"Did you read about the people down in Dade County, Mother?" Sharon asked.
"No, dear," said the beautiful little woman. "what about them?"
"They're rioting and some of them are dead. No money, no jobs, no food. And just look at us. We have all this, and for what?" Sharon looked down from atop the massive staircase. "I've heard of people showing off -- five-hundred-dollar millionaires, they call them -- but this is insane! If the Washington economists are searching for where all the money in the country has suddenly disappeared to, they ought to look right here! It's disgusting and ridiculous.
"Everything to you lately is ridiculous, Sharon. Isn't it beautiful, though?"
It was beautiful. Gorgeous, in fact, Sharon had to admit. Gorgeous and gaudy. The huge reception hail of their house, spreading out below them, was like something out of The Student Prince. All it needed was the opera star, Pavarotti, standing in its center, wearing knee-length britches and singing his heart out. Sharon's own life had become something like a fairy-tale opera since Uncle Nate had moved them all into this beautiful monster of a house.
Uncle Nate. Sharon rolled her eyes in helpless disgust. She could not bear to look at the little man who, after many years of wandering the face of the earth, his existence all but forgotten, had returned to the bosom of his family with more money than sense, in Sharon's considered opinion; and the dimensions of his family having with the passing years been reduced to one member, her mother, he had proceeded to turn that little woman into a complete idiot with his seemingly inexhaustible largesse.
Sharon's wide mouth settled into the sardonic lines that were becoming a habit of late. Below her the great hail was empty and not a sound of life could be detected anywhere. Behind and around her, all the doors to bedrooms and sitting rooms were discreetly closed, except her own. The wide stairway looked cold and endless and the front door a mile away. She was tempted to give a shout and stir up echoes from the great domed ceiling, but resisted. She had tried it before and almost created bedlam among her mother and sister and the entire staff of servants. She had enjoyed it, but at the moment was not in the mood for such childish pranks. After two months' residence in this mausoleum of 'a house, her sense of humor failed her at times.
"Ridiculous," she repeated aloud, and suiting protest to action, she ran down the long stairway, skidded across the gleaming rotunda floor and escaped through the front door.
Manicured lawns with decorous shrubbery and precisely spaced trees did nothing to ease her restless mood. Disgruntled, she wished herself back where so short a time ago they had lived in more or less contented sanity, instead of making great fools of themselves up here on Skyline Drive, where only the very best people of the town dared to breathe.
Ungrateful. It was her mother's most persistent definition of Sharon now, and the girl did not refute it, but no amount of argument could change her attitude toward the whole thing. It was ridiculous. The Parkers did not belong on Skyline Drive. High above the town, it lay against gentle hills in a quarter-moon curve that accommodated less than a dozen beautiful mansions in immaculate quiet. It 'was the quiet, more than anything, that made Sharon feel frantic. It was almost impossible to believe that behind the blank facade of these fine houses any life -- breathing, thinking, moving life -- existed at all. Even the Talmadge mansion at the north end of the curve, where her brother and sister-in-law lived, bore no evidence of youth within its stately walls.
Sharon scuffed her feet to destroy for a moment the perfection of grass too green and too preciously untrodden, and thought about her sister-in-law Lorraine, who was the real reason why she was here, and not happy as a lark on old Tiger Tail Road. Ever since her brother Dwayne had married Lorraine and moved into the Talmadge mansion, her mother had died a thousand deaths of frustration and jealousy, until Uncle Nate had appeared on the scene and with a wave of his magic wand transported the rest of the Parkers to the hill.
Uncle Nate. Again the thought of him made her roll her eyes helplessly. She had as little to do with him as possible, but he did rather haunt her mind. In some ways he seemed as much a victim of all this as she was herself, but that did not change the fact that, along with Lorraine, he had ruined her life.
"Sharon, for heaven's sake!" Behind her, the front door opened a few inches and her sister's voice hissed out at her. "Sharon, get in here -- this minute!"
Sharon did not bother to turn. "What's up?" she shouted.
"Sh -- " The door closed sharply.
Sharon's laughter echoed down the quiet drive. She just had to say it again, loud and clear. "Ridiculous!" And in her mind she could see her sister Debbie scuttling away from the front door, terrified that the butler would appear out of nowhere and catch her opening her own front door.
If only, Sharon thought, her mother and Debbie could see how ridiculous it was. There was always something both pitiful and contemptible about social climbing. If one were not a Lorraine Talmadge Parker, born to Skyline Drive and all it typified, there surely could be little happiness in coveting a like position. While it was true that Skyline Drive in recent years had seen a small influx of families not born to the cloth, as it were, it had to be obvious to all such intruders that they never quite made it. The Talmadges, Roths, Huntleys, and Kingsleys -- the four first families -- remained aloof, and all that was left to the intruders was to band together in false pretense that no line separated the two factions.
A rueful little smile touched Sharon's lips. Her brother's marriage to a Talmadge had started the whole thing, and yet it was not fair to blame Lorraine, who was, in Sharon's opinion, not a bad sort. Sharon liked her, but with certain reservations. Anyone who could have so blindly married Dwayne Parker just had to be suspect in the brain department. Sharon had no illusions about her brother. Shallow, vain, and circumventive, Dwayne had married Lorraine because he was tainted by social ambitions and the Talmadges were the first family of Brookings.
Lorraine loved Dwayne. To Sharon, this was the mystery of the century, and had quite convinced her that love was wholly blind and for herself a thing to be carefully avoided. Not that she had much to worry about on that score. At nineteen, Sharon was not besieged by suitors and had, in fact, never had any boy or man interested in her past a first or second date. She scared them off, her mother said. She just did not have what it took, her always popular and now married sister declared.
Sharon shrugged. Nothing about marriages of either her sister or brother was particularly conducive to envy on her part. She liked her brother-in-law Hermie, but considered him a weak character to have let Debbie talk him into moving into the Skyline mansion. Sharon did, on the whole, find her in-laws much more likable than any member of her own family. Lorraine was rather fond of her, she believed, and Hermie, at least, had no foolish social ambitions.
Bored by the monotony of her thoughts and surroundings, Sharon listlessly returned to the house, climbed the great stairway and sought her own suite of rooms. Once there, she stood looking about her with a sadness of appreciation.
