CHAPTER TEN

   By the next morning, Bob was a wreck.  He crawled out of bed in self
defense, and checked on Deliah.  She was awake, and alert.

   "My daughters need lessons in being more quiet," she said,
enigmatically.

   Bob blushed.

   "I knew you'd be good to them," she said.  "Do you have any idea how
hard it is to masturbate when your arm is in a cast?"

   "You want something to eat?" he asked, changing the subject.

   "Yes, but I suspect they wore it out last night," she said, grinning. 
"I suppose breakfast will have to do.  I'm going to need a sponge bath
later, though."

   "I'll talk to the girls," he said, backing up.

   "You'll do no such thing," she said firmly.  "You ravaged them, if the
noise they made all night long was any indication.  You let them sleep.  I
want to be taken care of by you, today."

   "We'll see," he said, backing up some more.

   "Thank you," she said suddenly.  "You don't know what this means to me
...  to us."

   "I'm beginning to get some idea of that," said Bob, smiling gently.  "It
may take a few days to sink in."

   "We can talk about ...  sinking in ...  when I'm more healed up," she
grinned.  "For now, a nice, long sponge bath will have to do."

   ======================================

   Two hours later, Deliah got her sponge bath.  When her nipples popped
out while he washed them, Bob leaned over to suck at them gently.  Her ribs
still hurt, though, and when she started breathing more deeply, she groaned
and let him stop.  She was horny the rest of the day, and that night, after
she took some pain medication, he licked her pussy to what was supposed to
be a gentle orgasm, just to take the edge off.  Deliah, though, had been
without sex for years, and there was nothing gentle about it.  She
admitted, afterwards, that she'd be patient for a couple more weeks.

   Her daughters were not.  Once initiated into the world of complete sex,
and with Bob at their beck and call, they spent the next two weeks cajoling
Bob onto his back, in Daphne's case, and between her spread thighs, in
Gabriella's.

   Daphne loved being on top, once she found out what that was like.  She
used her body weight, sitting up straight to rise and fall as fast as her
thighs would propel her, or thrust her hips forward and back rapidly,
leaving him deep inside her as she did so.  Bob loved to see her breasts
bounce and wobble as she bit her lip and came around his stiff prick.  She
learned how to use her internal muscles to milk him, and after she'd cum,
she'd sit, outwardly immobile, except for the writhing of her belly
muscles, until she felt him swell inside her.  Then she'd sit as hard as
she could, to take his spray as deeply up inside her as she could get him.

   For Gabby, it was different.  She loved being crushed, lying helplessly
beneath him as he thrust and ground and pounded her.  Each time she felt
him cum, she wrapped her long, slim legs around him, pulling him hard
against her.

   Both girls slept with him at night, and it took a full week before he
wasn't wakened by one, or both of them, multiple times a night.

   Bob wasn't their parent, or legal guardian, and Deliah couldn't get up
and go with them to the doctor.  When Bob insisted on using a condom, a
week into their new relationship, he managed to do that twice - once with
each of the girls.  Neither of them was interested in being fucked by a
sheathed prick, and both of them complained so much that he gave in.  After
two weeks, with another week to go before they left on tour again, Bob
simply cut them off.  He didn't intend to, but it worked out that way.

   "You have a week to get ready for the concert schedule," he said.  "I
don't want you going out on tour completely satisfied." He put a serious
look on his face.  "Besides that, you're getting more fertile by the day.
If you won't let me protect you, then you'll have to go without."

   The girls simply said they'd wait until they could have him au naturale.

   Deliah, of course, knew what was happening.  She didn't ignore her
girls' sexual needs any more.  Now, they talked to her about everything
they did with Bob.  She coached them, both to help them please themselves,
and to help them please Bob.  She also talked with Nancy during that last
week.

   "My girls are growing up, and there will be men hovering all around
them," she moaned.  "I need to get them on the pill, but I can't take them
to the doctor."

   "You think they're sexually active?" asked the nurse.  Everyone behaved
themselves when Nancy was around.  They practiced behaving themselves, for
the very reason that they knew their secret love must remain a secret.

   "They will be soon," said Deliah, telling herself that was, technically,
true.  As soon as they went on tour, they'd start playing with Bob, before
and after they played for the audiences.

   "I'll talk to Doctor Kimble and explain things," said Nancy.

   In fact, the next time Doctor Kimble came to the house to check on
Deliah's progress, he called the girls into her room and did an exam on
them both.  Then he wrote the prescriptions.  He warned them that they'd
need to be on the medication for a month before it provided the best
protection, and reminded them it didn't protect them from disease.  Both
girls had no trouble blushing.  He was the first man besides Bob to ever
touch them intimately.

