extend the interlude before they stood, forehead against forehead, as their fingers exposed each other in a slow and feminine dance.
      “What.” Janice said.
      “We’re all together at a resort.  I want to see you walk off with both our dads and both our brothers, and watch you all the way down the balcony over the pool, until you pause at the door and then enter a room.”
      “Will you wait outside the door?” Janice whispered.
      “Will you let my kiss you – everywhere – if I do?” the precious guest asked in turn.
      “Totally,” her friend agreed.
      “Then,” Alice intone, “be it know by all present that Slut Families, International, a not-for-profit corporation, is hereby established in recognition of the rights of children to love those they love and bear a love child at the earliest possible age.”
      “That sounds way profitable to me,” her friend responded.
      
      Both girls were silent for several minutes, a reverie finally broken by the visiting girl.  “God,” she sighed, “it must have been so amazing to have his big, powerful body behind you while this was happening, to feel the power in him and what he was going to do with you.”
      “You’ll know soon enough,” Janice whispered back, “but just be sure to wait for really, really the right time; when you have hours together so it can happen again and again, not so you get used to it, but so you get comfortable with the feeling you never will, that every time you give each other a certain look or certain touch, you’ll be off the planet, and very possibly pregnant when you alight back on Earth.”
      “It just makes me worry about lightning and runaway busses,” the guest said, “of not living until it happens, by some fluke, some special ethereal mechanism specifically designed to prevent perfection.”
      “I thought the same,” Janice whispered, “and that was just between here and the shower; that showing him was so much of everything at once if it was real I wouldn’t live to experience it.”
      “Are you really beautiful?” Alice asked.
      “Yes,” the other preteen said, “are you?”  The willowy child nodded in her friend’s arms, then lowered her own, turning so they faced each other.  Gazing into each other’s eyes, they moved from the room, retracing Janice’s last steps as a virgin, and stepped into the dry shower.  
      “Are you sure, sis,” Janice whispered, play Cliff for Alice.
      “For about ten years now,” the other girl said, playing her friend.
      “And it can be for just working out,” the “boy” husked, “because it does make sense, and there’s nothing unusual about doubles when it comes to jumping-rope.”
      “An Ace bandage would work for that,” the girl replied, “but I’m in love with a six-two athletic brother, so I thought I’d at least ask.”
      “And I’m in love with a sprite too beautiful to believe,” the girl said to her guest, quoting Cliff, “so I was hoping you would, even though I didn’t want to say anything.”
      “Where we’re going,” Alice played along, “they hang folks for gallantry like that, and if you try it with our daughter, it’ll be Katy call the mortician.”
      
      Their hands traced each other’s cheeks and lingered as they caressed down the slim necks.  The tile shower echoed their light panting and whispers.  
      “You’re the third one,” Janice said as Alice’s fingers began straying down from her shoulders, “Cliff and Barbara, because I’m kinda modest in gym and put it on while my back is turned.”
      “And you still have your dad to show,” her friend whispered, hissing audibly at the effect of her words on her young lover’s pubescent breasts, her own swelling immediately in total sympathy.  They’d never be more beautiful and both sensed it, quickly baring her mate and staring alternately between quarter-sized mounds, almost identical, and jutting pink nipples 
      “He touched me in a special way,” Janice said, “where he’s most sensitive against where a girl is second most sensitive.”  
      “He had to kneel down?” Alice asked to be sure she had the fantasy image of the tall athlete making the most sensual possible contact with the blossoming seventh grader. 
      “Just a little,” the beauty said as the girls stood, hands at their sides, electrifying themselves, “because he leaned back against the wall and spread his legs really wide, the way I did later when he took me in on the bed, so I had to lean over so it would be perfect.”
      The age-mates had no such issue being within an inch of each other so the continued standing and whispering, hands at their sides.  “Where?” Alice asked, and Janice pointed to her left breast.  Carefully the girls moved, and an inch at a time they came together, one jutting left nipple finally massaging gently against its mate as the girls panted and quaked at their first openly lesbian touch.  
      “Show me everything, like you showed Barbara,” Alice said after several minutes of their standing rigidly still.
      “It was from behind, after we touched,” Janice responded, “his penis against my back and his hands all over me while I linked my fingers behind his neck and stood on my tiptoes.”  To inject an inappropriate note of levity, what happened next would not have been possible on the floor of a wet shower, either girl might have done herself an injury so alertly did Alice respond to Janice’s description of being taken in hand by her powerful, athletic brother.  Now bare-chested, the two reprised their pre-shower ritual.
      