The very best decorators available had wrought their skill upon every inch of the house and there was no denying the flawless results. It was perhaps the very flawless aspect of it all that moved Sharon to protest. From time to time, she tried to bring life into her own quarters by scattering her belongings, knocking cushions to the floor, moving a chair or kicking a rug, but the moment her back was turned one of the innumerable servants restored order, and had done so now in her brief absence.
She went to a window and stood looking down at the parklike design of the rear gardens, at the curved edge of the still-life swimming pool, and far down to where the grounds sloped in an almost imperceptible hollow at the foot of the gentle rise of hills. Her eyes came to rest upon the brick chimney of the gardener's cottage that nestled in the hollow, and a great yearning went through her. Just so had the chimney of the old house on Tiger Tail Road blended its faded brick-red with the green of fine old trees.
A movement caught her eye, and she pulled open the window and leaned forward. There was no mistaking the short, stout build of Uncle Nate, but just where was he headed? Well, I'll be, she thought in surprise. So that's where he disappears to from time to time! Wouldn't Mother and Debbie just die if they knew their roly-poly benefactor was consorting with the hired help?
Animation did wonderful things for Sharon Parker's face. More handsome than pretty, in repose her face looked plain and almost ill-natured, for she had a pronounced scowl and a stubborn chin; but now her fine gray eyes and mischievous grin lit her features with unexpected warmth and beauty. Since Uncle Nate took no part in the domestic order of the house, leaving all such affairs to his sister and the worthy housekeeper, Mrs. Upstead, the beeline he was making to the gardener's cottage deserved investigation.
Never one slow to act, Sharon moved swiftly now and without plan. Leaving the window and the door to her room open, she raced down the wide stairway and ducked under the balcony. Searching by a circuitous route to find the house's rear entrance, Sharon passed through the big kitchen and gave a quick wave to the servants -- Brownie, Rosie and Sally.
Fortunately, all were too busy for a chat and Sharon was able to continue on her way. The beautiful brunette went out the back way and began to stroll through the woods.
"Wonder what Uncle Nate was doing sneaking around in the woods," Sharon giggled. "Maybe he was heading for a romantic rendezvous?"
The young girl giggled some more, unable to picture her uncle as a bed-hopping bachelor. For one thing, he was almost middle-aged.
"Give me a young man every time," the teenager murmured. "They can go the distance."
As Sharon sat down by the edge of a sparkling, secluded pond, a recollection flooded her mind that contradicted what she'd just said. She remembered Mr. Stone, the family lawyer who was in his late forties. He certainly hadn't lost any of his manly potency.
"That's for sure," Sharon whispered, blushing. "In fact, he just about wore me out!"
The girl stretched out on the grassy bank, allowing the memory to return. A year ago, soon past her eighteenth birthday, Sharon had to go into town to see Justin Stone in order to find out how certain money matters affected her now that she was no longer a minor. It had been a curious meeting. She was aware of the lawyer's avid interest in her physical features -- and she noticed what a handsome, husky man he was -- yet there wasn't the hint of a pass.
Until two weeks later, that is. Stone had called, asking her to return, there were a few details he'd forgotten. In a frisky mood that day, the voluptuous teenager decided to wear a skirt slit up the thigh and a low-cut blouse. As events were to prove, the girl had not fully estimated the handsome mans s virility.
The business they had to deal with took only a few minutes. Sharon was confused because it didn't seem there was enough to do to warrant her coming. Instead, she entertained herself with thoughts of Stone's sexual prowess. To her surprise, she found herself getting turned on by the husky lawyer.
"Well, I guess I'll go now," she said, standing up and feeling a blush spread over her face, caused by unexpected desire.
Stone stood up and came around to the front of his desk. "There's no need to hurry off, Sharon," the lawyer said. Then his voice grew slightly hoarse. "I must confess that since our last meeting I've thought of nothing else but you."
"Wh-what do you mean?" the girl stammered.
"I'll tell you," he replied in a gruff voice with a hint of pleading in it. "Maybe you don't know that my wife is frigid. She dislikes sex, thinks it's sinful. And for a healthy man like myself, that's torture. Now do you get my meaning?"
"I ... I guess I do." Sharon was shocked by his implication, yet a stirring in her loins told her she wasn't too shocked to leave. ''I'm sorry about your situation."
"Maybe you could be more than sorry," the lawyer said, stepping close to her. "Maybe you'd like to help me out."
Sharon's generous heart went out to the handsome man -- and as her sympathy increased, so did the vibrant stirring between her legs. She nodded slightly, mesmerized by his virile presence, and he threw his strong arms around her.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed. "I've got to have you or I'll go mad. Don't deny me!"
"No, no, of course not!" the teenager cried, filled with sympathy and increasing desire. "I want you ... I want you to take me ... right here!"
Throwing her inhibitions to the winds, Sharon pressed up against the shuddering, powerful man. Searing jolts of heat lightning went through her trembling body as she pushed her barely concealed breasts into his sturdy chest. The recently ignited fire between her thighs became a blaze of consuming passion.
"Oh, Mr. Stone, yes ... yes, I'll do whatever you want ... oh, you're so strong," she cooed.
The curvaceous girl kicked her shoes off and got up on her toes to rub her crotch against the expanding bulge between his muscular legs. The lawyer's hands reached down and hitched up her skirt, and at this signal Sharon hopped up and wrapped her long, slender legs around his hips.
"Oh, Jesus, Sharon, you're a hot little wildcat!" Stone groaned.
Spurred on by this compliment, the teenager bounced up and down, crushing her moistening mound against his throbbing manhood. She gyrated faster and faster, finding herself overwhelmed by the sudden arousal.
With a grunt, he broke free. "Not so fast ... I haven't ... done anything in so long!"
"Yes, I understand." Sharon stood on weak legs and a mischievous grin crossed her pretty face. "Don't worry, we'll go nice and slow."
Without hesitation, the shuddering lawyer began to disrobe. Sharon cooed with joy as more of his muscular build was revealed. When he was naked, her knees almost caved in at the sight of his long, rigid pecker. It pointed at her, thickening and lurching with vibrant potency.
"My God, Mr. Stone!" she exclaimed. "It's so big and ... shit, I want all of it!"
"You can have it, baby!" he suddenly roared. "Take your fucking clothes off!"