   "We're not planning on doing anything," lied Gabby, her face completely
straight.

   "I've heard that before," said the Doctor, smiling gently.  He thought
about what he'd seen between their legs.  They were already sexually
active, and it was quite obvious to a man of his training.  Because of
that, he went on.  "Quite often while I'm in the delivery room, I hear
that."

   "Listen to him, girls!" said their mother stridently, playing her role
as a concerned parent.

   ===========================================

   Deliah planned tours so that the girls would only be away from home for
two weeks at a time, with at least three weeks rest time between
engagements.  That kept them fresh, and gave them time to learn and perfect
new pieces.

   It also gave Bob time to recover.

   Before a concert, he lavished oral attention on the girls' nipples,
necks and pussies.  He brought them close, but not quite to orgasm.  Then
they went out on stage and, horny as a three antlered moose, they used all
that sexual energy to drive their audiences almost crazy.  Gone were the
days of diddling themselves in the dressing room afterwards, though.  Now
they had to deal with the media, and fans, many of them young girls, who
were drawn to classical music merely by the fact that these two girls,
whose pictures began to pop up in magazines as "The Hot New Music Legends",
exposed them to a new kind of music.  Sometimes, these young girls brought
their boyfriends with them, and Daphne and Gabriella got a taste of being
flirted with.  They flirted back, always with an eye toward their uncle,
who was sure to be extra attentive to them in the hotel room afterwards.

   They took their pills diligently, and then did their best to overpower
those pills by trying to milk Bob's scrotum bone-dry.

   Bob fought back.  He stretched his lovemaking out as long as he could,
bringing the girls to three and four orgasms, before finally giving them
what they wanted almost more than those orgasms.  He enforced the previous
rule about no sex except on performance days, and taught the girls how to
sleep with him without demanding that he stroke their pussies with his hard
cock.  He found that, when he did that, their anticipation of performance
days had them almost horny enough to do a concert without being touched.

   One enterprising reporter learned that the three of them stayed in the
same hotel room, and asked about it after a concert.

   "We feel safer with Uncle Bob there," said Gabby, smiling.  "We like
boys a lot, and sometimes playing gets us kind of wound up, so it's better
if he's there to keep an eye on us."

   That made major headlines in the tabloids.

   "Child Prodigies Interested in SEX!" screamed one headline.

   "Uncle Guards Honor of Beautiful Performers!" shouted another.

   All the press coverage simply encouraged some people to attend the kind
of concert they might not have thought about going to before.  They found
that the music left them breathless and, sometimes, they got a dose of
something wild and rollicking during a bluegrass encore.

   Their bluegrass encores were becoming almost as famous as the girls
themselves.  The performers were adept at sensing what kind of encore the
audience was most likely to enjoy, and it wasn't always back home music. 
Sometimes, they got a request from the venue, or the audience itself, and
they began practicing various fiddle pieces to use in situations where they
were requested.  They were trashed in one Nashville music publication for
playing bluegrass, whereupon a group of five of the most famous bluegrass
personalities held a press conference giving the girls their seal of
approval, and inviting the girls to come play with them any time they
wanted to.

   Upon their return from the second tour overseen by Bob, Deliah was up
and walking around, albeit with crutches.  She looked more robust, and was
sleeping in her own bed again.  Home health care still stopped in to assist
with laundry and check on her, but their visits were now only an hour or
two, and ceased altogether when her daughters got back from their second
European tour.

   Once all the news was caught up on, Bob said he was going home.

   "Oh," said Deliah, softly.  "I was hoping you'd stay here tonight."

   "They almost wore me out, big sister," he grinned.  "Your plan worked
better than you might have hoped."

   "Almost wore you out," Deliah repeated.  "How do you feel about it ...
now that you've ...  tried it?"

   Bob looked at the woman, standing on crutches in front of him.  The
girls had gone to shower and change clothes after their long trip home.

   "How do you think I feel?" he asked.  "They're gorgeous, and young, and
full of energy, and they both love sleeping with me.  I'm only a man, Dee."

   "I expected them to look ...  different, somehow," said Deliah.  "I mean
I know what they've been doing with you, but they just look like my
daughters."

   "They're the same girls they were when they left," said Bob, shrugging.

   "Do you really have to go home tonight?" asked his sister.  "I missed
you almost as much as I missed them." She stood up on her good leg,
swinging the one still in a light cast back and forth.  "I'm much better
now, Bob."