      “I meant to say, before,” Alice whispered in the echoing stall, “when I was talking about how Cliff must have felt behind you, that you feel beautiful behind me.  You’re slim, you’re delicate, and muscular, which is way sexy, and your breasts feel as beautiful as they would to any boy.”
      
      Janice didn’t have time to reply because a car turned in from the street and parked close to the front door, two figures dashing through the rain and onto the porch.  Janice quickly escorted her guest back to her bedroom and the two girls slipped out of their panties and following the hostess’s lead, slipped under the bed, taking a pair of throw pillows so they could like comfortably back from the edge and still see the full-length mirror which adorned Janice’s closet.  
      
      “Oldest girl gets the biggest room,” the hostess explained as the naked girls got comfortable, not difficult on the thick, wool carpeting, “so this is workout headquarters.”  Indeed, such did seem to be the case for in a minute the seventeen year old swimmer and nine year old dancer entered, he still in his gym shorts, she still in her leotard.  
      “Kind of weird to be doing this after we’ve already had enough working out for an army platoon,” Cliff said.
      “Well,” his sister replied, “it’s my first time doing it alone with you, so I wanted to do at least a few minutes while I think of what to say.”
      “That’ll help me, too,” Cliff said, his voice slightly husky.  In the mirror the girls could see the two look at each other, she up, he down, and hold the gaze for several moments.  Then they retrieved the ropes from the doorknob and began a workout that was freakin’ letter perfect to be mistaken for other sounds of avid exercise.
      
      “So far it’s perfect,” Janice said as the girls took advantage of the interlude to whisper and kiss, “I wanted to talk to him about Beth and had to stall to think what to say, and his voice was the same, and we looked at each other to say yes without any words.”
      “She’s beautiful in her dance costume,” Alice whispered back, “and I’ve never seen Cliff without a shirt, which is a pretty a-word sight.”
      “And we’ll be able to see them perfectly in the mirror,” Janice responded as the two gripped each other’s hands excitedly.  They whispered for another few minutes, then the young athletes came to a stop and returned their ropes to the doorknob.
      
      “Do you want to stay here with me or go back to your own room and change or something,” the gentle brother whispered.
      “I want to stay,” Barbara replied, her voice rasping and husky.
      “Do you want to talk for awhile?” the boy whispered.
      “Yes,” Barbara nodded, “while you get me ready.”
      “Okay,” Cliff said, “but remember, the door isn’t locked and if sis comes home from Alice’s her note says she’s going to study in the den.”
      “That’s on purpose for us,” the dainty girl said, “because last night while you were at late practice she told me everything, and we even went in the shower together and I pretended I was you and she showed me everything, and about Beth, and what happened when you came back in here, and also about Jesse and Alice and how we can have a workout club with the five of us.”
      “And?” the teen whispered.
      “We won’t be the Lone Rangers,” the pixie replied, “because an industrialized culture needs some contact with the human side of things, or words to that effect, and the only option left is a non-derivative familial paradigm, since what’s being handed down now isn’t worth shit.  The issue of the day should revolve around girls staying sleek enough to attract the interest of equally slim brothers and fathers, not locking people up in some Looney Tune, hit or miss response to an ugly and insatiably greedy morality.  Teach us to read, and let us be sluts of the universe to handsome brothers and their handsome friends.”
      The little girl wasn’t angry, just a kid who’d reached herself in life and was happy to have been thither guided by a glowingly beautiful older sister who’d left no doubt in her exceedingly bright young mind exactly what she wanted.  She faced her tall brother, and looking up at him shyly, rather than boldly, pulled her Danceskin down to her waist.  Cliff knelt in front of her, his hands moving to her delicate chest and fondling her as she moved to him.
      “She’s beautiful, isn’t she,” the teen whispered.
      “Very,” the girl answered, “and especially when she kind of showed me how you first touched her in the shower.”
      “I’d like to touch you a different way,” Cliff whispered, “with you lying naked on your back with a pillow under your hips and me kneeling between your legs, then moving over you until we’re in position, then move forward until I’m against you.”
      “Can my head be on a pillow, too,” the nine year old asked, “so I can see everything?”
      “Yes,” the male said, his hands running down the flanks of his panting kid sister as he stripped her naked, then stood while she removed his gym shorts and athletic supporter, whispering inaudibly at the long, hard erection jutting high from his muscular lower belly.  Barbara turned to the bed and while her brother molested from behind, arranged the two pillows, then let the male pick her up and lie her back, her eyes glazed as she watched his move slowly between her legs and bend over her.  His corded arms were trunks of a tree, his sweating, heaving chest an approaching storm, his fully adult penis John Wayne ahead a cavalry of half a million.  Instinctively not wanting to confuse the feelings of him, she stretched her slim arms high above her chest and lifted her thighs to his incestuous approach.  With lingering care they managed a perfect first union, but gasping at the heat and wetness of their panting partner.  Cliff buried himself in the lolling, hissing little girl a half inch at a time, thrusting gently for almost a minute, before succumbing to her urging and holding himself hot and rigid for her mewing thrusts.  
      