Fully releasing her body to take its own course, the flushed brunette practically tore her blouse off her back, revealing her large, heaving breasts. They were swelling and aching with need. She reached up and cupped the bulging orbs, tweaking the stiffening nipples between thumb and forefinger.
"More, damn it!" Stone bellowed. "Take it all off ... I want to see you naked!"
Releasing her boobs, Sharon readily complied with this urgent request. She slipped her skirt to the floor, and her damp panties instantly followed. She stepped out of the pile of garments and turned to drape them on the lawyer's desk. The oozing ache in her pussy made her head swim.
"Oh, Sharon ... lovely!"
Before the teenager could turn around, the husky lawyer was against her, pressing her against the desk. His hot, trembling hands came around to enclose her swollen jugs, his palms sensuously rubbing the stiff, rosy buds.
"Jesus, Sharon, you're more luscious than I dreamed," the lawyer cried hoarsely. "Two weeks ago, when I saw you ... I knew I had to have your body!"
"Yes, Mr. Stone, you have it now," the girl crooned, proud of her power to turn this dignified member of the community into a babbling idiot. "It's all yours ... do what you want!"
His hot, panting breath bathed her ear as his tongue licked her smooth white neck. Sharon gasped with awe as she felt his large, pulsing phallus rubbing between her slender thighs.
"You make me feel like an animal!" Stone roared.
Sharon felt herself being turned into a beast of lust as well and she loved every second of it. She spread her quivering thighs, allowing the lawyer's hot pecker to advance until it throbbed against her pink, steaming slit. He moved his spear back and forth, massaging the drooling portal.
"Ohhhhh ... Ahhhh!" she moaned, jolts of intense pleasure frazzling her nerve endings. "I'm getting so hot ... so fucking hot!"
Stone's expert manipulations quickly drove her into a frenzy. He moved his large prick back from her dribbling twat to slowly crawl along the damp crack between her soft ass cheeks. Meanwhile, his frantic massage of her swollen tits increased until she thought he would tear them from her chest!
"That's it, Mr. Stone!" she howled. "Pull my titties ... squeeze them hard!"
His fingers crawled forward until they took her two red, stiff nipples and lifted up her bulging breasts. Sharon nearly fainted with pleasure. Her knockers ached so much that she wished he had ten hands to massage them.
"God, Mr. Stone, do everything to me!" the lusty teenager shrieked.
She threw her hands down on the desk to brace herself as she began to ram her inflamed cunt back and forth along the length of his purple-veined shaft. His iron-hard nuts slapped her smooth ass cheeks. She glanced down, watching the purple cockhead appearing between her legs again and again. She desperately yearned to have the big piece of man-meat in her mouth -- but the pounding heat of her pussy was her first priority.
"Put your dick in me!" she squealed. "Do it ... fuck me silly!"
"Can't," the lawyer grunted. "I'll come right away ... got to make this ... take longer!"
"Do something, goddammit!" the girl screamed in a frenzy of need. "Use your fuck finger! Stick your finger in ... mmmeeeee!"
Stone released one swollen boob and stuck his hand between the girl's smooth, juice-coated legs. First he stroked her drooling slit, fully lubricating the long digit with syrupy fluid, then he moved his finger back until it touched the tiny, rubbery circle of her clenched asshole. Sharon yelped with pleasure as he rubbed the tiny orifice.
"That's it ... oh, God!" Sharon gasped. "Play with me ... shit, I love it!"
After another few seconds of lusty manipulation, the lawyer left her steaming anus to return his finger to her dripping twat. He slowly rubbed her slippery cunt lips, squeezing them together then prying them apart. Then he shoved his fingers into her hole, finding her engorged clit.
"Oooowweeeee!" Sharon squealed, her hands clawing at the desk. "Oh, my pussy ... Ohhhh!"
With three thick fingers embedded in her burning pussy, the teenager began to babble incoherently. Pressure mounted in her womb at an astronomical rate as she humped her cunt onto the fibrillating fingers.
"Yes, fuck me ... fuck me with your finger ... I'm going to ... oh, please, I'm so close ... ."
But the expert lawyer didn't want the young girl to come just yet. He withdrew his juice-coated fingers and they agonizingly returned to her steaming asshole. Since they were so well lubricated, he had no trouble inserting them into her rear canal.
"Ohhhh, Jeeesus!" Sharon howled. "In my ass? God, never ... oh, shit ... more, more!"
The frantic teenager thrust her asscheeks back and upward, swallowing his invading digits to the knuckles. She rammed her ass back again and again, repeatedly fucking herself with his stiffened fingers. Her fingers dug into the desk's hard surface and her red, lust-contorted face swung from side to side.
Then, to her intense disappointment, she felt the lawyer remove his prods. "No ... oh, please ... don't stop!" she begged. "I've got to have more!"
"Don't worry, baby," the husky man grunted. "You're going to get a lot more ... right now!"
His meaning quickly became apparent as his fingers were replaced by his throbbing tool against her quivering anus. Very slowly, Stone inserted his hard, dribbling tip into her tiny shit chute.
"Oh, my God ... it's so big!" Sharon screamed. "It'll never fit ... so big ... Ohhhh!"
"I'll make it fit, bitch!" Stone roared, beside himself with lust. "I'm going to stick it up your ass until it comes out your mouth!"
"Holy fuck!" the girl shouted. Then she threw herself at the lawyer's mercy. "Yes, shove your prod in ... let it come out my mouth ... then I can blow it while you hump me!"
Pleased by her quick acceptance of the situation, Stone's trembling hands parted the soft, lovely ass cheeks to fully expose her little opening. Sharon fell forward, crushing her large aching tits against the desk as she flung her long legs out behind her. Stone lined up his long spear, loving the way her rubbery opening grasped at his cockhead.
"Please, Mr. Stone ... don't wait!" Sharon howled. "Fuck my asshole!"
With steady, gradual motions, the powerful lawyer complied. He heaved forward, feeding inch after agonizing inch of pulsing dork into the teenager's ass. Sharon spread her legs wider and hitched her hips up to take in as much as he had to give. Her dripping pussy writhed against the desk's hard surface as her moist anus swallowed up every inch of his thick, throbbing meat.