   "I need a shower," said Bob.

   "We have one," said Deliah.

   "Right now it's full of two naked girls," he smiled.

   "Tell them to leave you alone.  It's my turn," she said.

   "I guess I could leave the mail until tomorrow morning," he sighed,
trying to make it sound like he was heavily burdened.

   She looked a little hurt, and he used his hands, palms up, raising and
lowering them, as if they were weight scales.

   "Let's see," he said, looking at her.  "Go home and check mail?" He
lowered one hand and raised the other.  "Or, stay here and make love with a
beautiful woman, whom I adore." His hands reversed, and the hand that had
been high sank until he had to bend his knees.

   "Thank you," she said, already beginning to flush.

   ===========================================

   When Bob slipped into the bathroom, both girls were standing in front of
the mirror, naked, drying their hair.  Daphne turned to look at him.

   "I thought you were complaining that we never left you alone." she said,
smiling.

   "I'm here to get clean for your mother," he said.  "She says it's her
turn, and for you two to keep your hands off of me."

   "Is that so?" responded Gabby.  "And who does she think she is?"

   "She thinks she's the third woman in my little harem," said Bob,
dropping his clothes.

   He stepped into the shower and relaxed under the warm water.  When he
got out, they were still there, waiting for him.

   "You're not hard," commented Daphne.

   "Give an old man a break," he said.  "I'll get there."

   "She needs you hard, not all floppy and useless like that," sniffed
Daphne.  "We'll get you ready."

   "I don't think that's a good idea," said Bob, grinning.  "You want me to
last long enough to satisfy her ...  don't you?"

   Gabby swayed over to him and held his penis in her hand, looking
straight into his eyes.

   "You are a little quick on the trigger sometimes, cowboy ...  I'll admit
that ...  but we always play so much better when you get us ready.  I think
it's only fair that we get you ready.  Then, maybe, you will do much better
too."

   "I'm not sure it actually works that way," said Bob.  "At least not for
me."

   "We'll see," said Gabby.  "You're going to stay the night, aren't you?"

   Bob sighed.  "I suppose so, but you two have to leave us alone."

   "When have we ever asked you for anything?" asked Gabby in a little girl
voice.  She grinned.

   ===========================================

   They stayed naked, and pulled him, also naked, to their mother's room,
presenting him to an already naked and very embarrassed Deliah.

   "We got him ready for you, Mommy," said Daffy.  "Just like he gets us
ready to play music."

   "Thank you girls," said Deliah, staring at his stiff prick.  "I think I
can take it from here."

   "Have fun," said the girls, in concert.  They turned and ran out of the
room, giggling.  They left the door open.

   "I should close that." said Bob, looking over his shoulder.

   "You should already be over here with me," sighed Deliah.  "I'm so
excited I feel like I'm their age again."

   Ten minutes later, Deliah showed him just how much strength she'd gotten
back, as she strained up against him.

   "No wonder they play so beautifully," she panted.  "You're very good at
this."

   "I've had lots of practice, lately," he panted back.

   "I feel like a violin," she gasped, "being played by a master."

   "You'd better make more noise then," breathed Bob, going in deep and
rubbing her clit with his pubic bone.  "My bow is about to need its strings
replaced."

   "Are you going to cum in me, Bob?" she gasped, writhing harder.  "Are
you going to try to make me pregnant, like you did to my little girls?"

   "I tried really hard," he gasped, "but you put them on the pill,
remember?"

   "Oh, Duke," she moaned.  "I should have gotten some for me too, huh?"

   Bob grunted and lost it.  She hadn't told him to take it out, so he
didn't.  He sank in and his prick exploded, soaking her sex with his seed.

   "I should have done this with you years ago," she panted, feeling the
warmth of his spend in her belly.  "I've always wanted more children."

   =========================================

   Bob had thought he was tired, and he was amazed at how refreshed he felt
after he'd collapsed beside her and cuddled with her for a while.

   "You're really not on the pill?" he asked, tracing a finger around one
fat nipple.

   "I thought about it," she said softly.  "I should have asked you before
I let you cum in me, but I love you so much, I don't care if I get
pregnant." She looked at him, looking at her.  "Actually, that's not
accurate.  I do want to have another child.  My girls are about grown, and
if you're going to be out on tour with them, I could stay here and raise
another one."

   "You actually WANT me to get you pregnant?" he asked, his eyebrows
rising.

   "I do," she said, looking him straight in the eye.  "How do you feel
about that?"