      Alice and her young hostess had a better than perfect view. the tall, near adult between the splayed little-girl legs, the gentle contractions of the powerful muscles of his lower back as he spent gentle minute after gentle minute carefully mating his swimmer’s thighs with those of the petite dancer.  “Was he that gentle with you,” Alice whispered softly to her friend as they lay on their stomachs, chins on the throw pillows, watching the male now rigid and still over the waifish child.
      “Jesse will be the same with you,” was the answer, “that’s why you want to be sure you have lots of time, because the feeling gets better and better and if you can go slowly it catches up with you and suddenly you’re a girl, maybe even kind of a woman, and something primal happens and your whole body suddenly says nothing but ‘yes’ and ‘more.’  It’s kind of like sneaking up on the f-word,” the whispered explanation continued, “if you try to hurry or take a shortcut by yield to any of a million strong impulses, then it would be over in a fast, hot rush, but if you sneak up very carefully and slowly, then the dangerous part is over and you can be a girl all you want and the boy will stay with you.”
      
      As if on cue, there was a slight motion to the bed above the girls lying half on top of each other, their hands seeming unable to get enough of each other’s budding breasts.  Then it became distinct, and, as Barbara passed from the danger zone to being a girl, the bed began a rhythmic squeaking that quickly gained in volume.  In the mirror, the athlete was now moving hard and fast over the lolling girl beneath him.  Barbara’s hands moved to the male’s shoulders as her slim legs encircled the powerful waist of her stallion, then down along his flanks, and, when he rose so they could look down between themselves, to his heaving chest.
      “Now I know why they call it that,” Alice whispered to Janice, and indeed the sound of a young male mating with an avid female had auditory attributes that explained a lot.
      “Once you reach this stage,” Janice said, “and are safely in f territory, to be crude about it, it lasts for twenty or thirty minutes, which is why all the cautionary notes on your being sure it’s just right for you and Jesse.”
      
      By now the bed could have been heard anywhere in the house, and, yes, it went on and on, the little girl’s tiny hands all over the male coaxing and welcoming as she thrust inexhaustibly from her pillow to meet his totally adult behavior with her.  “I’m picturing you there with my dad,” Alice whispered and the girls were able to respond wantonly to their future, heedless of being overheard – as if it would have mattered – by the couple on the bed.
      “Listen,” Janice hushed her friend’s whispering, “you can tell we’re sisters and maybe even Cliff’s our brother, because she’s making the same noises I did when I started to lose control, when I suddenly became happy as a big girl and wanted nothing more in the world than to make him happy at being a boy teaching his loving kid sister.  I knew he’d never boast about making me cum, but that in some special way he’d feel terrific if it happened our first time, and then I started sounding like Barbara, and a minute later I had a very proud brother gazing tenderly down into my big-girl eyes.”
      Both girls hushed.  Barbara’s moans increased in pitch, then the little girl was hissing her brother’s name, their hard rhythm ceasing while the bed shuddered and quaked to the flailing body of the gasping little girl.  Almost silence, almost a minute.
      “Did you sperm while it was happening?” came a small, shy whisper.
      “No, darling,” the mature teen said, “that happened while we both lay very still together.”
      “Looking into her eyes?” the small voice asked.
      “Yes,” the boy replied.
      “Can a girl feel it?” the young beauty asked.
      “Janice did,” Cliff said, “at first she was pretty shocked because it was kind of violent, but after awhile she looked more sleepy and happy.  All that lightning that didn’t strike, maybe.”
      “Or knowing now there was no way on earth she could die without her beautiful brother being a part of her,” the girl mused.
      “If you weren’t being, you know, like a stallion with her,” the girl asked after a minute during which a slight motion could be sensed by the girls under the bed, “how did she make you cum, that’s what the girls at school call it.”
      “We talked about growing up together,” Cliff whispered, “about Alice and Jesse and what it would be like to be really honest with them and see if they had the same feelings, then she started quizzing me about you and how I thought your body would feel underneath me, and what it would be like to be inside a nine year old and all of a sudden I was spraying in her before either one of us even knew it.”
      