"Eeeeeeeee!" she squealed, her asshole now fully filled with cock. "Eeeeeaahhh !!!"
"Yes, bitch. I'm going to fuck your asshole!" Stone bellowed. "Fuck ... fuck ... Fuck!"
With an increasingly frantic rhythm, the older man heaved back and forth, battering the tiny orifice with his thick rod. The sound of his cum-filled balls slapping against the girl's creamy ass cheeks reverberated through the office.
"Uuuunghgh! Ohhhhheeeehhhhh!" Sharon cawed like a crow as Stone impaled her against the desk. "Oh, fuck ... oh, shit oh, hump me!"
Driven beyond reason by the frantic ass fucking, the voluptuous teenager screamed obscenities as Stone's prick ravaged her inner depths. Pressure mounted to an excruciating level and she thrashed her ass up and down to increase the lewd friction.
Suddenly, Stone cried, "Oh, God ... Oh, Jeeeesus ... I'm coming ... I ..."
That signal also detonated Sharon's body. "Me, too ... me fucking toooo!"
Stone clutched the girl's hips and with one final lunge he buried his dick to the hilt in her ass. An instant later, a flaming torrent of spunk raced out of his embedded tool into the battered asshole.
"Goddddd! Aaarrrghghgh!!!" he howled.
Feeling her tiny hole inundated with hot, spewing cum, Sharon was swept away by her own red-misted orgasm.
"Fuck meeeee ... Eeeeeaaahhhhh! ! ! ! !"
The two lovers thrashed against each other as their bodies spun in a universe of total climax. Stone drained his nuts into the exploding girl, roaring his release to echo Sharon's orgasmic squeals.
Finally, their bodies spent and cum dripping down the girl's inner thighs, Stone withdrew his flaccid member and they collapsed to the floor, moaning with sexual contentment.
Now, a year later, sitting by the pond, Sharon quickly removed her panties and began to masturbate. Only the birds heard her ecstatic cries of release as she repeated the joy she'd felt in the lawyer's office.
Chapter Two
Sharon had not run directly to the cottage. Not plagued with shyness, she nevertheless found herself slowing to a stop as she approached the cottage grounds. She stood nicely shielded by high shrubbery, in a small quandary of indecision. She had no wish to embarrass her uncle or intrude upon the Harrows, and now the invisible line between mistress and servants held her in troubled abeyance. No matter how furiously she sought to ignore and deny it, the line was there. The Harrows would not refuse her admittance to the cottage, but might they not in their hearts resent her?
She tried to bring the couple to mind, but realized with a pang that she had never had any conversation with either John Harrow or his wife Beth. John was the head gardener and his wife, Sharon thought, had something to do with linens or general cleaning of the big house. John was tall and thin-looking; Beth was of medium height and rather plump. Further than this, Sharon's mind could not go. Oh, botheration, she thought. I can't just go barging in! I wonder how Uncle Nate managed it?
She kicked at the grass at her feet and felt lonely. The move to Skyline Drive had alienated her from her old friends in a subtle way she could not pinpoint. No matter how they tried or she tried, the specter of wealth interceded, and of late Sharon had begun to stay away from Tiger Tail Road. She felt herself a little lost between two worlds, a misplaced person through no fault of her own.
Now standing forlorn and helpless, she was on the point of retreat when Beth Harrow spied her and came toward her, at first frowning and then smiling. "Hello," she said. "Are you looking for your Uncle Nate?"
"Yes -- " Sharon bit down on her lower lip, angry with herself for seizing upon this pretext for her presence. "No, I'm not," she added bluntly. "I guess I'm just snooping. I saw him go into your house and I got curious.
Beth Harrow laughed softly. "Well, why not?" she asked. "Most of the staff are eaten with curiosity, too, Sharon. You don't mind if I call you Sharon, do you? Your uncle talks so much about you I feel I know you.
"He does? No, I don't mind at all. He does?" Sharon stared at the pleasant-faced woman, measuring her in swift appraisal. "I can't imagine why," she said. "He hardly knows me."
"Perhaps he'd like to." Beth took the girl's arm, turned her toward the cottage. "Do come in for a while, Sharon. John and I love company and have very little here. Have you ever seen inside the cottage? It's surprisingly roomy, and so comfortable."
Sharon let herself be guided, her mind busy with the thought that here at last was one servant who accepted her as an equal. "It's a pretty place, I think," she said gesturing toward the cottage. "Reminds me a little of our old place on Tiger Tail Road."
Beth Harrow's eyes narrowed perceptibly, but she made no comment. "John and Nate are at their eternal chess," she said; "so let's go in the back way. They hate being disturbed."
"Chess?" Sharon's eyes widened. "Uncle Nate?" Immediately, she felt silly parroting questions. "Oh darn," she said, "I must sound like an idiot. I don't know the first thing about Uncle Nate, Mrs. Harrow, and you might as well know it."
The woman's smile was not unsympathetic, but her tone held a trace of reproach. "He's well worth knowing," she said. "John and I have grown very fond of him."
Sharon gave her a sharp look. Some people did find it easy to be fond of anybody with money to burn. She felt oddly on the edge of tears, for her nature was not suspicious, and she was hungry for understanding. "Do you like it here?" she asked wistfully.
"Oh, very much. The work is pleasant and the cottage -- well, Sharon, we feel terribly lucky. My husband's health isn't what it should be so there are not too many jobs he can handle, but here in this beautiful place and not having much more than supervising to do, John is just in his glory. And I'm happy, too." She squeezed the girl's arm. "It's been a little lonesome without our son, Sharon, but things are picking up -- first Nate and now you."
They were entering the cottage and Sharon glanced about the pleasant kitchen. "Mmm -- nice," she said, then cocked her head at a sound from another room. "Is that Uncle Nate laughing?"
"Doesn't he have the most infectious laugh -- more like a chuckle? He's a darling, Sharon, and" -- Beth met the clear gray eyes and held them -- "he's lonesome. He wouldn't admit it, but he is, and it does seem a shame.''
"Mrs. Harrow" -- a scowl darkened Sharon's face and she looked away from the friendly brown eyes watching her -- "Maybe you don't understand him. He's the one who -- I mean, all this belongs to him. And, I for one didn't ask for it -- or want it."