   Bob thought for a few seconds.  He'd always wanted to get married, not
just for the sake of "getting married", but to have a partner who would be
committed to him for life and be a mother for his children.  That hadn't
happened, and he thought it was just fate, or maybe because he hadn't met
the right woman yet.  Now, it appeared he'd always had his life partner ...
but just hadn't known it.

   "If you're sure about this," he said slowly, "then who am I to hold you
back from a dream?" He looked down.  "My little buddy seems to like the
idea."

   Deliah lifted her head as he rolled away from her, exposing his penis to
her gaze.  He wasn't rock hard, but he was hard.

   "Ohhh Bob," she moaned, and rolled on top of him.

   ==============================================

   Deliah laid her soft breasts on his chest as she maneuvered to get her
brother's stiff prick in her famished pussy once again.  Once there, she
sat up awkwardly, because of her cast, and let her body weight drive the
tip of his penis into her cervix.

   "Ahhhhhhh" she groaned, looking up.  H"You just have no idea how long
I've wanted to feel that."

   "I never knew," he said, mauling her breasts and tweaking her nipples
gently.

   "You were blind," she panted.  "And I didn't want to lose you, if the
idea disgusted you."

   "I'm anything but disgusted," he said.  "It's kind of weird, thinking
about making a baby in you, but I love you, and I love to see you like
this."

   "You don't think I'm perverted to want my own brother's baby?" she
asked, rocking slowly.

   "I'm a man.  The idea of making babies comes naturally to us guy types.
Why do you think I was trying so hard not to be around Gabby and Daffy?"

   "You want to make them pregnant too?" she asked, moving faster.

   "Desperately," he admitted.

   "You know," she began to pant.  "I still played when I was pregnant with
them."

   "You weren't playing in front of thousands of people," he reminded her.

   "Yes, but I played better then than I did when I was just ...  playing.
I think it was because I was playing for them while they were inside me."

   "Don't tell me you want me to knock your daughters up, so they can play
even better," he groaned.

   "They're too young," she said, thrusting harder on him.  "But in a
couple of years Gabby won't be."

   "You're as crazy as they are," he panted, feeling her pussy start to
flutter and squeeze his prick.

   "I'm crazy for this," she groaned, cumming hard.

   When, a minute later, as she rested on him and milked him with her pussy
and he fountained up into her, she leaned over and let her hair tickle his
face.

   "And I'm crazy for that too," she whispered.

   ==============

   The girls' career took off like a rocket.  They made a Bluegrass album,
and three classical music albums.  As might be expected, the bluegrass sold
better, but all of them did well.  When, eight months and three tours
later, they began making a second bluegrass album, six nationally known
artists got together and asked if they could do a cameo appearance on that
CD.  By the time they were done, the cameo appearance had turned into six
songs, three of them newly written specifically for that group.  It sold
two hundred and forty thousand copies within the first three months after
it was released.

   The girls concentrated though, on their normal duets.  That was what was
in demand from concert goers around the world.  They played in Asia, and
Africa and South America, as well as Canada.  They went back to Europe four
times in the next two years.

   Then a concert in Saudi Arabia was cancelled at the last moment, when
religious authorities insisted that the girls wear scarves to cover their
hair.  The girls might have been experienced in music, but being
politically correct wasn't their strong point.

   "That's not how we play," said Gabby, who had grown two inches, and
finally had breasts under her clothing she was no longer insecure about.

   "It is a requirement," said the gray-robed Mullah who had met them for
their practice session.  "It would be immodest to appear otherwise.  Our
religion demands it."

   The girls promptly cancelled the concert.  It almost caused an
international incident, until the girls reminded the American Attaché that
they were Americans, were not Muslim, and would not take on a Muslim
appearance, because it wasn't honest.  He tried to explain that it was
merely a custom, but the girls, whose knowledge of world affairs was more
extensive than most young women their age, didn't buy it.

   "We play music," said Daphne.  "We don't make religious or political
statements, and don't bow to political demands.  If they don't want us the
way we are, then they don't want us."

   In the end, the Saudi Government tried to get payment for violation of
the contract, but it was pointed out that no requirement for veiling was IN
that contract so it was the Saudi Government who had broken the contract,
and not the girls.  When the tabloids tried to make it look like the girls
were biased against Muslim audiences, they held a press conference.

   "All Muslims, and anybody else on the planet, are welcome at our
concerts," said Gabby, standing tall and proud.  "We don't care what the
religious and political convictions of our listeners are.  That's their
business.  The conditions under which we play is OUR business.  If they
want to hear us play, all they have to do is come to a concert in some
country that allows us to be ourselves, and play the way we have always
played."