      For long, long moments the bed simply shuddered, then the quaking young bodies stilled.  Their breathing eased as time passed but no whispering was overheard by the hidden voyeurs, no sighs, not mews of “awesome” or “baby.”  A minute or two more and the bed creaked to studious movement, four feet appeared, and, hand and hand, brother and sister quietly left their sister’s bedroom, naked because they were headed for the shower.
      
      It was getting late.  Something yet nagged but we got involved, all naked now, in setting up candles in Alice’s room and furnishing her bed with pillows and a garland of flowers her brother had fashioned before he’d begun the art of penning a heart in four colors on her delicate white shoulder.  With Jesse’s story of Leif and subsequent characters and his sister’s account of the nearby neighbors, the three of us had had about as much foreplay as is safely tolerated.  We males were hugely erect, Jesse so big for a mid teen, at nearly seven inches, circumcised, by eye measurement, I quizzed the boy about his time with his friend from the river, this as an adjunct to a pet theory of mine concerning excess hormones, in other words, those not produced by one’s own body, and development of both male and female as a result of such excesses.  Jesse admitted Leif had ejaculated in his mouth a number of times over the week he’d camped by the loch, so his adult appearance fit with my unscientific notion.  
      
      For all the spicy territory covered over the evening hours, one thrill had been omitted and Jesse whispered to me about it while we were setting up the candles.  “I’d like her to see it happen,” he said, blushing shyly, “if you’ll let me touch you.  On her chest.  I loved that with Leif, and I want Alice to experience it, if you’ll let me.”
      
      I just nodded.  I was no nineteen year old, but I’d been on a fairly hectic go for the preceding week, and so hadn’t had thought to indulge in anything.  Add several hours of erotic story telling and images of the handsome fourteen year old on his knees before his tall Norwegian partner, his throat pumping rhythmically, and, well, not to put too fine a point on it, maybe I’d do in a pinch.
      
      Brother lay kid sister out for me, her legs together, and guided me over her until I was kneeling on her thighs, bending forward and bracing myself on the headboard.  He took me like a man usually takes a boy, his left arm tight around my chest, his left hand fondling me until it settled into a steady and experienced stroking.  Alice was a picture, staring up at us, her face intent, her pretty braids making her look very little-girl.  As I said, the foreplay had been about as complete as it gets, and the boy’s solid chest panting against my back as his hand took me as it must have Leif, several times, were sensual in their own right.  His hard penis thrust firmly against me; I’d never been mounted, and had actually fooled around very little, books and expertise, notwithstanding, so I could hardly help infer, from his urgency against me and his hot breath on my right shoulder, that once beautiful Alice was sound asleep I might let him be a boy with me all he wanted, and, god, what if Leif had been successful with him and he wanted that to happen with me?  In all events, nice girl, pretty girl, slim girl, good stories, handsome brother, more good stories, strong arm, hard hand, hot breath, well, the psychological ducks were in a perfect row, the girl’s eyes were huge, her pretty breasts sweaty and rising and falling like a bellows, and the totality made me cum like a beast.
      
      Alice’s response was a hiss to her brother to look, and the boy did, experienced enough with the athletic Norwegian to run his hand to my base, gripping me with maybe half his strength and holding me against the twelve year old’s breasts, moving me all around her chest as it went on and on, half feeling like I was watching a stranger, the kind one keeps on studded chain, like a big gorilla or something.  Never anything like it, and she was in a bare minute slicked and glistening beyond belief.  I moved from Alice as she lay back, her eyes huge as she looked down over her wet breasts and belly, and helped her now even more swollen brother between her now widely spread legs.  He fondled his sister’s inner thighs as I huddled over him from behind, guiding him until the child’s thrusts met him and they both froze in shock.  Palpable with all of us was Janice’s advise to both Alice and Barbara, trying to subdue the frenzy of novelty, the sucking, massaging heat, until it could really happen between the male and the female.  This to say it was lingering and deliberate, Jesse whispering encouragement to me to restrain him with the girl nodding in accordance while her hands pulled at his flanks and her legs went around both of us, her heels urging her brother forward as avidly as her eyes.  
      