Having now said what she had been longing to scream up and down Skyline Drive for too long, Sharon felt no relief, but instead felt herself lowered in the eyes of Beth Harrow. Mrs. Harrow had managed to wipe away the invisible line, but now it was back between them, or so Sharon thought, because it was plain that Beth Harrow was pretending not to have heard.
"We're expecting a visit from our son this coming week," she said blandly. "It's been over two months since we've seen him, so naturally we're excited. He's interning at the Alexander Fleming Memorial Hospital in Park City," she added in explanation.
"I've heard of it," Sharon said, not really listening.
"Yes, it's a fine hospital. We lived in Park City before we came here, to be near John, and that's why we're here -- to be near him when he finishes at Fleming and starts to practice here in Brookings." Beth moved about, preparing lunch with a casual air. "I hated leaving him so soon, but we got the chance at this job. A medical education costs so much, Sharon, but it will be worth it all when our Johnny is finally launched."
Sharon's interest was stirred, and she began to think that Mrs. Harrow had been discreet and not censorious in ignoring her remark. "I think it's wonderful of you to help your son," she said, and stared down at her scuffed shoes. "Is the work -- I mean, does old Uppity work you very hard, Mrs. Harrow? It doesn't seem right that you should have to -- "
Beth Harrow laughed. "Oh dear, you sound just like young John. 'My mother a cleaning woman,' he wails! I try to tell him there's nothing wrong with being a cleaning woman and I'm glad to be able to help. You see, Sharon" -- she smiled companionably at the girl -- "neither Mr. Harrow nor I have had much education and have felt the lack of it. The idea of our son becoming a doctor -- already being a doctor -- is a dream come true for us. And he's worked like a Trojan all these years. Such a good boy! We've been more than happy to help all we could." She laughed again. "I guess you can tell our son is our pride and joy, Sharon. I hope he gets to meet you when he comes next week. I think you'll like him, and he -- you."
Sharon's expression bordered on the sardonic. She could not work up much interest in this wonderful son of Beth's, but the idea that he would like her was rather farfetched. Men just didn't. She was too opinionated, too quick to argue and outwit them. "When is he arriving?" she asked, for something to say.
"Tuesday. Your Uncle Nate is coming to dinner to meet him, Sharon. I'd be pleased if you'd come, too. I've arranged with Mrs. Upstead for Tuesday and Wednesday off, which I appreciate. She's really a very nice woman once you get to know her."
Sharon grimaced. "She hates me," she said.
Beth tipped her head a little to one side, let her eyes run over the stubborn young face. "You're not very happy, are you, dear?" she asked. Then seeing Sharon's mouth grow vulnerable, she made a comical face and smiled. "You know, Sharon, you're really very like your Uncle Nate," she told the surprised girl.
Beth's tone had touched Sharon oddly and made her mind swing for a moment to her own mother, who was nothing like this gentle, humorous, and sensible woman. Now Sharon came to stand beside the woman and peer into her face. "I like you, Mrs. Harrow." she said earnestly. "I don't blame Uncle Nate for coming down here every chance he gets. Do you really think I'm like him? In what way? I don't really know him, you know."
Sharon sighed briefly. "Can I help?" she asked.
"Why, yes, you can set the table. We eat here in the kitchen."
"We always did, too, at home." Sharon smiled as she moved to obey. "I mean back on Tiger Tail Road, of course. I can't get used to the idea that that big old mausoleum is home."
"To tell the truth, Sharon, I'd rather have this cottage myself, but then, I'm a pretty ordinary housewife."
"I don't think you're ordinary at all, and that business about you not being educated -- you don't talk at all like Brownie and her crew."
Beth laughed warmly. "Well, thank you, Sharon. My husband and I have worked hard to learn our grammar for our son's sake. We just couldn't let our boy be ashamed of his old ma and pa."
"He'd be a real kook if he were. I think he's lucky to have a mother like you. I wish I did -- " Sharon frowned. It was just too easy to talk to this woman. "My mother's all right," she added quickly, not wanting to incur Mrs. Harrow's disapproval. "I'm really the bad one of our family," she confessed. "I just don't seem to know how to like the rest of them."
Beth was silent for a moment, then she sighed softly. "You are like your uncle," she said at last. "I hope you two become better acquainted, Sharon" -- she turned a troubled gaze on the girl. "He isn't very happy either. Things have not worked out as he hoped."
"What things?" Sharon's rancor for her uncle stirred. "Do you mean he's sorry he made a fool of us?"
Beth Harrow set a bowl of salad on the table with unnecessary force. "I've said more than I should already," she said snappishly.
"Oh, gosh,"' Sharon sat down abruptly. "Me and my big mouth," she mourned. "Don't be mad at me, Mrs. Harrow. I'm just kind of mixed-up anyhow."
"I'll call the men to lunch," Mrs. Harrow said, but her tone softened and she gave Sharon a troubled smile, patting her shoulder. "You poor child," she said, and left the kitchen.
Sharon sat slouched, half-tempted to rise and leave, but held by the hope of understanding in Beth Harrow's tone and eyes. And she really did not want to leave this kitchen, this cottage, that smelled of sweet domesticity and was snug in the warmth of human kindness. She felt lost and angry and at odds with herself, and most of all, she, wanted to be liked by Beth Harrow and feel at home again somewhere.
Uncle Nate came into the kitchen behind the Harrows, beaming to find her here. "Well, well, Sharon," he said, "what a nice surprise."
"Hi, Uncle Nate." She got to her feet awkwardly, wondering why she had never noticed how blue his eyes were. "Mrs. Harrow asked me to lunch," she said like a child.
John Harrow laughed gently. "I wondered how long it would take Mother to lure some young one to our door," he said, his own blue eyes twinkling.
Sharon tilted her head toward the tall man, deciding she liked him. "She didn't lure me," she said with a grin. "I just butted in."
Her uncle chuckled. "Ah, yes," he nodded, "it's what I did myself, Sharon, but these good folks don't hold it against us."
"Sit, sit, all of you," Beth Harrow ordered. "Nate, you old rascal, you know we love having you any time -- and Sharon, too."
"Now Mother will have an ally against the two of us, eh, Nate?" John Harrow laughed. "This uncle of yours," he told Sharon, "is quite a chess master. Keeps me on my toes!"