   "When you were in Japan you wore kimonos," shouted one reporter.

   "A kimono is a costume, like any other dress," said Daphne, stepping
forward.  "They didn't require us to wear them.  We chose to do that
because they were beautiful, and because it was fun to be different. 
That's the same reason we wore Saris in India too, just in case you're
wondering."

   "What's the difference between that and wearing a head scarf?" asked the
insistent reporter.  "That's what all the women in the audience would be
wearing in a Muslim country!"

   "A hijab is not merely an item of clothing," said Gabby, taking over. 
"In Muslim society, it carries a specific connotation of modesty, privacy
and morality.  Wearing that for reasons other than what it embodies would
be like someone who is not a Christian wearing a cross.  It isn't polite,
and it doesn't mean what the symbol is intended to mean.  It ...  isn't ...
honest," she said, spacing the words out for emphasis.  "If they are
ashamed to look at us the way we are, then they can listen to our music on
a CD.  We have several available," she said with a slight grin.

   "So you won't wear it because you're not private or moral," said the
reporter, trying to create a sensational response.

   Daphne stepped to the microphone.

   "Are you married?" she asked.

   The reporter looked confused, but then nodded his head.

   "When was the last time you slept with a woman you're not married to?"
she asked sweetly.  "When was the last time you looked at a woman you're
not married to, and lusted after her?"

   The man flushed, his face taking on a blotched appearance.

   "You don't have to answer that.  It's none of our business," said
Daphne, before he could respond.  "And our morality is none of your
business, nor anybody else's.  We play music.  You can listen to it, or
not, as you desire.  The rest of our life is our business, and we don't
make statements about that, either by voice, or wearing religious clothing
that is not part of our own religious beliefs."

   That ended the press conference, but of course it didn't end the
controversy.  It didn't hurt the girls' concert schedule either, and record
sales went up.  Further negotiations, offered by countries in the Middle
East, were politely declined, even when the offer of payment went through
the roof.  That got leaked to the press too, and they were asked about it
at an after-concert press meeting.  Gabby simply said "Their standards are
important to them.  We understand that, because our standards are important
to us.  Our intent is only to play music, not stir up turmoil.  We're quite
aware of how those governments feel about us, regardless of what they say
in public, and we wouldn't want to offend anyone."

   ===================================

   During the next year, the girls set up an informal schedule to spend
what they called "bedtime" with Bob.  Deliah got pregnant within three
months of beginning to make love with Bob, and, after that, while they
watched their mother's belly begin to bulge and grow, they actually limited
their exposure to his dangerous sperm.  Each girl claimed one night per
week, to spend with Bob in bed, so that it no longer seemed "routine" to
lie with him.  The exception was performance nights, when both slept with
him after they had made music.  He still maintained his apartment, and
spent two or three nights there each week.  On nights when he stayed with
Deliah and the girls, and it wasn't one of the girls' bedtimes with him, he
slept with Deliah.

   When Deliah delivered a little boy, perfectly healthy despite her
relatively advanced age, life in the house adapted almost effortlessly as
the girls took on natural roles as assistants to their mother.  He was
named Sheridan, a Gaelic name meaning long-lived treasure, and his sisters
treasured him as much as his mother and father did.  He was an active child
who, when he could stand, wanted to stand all the time, especially when he
was supposed to be going to sleep.  His sisters soon learned that violin
music would get him to lie down and coo, until he fell asleep.

   Gabby's eighteenth birthday was actually relatively subdued in terms of
the celebration.  She said she didn't feel any different, and the girls had
taken on adult roles years before, so she said it was no big deal.  Three
months later, though, hearing Gabby playing her cello, Bob went into the
studio.  He found her with a pillow strapped to her waist, trying to play a
difficult riff on her instrument.

   "What's this all about?" asked Bob, smiling.

   "I'm trying to figure out if I can play this thing pregnant," she said,
her eyebrows crinkling in a slight frown.

   "You thinking about getting pregnant?" he asked.

   "I don't have to think about it," she said calmly.  Her eyes fluttered
at him.

   Her meaning was obvious, and it took Bob completely by surprise.

   "You're kidding," he gasped.  "How did THAT happen?"

   "It happens frequently when a woman stops taking her birth control
pills," said Gabriella, pulling the cello harder against the pillow.

   "You didn't tell me that!" he yelped.

   "I didn't want it to affect your ...  performance," she said sweetly.

   "What will Dee say?" he moaned.
   "She suggested I try the pillow," said Gabby, smiling