      We survived.  In ten minutes he was high between her thighs and in another couple he nodded and whispered he was okay so I could fully release his bone hard penis.  My hand lingered just a few moments more so I could feel them come fully together, then, sure he really was in control – how, I hadn’t the vaguest idea on Earth – I felt it was okay to go for the camera.  
      
      “If you want to practice being married, you can call me Cliff,” Jesse said.
      “And his daddy, Daddy,” the beauty panted as both youngsters experimented with moving their slick chests against each other.
      “Think how it will be,” the powerful brother responded, now fully in the missionary position, the waif huddled in his arms and beginning to respond to her welcoming hips, “to hear Barbara whisper that.”
      H’mm, interesting how leaving out a parade of ball players enhances certain conversations.  There were five of them on the bed, swirling in each other’s minds, each cherished and valued, and it was a case of less being more, a finite number, all beauty and no strangers until Alice or Janice took quiet leaves from school and returned for the following year with a new daughter in either or both families.  
      
      She became a big girl before my eyes, the change from experimental to for real as evident in her eyes and expression as changing slides in a projector.  Flick from intense concentration, the student, to a magna cum laude, a totality that softened her and made her brother grunt in response as he began moving fully to her.  The ultimate green light.  I fondled them both as they mated, Alice’s hand sometimes reaching to pull me back should I retreat.  Both of them so muscular.  Wet with perspiration and the teen flood of semen the now openly panting male had coaxed from me.  Her nipples on fire against him, and his powerful rise high on his arms so they could both look down at his adult hugeness obviously extremely capable of leaving her with child.
      
      Holding the Canon in my left hand, I quickly jerked off on their flanks, cumming fast and hard, then again huddled over Jesse and molested him as he began the long, full rape of his mewing kid sister.  In minutes I clearly detected a whitening of the child’s knuckles as she clawed at her stallion’s powerful back and I move the camera to catch her face.  She climaxed from her brother with a stuttering wail, crying out both Cliff and Daddy, then lolled inertly for long moments before the big-girl looked returned to her eyes and her hands went to Jesse’s face to toy with the lank hair plastering his forehead.  
      “Did you cum inside me?” she whispered.
      “No, darling,” he replied.
      They slowed and she kept staring.  “You can be a little proud, you know,” Alice smiled shyly
      “Most in the world I want to be looking into your eyes when it happens,” the boy whispered.
      “And more than that, I want to do the same,” the girl said.
      “I loved it when you called me daddy,” the boy rasped.
      “I felt you swell up,” the twelve year old said, still running her fingers over the handsome face glowing over her.
      “It’ll just be so amazing for him,” he responded, “and for Cliff.  To feel you this way, and to know you want a baby.”
      “And I know how to get one,” the girl said with her small smile, “all I have to do is have you hold me very tight against you while I whisper one word.”
      “I can’t think of a word that wouldn’t do that,” the fourteen year old husked.
      “Then best,” his sister said, “because the word is ‘Barbara.’”
      
      Even forewarned, the child didn’t know what she was getting in for.  Her eyes flew open in childish alarm and she squealed aloud, for half a second almost pushing the monster from her, then her senses came pounding home and she yelped his name, trailing off into moans of: “my brother, my brother,” each time she felt the athletic beauty inseminate her.
      
      He covered her and caressed her until she fell quietly asleep, eased his hand from hers, and stood from his sister’s bed, displaying openly for me.  Taking my hand he led me to his room where he had me play Leif’s role in mounting him, and then spending half an hour, with me being him, as he led me to feel the same hot pulse that had so shocked all three girls.  In the end, he showed me to the guest bedroom to my great relief, because things are things and sleeping with boys isn’t one of those things.  
      
      Now I’ve gone and set myself something of a row to how, vis-à-vis the ending of my first night in the Highlands village.  The sun woke us more or less together at around eight the next morning.  The phone rang and things were settled on the parental front, my presence announced.  While the kids dealt with breakfast, I decided to stroll about the neighborhood and pick up some groceries and any little hunk of software that might catch my eye.  I opened the door and stepped out onto the flag stones.  Trusty and now rusty, there was the Konica, loyally rigid at attention on its tripod, still dripping from the night’s rain.  I was horrified – knew something had been nagging at me – but all was not lost, and on two counts.  First, it gave me a title for my Highland’s story, and, second, as I looked up from the ruined camera and out the gate, came a teen, a preteen, and a pert pixie.  
      
      
Film Fini

THE END

Posted by Thomas@btl.net

xxx 
      