"I never could understand the game," remarked Beth. "And what gets me, Sharon, is that their games never seem to end."
Sharon was amazed at how quickly comfortable she was with them and with what ease the conversation flowed. Beth Harrow kept the talk quite cleverly away from the personal. Sharon decided that, education or no education, Mrs. Harrow certainly did not lack intelligence. The girl kept stealing looks at her uncle, although she avoided addressing him directly.
Uncle Nate was a rather comical-looking little man and yet rather handsome, she decided presently. His high color, and hair that stood up on his head in white tufts, stressed in an eye-catching way the hurting blue of his eyes. He had deep dimples in his otherwise amazingly unlined face. He's like a rosy cherub, she thought, or a roly-poly Santa Claus. This latter thought made her frown. After all, he was the cause of her disrupted life. Still, it was interesting to be looking at him and really seeing-him after months of going out of her way to avoid acknowledging his existence. And she liked the Harrows and they liked him. Sharon prided herself in her fair-mindedness. It was just possible that she would have to revise her opinion of Uncle Nate.
She talked and laughed and thoroughly enjoyed the lunch, but all the while her mind hummed with unanswered questions. Mrs. Harrow had said Uncle Nate was lonesome and that things had not worked out as he hoped. What had he hoped for? And why did he talk to the Harrows about her? Did he think her the ingrate her mother insisted she was? Why was he here in the gardener's cottage when he could be anywhere in the world he wished? And for that matter, why was she here? And why, why was she feeling the first little ripplings of happiness and hope she had not felt for too long?
Sharon was not one to let well enough alone. She had to have answers, but at the moment could not devise a method of approach to this little man she had, she supposed, treated with open contempt. Beth Harrow solved her problem neatly.
"John and I have to get back to work," she announced when the meal ended. "Your uncle always insists upon doing the dishes, Sharon. Would you like to stay and help him?"
Sharon hesitated, surprised to find herself shy, but John Harrow bridged the moment with laughter. "You'll get used to Mother before long, Sharon," he said. "In this house everyone sings for his supper, as Nate here has found out."
"Now, Dad, you stop that. Half the time Nate pushes me out of my own kitchen. He's quite a cook, did you know that, Sharon?"
Sharon shook her head, bothered by a small thrust of jealousy at her uncle's obvious popularity. To be liked by the Harrows became very important. "I'll sing for my supper any time you let me," she said, and for a moment her glance met Uncle Nate's eyes. "Do you want me to stay and help?" she asked.
He dabbed at his lips with his napkin while above its whiteness his blue eyes danced. "I'll wash, you dry," he said. "And you two run along. Together Sharon and I will have these dishes done up in no time."
Sharon's heart gave an odd leap.' What a nice word that was -- together. And what a nice way he was looking at her -- almost as if he liked her.
"Well, let's get at it," she said gruffly.
The Harrows left laughing, and the two behind them did not see the quick, pleased look they exchanged.
"I tell you, Dad," Beth Harrow said when they were alone, "that girl could be just what Nate needs, if she'd let herself."
You're a very conniving woman, Beth Harrow."
Beth laughed. "Oh, some people just need a little push," she replied in an offhand manner. "And I like Sharon. I don't think she's ever had any real mothering, the poor little thing."
"Well, you'll remedy that or my name's not John Harrow."
She made a face at his sly, teasing tone. "Oh, go tend your roses," she said. "I don't know which of you is the worse tease -- you or your son!" And although all she went forward to was endless cleaning of what she felt was a loveless house, she walked with the light step of a happy woman.
Chapter Three
"What do you suppose she's up to, Mother?"
Debbie Carlson swished about her mother's sitting room in a floor-length gown of shimmering blue and slightly muted gold the color of her beautifully coiffured hair. It was the following evening and she and her husband were about to leave for a formal party. She had stopped in at her mother's room to be admired before leaving, and the talk had turned to Sharon's strange behavior.
"It does seem odd that she's become so suddenly chummy with Nate," her mother said in answer, "but it's better than walking about glowering at everybody."
"I can't help feeling she's up to something," Debbie said. "You know she's full of tricks, Mother. Sometimes I think she just goes out of her way to embarrass us."
The mother sighed. Her younger daughter was an enigma to her and she had long ago given up trying to understand or control the girl, "Just don't worry about it, dear," she said. "It's better to have the two of them interested in each other than always underfoot. I get quite weary of Nate at times."
"I wish he didn't have such a common look about him."
"Common? Debbie, how can you say such a thing? The Dugalls are not and never have been common! My mother was a Lowell, remember?"
"I remember. Just the same, Uncle Nate isn't anything like you. No one would ever take him for your brother."
"Perhaps not. I'm more Lowell, I know, but we mustn't forget how good he's been to us. After all, dear -- "
"Oh, I know, I know. I just wish he'd look like a millionaire!"
"We're not sure he is," her mother reminded her. "Oh, I know people think so, but we're not sure. In any case, people accept him as an eccentric." She sighed again. "Eccentric millionaires are not uncommon, but like you, Debbie, I could wish he were more interested in cultural pursuits."
"Well, he's not going to improve by hanging around with Sharon!"
"You ready?" Herman Carlson knocked and entered. "It's after eight o'clock," he informed his wife.
Debbie laughed. "Hermie can't seem to understand that you just don't arrive on time at these affairs, Mother," she remarked, and gave her husband an inspective look. "You didn't get a haircut," she accused him.
"I don't need one. Come on, honey, let's get the show on the road." He stood, awkward in height and harassed of face, a decent young man in his late twenties who, after six years of marriage, nursed a bruised love for his wife that had turned once-merry brown eyes into tired orbs of hunger and disillusionment. "Aren't you going out tonight, Mother Parker?" he asked
"Not tonight. I'm expecting Dwayne and Lorraine over later."
"She turned down Gloria's invitation to the party tonight," Debbie said sharply. "I wish you'd say something to Dwayne, Mother. It's the second invitation in a row she's refused."
"I will, dear. I hope he comes alone tonight. Lorraine did tell Gloria that she isn't feeling well, didn't she?"
"So Gloria said, but she doesn't believe it, and neither do I. I think it's rotten of her and mean of Dwayne not to make her accept."
"I'll speak to him, dear. I'm sure he probably doesn't even know they were invited at all. Lorraine can be quite sneaky at times."
Not wanting an argument, Mrs. Parker quickly shooed the two out of her room. Finally alone, she thought fondly of her son -- maybe too fondly, because a familiar aching in her loins soon preoccupied her.
"Wish he would hurry up and get here," the attractive woman murmured. "And if his wife's not with him ... it'll be like old times!"
She remembered those old times -- exciting times that mother and son shared together. It was their secret, their hidden pleasure to enjoy each other fully. It was when the servants had begun to gossip that Dwayne had married Lorraine and moved away. Still, whenever they could get together ...
Mrs. Parker parted her robe, glad she had put nothing else on after her shower. She saw herself in a full-length mirror on the wall: she looked like a sister of Dwayne, not a mother with her full, firm breasts; slender legs, and smooth torso leading down to a delectably bushy mound. That mound was now aching with need and the hungry woman covered it with her hand and began a sensuous massage.
"Ooooh, Dwayne ... hurry, darling!" she gasped, her fingers becoming wet with flowing juices.
She tossed her robe open to fully expose her attractive, heaving body. Her legs crawled apart, offering her pink, dribbling slit to her twitching fingers.
"What if he's delayed?" she gasped. "I can't wait ... I need to come! Damn, I better masturbate or I'll be too far gone when he shows up!"
Thus resolved, the pretty mother went to work on her hot, aching cunt. One hand pried open her juice-soaked pussy lips while three fingers of the other hand slid up into her inflamed canal. They journeyed farther and farther up the well-trodden path until the probing digits filled up Mrs. Parker's womb.
"God, that's what I need!" she moaned. "I need to come so bad ... and my lovely fuck-fingers should do the trick!"
She bent her knees, digging her heels into the chair, and raised her hips up. As she did so, she managed to press another inch of fingers into her burning cuntal passageway.
"Oh, Lord, I'm so fucking hot! Dwayne! Dwayne!" Mrs. Parker mewled in a frenzy, imagining with lust the long, thick meat of her son's prick.
She began to thrust her hips up and down, repeatedly swallowing her stiff fingers. Syrupy juice flowed out of her drenched sex furnace and onto her hand, making it gleam in the lamplight. Her entire arm trembled and quaked from the increasing convulsions of her lust-ridden body.
"Ahhhhh ... Ohhhhh!" she moaned deliriously, her senses reeling in the face of coital pressure. "It's happening so fast can't stop ....
Frantic with the approaching orgasm, Mrs. Parker renewed her attack on her inflamed pussy while the middle finger of her other hand reached around to gently massage the rubbery entrance of her asshole. Soon her digits were attacking both openings with a steady rhythm, and she stuck her tongue out in frequently successful attempts to lick her stiff nipples
"Here I ... God, another few seconds ... can't control myself ... Eeeee!"
Just as satisfaction was about to be hers, a knock sounded at the door. Flustered, the older woman quickly tossed her robe together.
"C-come ... in!" she gasped.
Her face broke into a flushed grin when her handsome son entered the room. And a mischievous grin spread across his features when he recognized with familiarity his mother's condition.
Mrs. Parker couldn't waste time. "Oh, Dwayne, I tried to ... to wait for you ... but I couldn't ... I got so horny just thinking of you!"
"No problem, Mom, your dutiful son is here!" he called, advancing on the casually concealed woman.
She flung open her robe and spread her legs, offering her dripping, pink pussy to her son's feasting eyes.
"Thank God!" Mrs. Parker yelped. "Hurry, Dwayne ... get down here and lick your mother's twat!"
Though this development was rather sudden and he thought his mother was being randomly indiscreet, the young man realized she was at a stage where her intense need couldn't be denied. He kneeled down between her upraised legs and lowered his head until his nostrils were filled with the heady musk scent of flowing female juice.
"Hmmm ... you do seem pretty hot," he whispered.
"Shit, don't tease me!" Mrs. Parker howled. "Stick your tongue inside my pussy!"
Dwayne happily complied. His long licker rolled out and immediately loud slurping noises echoed in the room as he lapped up her warm, syrupy fluid. He rubbed his tongue lovingly along the shuddering twat lips, pausing occasionally to nibble at the succulent flesh. His lewd actions quickly drove the older woman into a frenzy of uncontrolled lust.
"Oh, Christ! Feels so good ... need it so bad!" his mother babbled. "More ... lick me more ... I'm almost there!"
Realizing that his mother was rapidly approaching the point of no return, Dwayne pried apart her grasping cunt lips and drove half his face into the steaming womb from whence he came, nibbling and licking as he advanced.
"Oooowweeee!" the mother shrieked, her face contorted and her eyes rolling in their sockets. "That's it ... eat me ... Fat me!"
Dwayne grabbed her widespread legs and forced his wet prod between her clenched cunt walls. His tongue invaded her inner recesses with rapid circular motions and he joyously drank in her cascading juices. His teeth ravaged the tender cunt meat until, for the coup de grace, he stiffened his member and began to bob his head back and forth.
"Oh, sweet Jesus!" his mother screamed. "I'm going to ... oh, God ... Aaaaiieeeeee! ! !"
His pistoning activity had the desired effect as Mrs. Parker's pussy exploded. She thrashed and writhed helplessly as her body convulsed with climax. She wrapped her smooth legs around her son's head and humped his bucking face until she fell into limp exhaustion.
"Ohhhhhh Goddddd ..." the older woman moaned, her twisted face gradually relaxing into a mask of contentment. "I was so hot.., so horny for you, Dwayne ... I couldn't help it."
"No problem, Mom. That's what family is for!" the handsome young man laughed.
He extricated himself from between his mother's firm, juicy thighs and stood up, his wet face gleaming in the lamplight. He became aware of the large bulge of his crotch. As usual, attending to his mother's needs had created a need within him. His mother lay naked before him and he wanted ... no, he couldn't, because ...
But Mrs. Parker had no excuses to thwart her reawakening desires. When she spied the twitching, throbbing movement between her son's legs, she sat up and licked her full, red lips.
"I'm glad you still come ... to your mother when you need help," she cooed, reaching up and touching the potent bulge.
Slowly, she drew his zipper down. "Oh, Lord, honey, it's been so long since you ... since I ... had your dick in my mouth!"
"Mother ... no ... we can't!" Dwayne groaned, in an agony of conflicting emotions. Soon the situation was straightened out for him as his large, pulsing phallus was released into the air and straightened out to its almost legendary proportions.
"Dwayne, my darling, you've still got the biggest cock I've ever seen!" Mrs. Parker crowed. "Seen ... or sucked!"
With this, the hungry woman flicked her tongue out and lightly touched his throbbing cockhead. As though he had stuck it into a wall socket, Dwayne jerked and writhed as thousands of jolts of hot pleasure shot through his nervous system.
"Ohhhh, Mother!" he moaned, gazing down at the manipulations of her tongue and the large, swollen jugs that were starting to rub against his legs. "No one ... sucks me off ... like you do!"
A mischievous grin lit up the beautiful older woman's face as her tongue began to slowly, agonizingly, rim the bulging head of his purple-veined member. There wasn't much in the world that thrilled her more than the heady taste of her son's prick, and he had plenty to offer for her feast. Saliva coursed out of her mouth and bathed the red pole with glistening wetness.
"Mother ... better not ..." her son groaned, though he didn't resist her advancing lips.
Mrs. Parker realized that maybe her son was hotter than she thought and that's why he was hesitating. She decided there was nothing wrong with that ... let him come right away if he wanted to! Thus resolved, the woman pressed her face forward, gobbling up all of his tasty meat.
"Ohhhhhhh!" Dwayne groaned as he lodged the length of his dick into his mother's face. "Feels so good ... love to get blown!"
Quickly, the young man was beside himself with lust-crazed madness. Occasionally he managed to get his timid wife to eat his wang, but it was nothing compared to the expert treatment his mother gave him. He reached down, grabbed the sides of her pretty head, and pumped his hard tip against the back of her throat.
"Guuullffff!" Mrs. Parker spluttered, swallowing up his oozing pre-cum.
"That's it, Mom!" Dwayne shouted. "Suck it ... eat my cock!"
This was more like it as far as the older woman was concerned. She clamped her drooling orifice around the embedded rod and vigorously sucked. Her smooth cheeks formed two inverted semi-circles and slurping noises filled the room. She kept her mouth clamped tight as her son's hips moved back and forth, withdrawing and inserting his pulsating pecker in a rapidly increasing rhythm.
"Yeah, Mom-bitch!" Dwayne bellowed, his breathing hoarse and labored. "Not much longer ... oh, Jesus, I'm getting there!"
He certainly was, as evidenced by the quick bucking of his hips that was soon a blur of lewd motion. He felt the hot, pent-up jism in his hard nuts swirling at rocket speed, making his groin ache with the profound need for a violent release of sperm.
"Let it go, honey!" Mrs. Parker cried. "Fuck my mouth ... shoot your load in my face!"
She reached around and grabbed his taut ass to add more force to his bucking hips. Her flushed face was battered by the merciless onslaught of his throbbing pork. Again and again and again Dwayne shoved all he had into his mother's accepting mouth.
"God, Mom ... oh, God ... oh, shit ... I'm going to ... can't hold back!" he screamed.
Mother and son were so occupied with their wanton activity that they didn't see the door open and Dwayne's wife enter the room. Lorraine stood transfixed, not believing what her eyes told her.
"Good heavens!" the young woman gasped. "This can't be happening ... Dwayne getting blown by his mother! And he looks like he's about to come ... right in her mouth!"
Yet in the next few seconds the pretty girl had no choice but to believe the astonishing sight. She was so shocked by this perversity that she couldn't move -- with lewd, blushing fascination, she watched the spectacle. And despite her modest inhibitions, she found herself ... getting hot!
"I must be just as depraved as they are!" Lorraine moaned. "Why ... didn't I ever blow Dwayne like that? Mrs. Parker sure seems to know the right way!"
This conclusion was confirmed several seconds later when Dwayne roared past the breaking point. His hips writhed and bucked out of control and he bellowed his release toward the ceiling.
"Mother ... oh, Jeeeesus ... I'm coming!" he howled. "Here I ... Aaaarrrgggg! ! !"
A microsecond later, he pumped his hips forward, completely burying his e
exploding tool, and blew a long, hot wad of cum into his mother's sucking mouth. His aching testicles spasmed again and again, sending long streams of flaming juice out of his spewing cockhead.
Mrs. Parker swallowed furiously, greedily drinking up all the lovely man-juice her son had to give. It raced down her throat like a lava flow, filling her mouth and dribbling past her clamped lips to course down her chin and neck, coating her heaving tits. When her son was finally drained of jism, she reluctantly allowed him to withdraw his raw member.
"Mom, that was great," the spent man moaned with satisfaction. "I don't have an ounce of cum left in me."
Mrs. Parker acknowledged the compliment as she licked stray droplets of glistening scum off her smooth cheeks and chin. Then she gasped, suddenly catching sight of her daughter-in-law.
"Dwayne! I thought your wife wasn't coming! How long have you been standing there, Lorraine?"
Both mother and son gaped at the intruder, who answered, "Long enough I ... I'm sorry ... I didn't know ... oh, God, I saw what you two did!"
Dwayne smiled sheepishly at his mother. "That's why I hesitated before ... but it felt so good I couldn't stop you, Mom."
Without covering her nakedness, Mrs. Parker went to the young girl and drew her into the room. She saw the girl's flushed face, and with a grin guessed the nature of Lorraine's emotion.
"Hope you enjoyed the show," the older woman murmured. "Maybe you'd like to join in?"
"Mother!" Dwayne gasped, jealous.
"Listen, dolt!" Mrs. Parker whispered furiously. "You want her to tell the world about the fun we have together? The way to prevent that is to make her just as depraved as we are."
Dwayne grinned broadly, understanding the gist of his mother's words. "Yes, Lorraine, I bet you've never had an opportunity like this."
"My Lord, never!" the girl gasped. She was shocked by her husband's implication, and by the throbbing between her legs in response to the implication. "Dwayne, maybe if it was just you and I in here ... ."
"Nonsense, my dear," Mrs. Parker crooned, slipping her robe off and displaying her nude figure. "I bet you need to have your pussy licked ... and who cares if the tongue belongs to a man ... or a woman?"
"Well, Mom, maybe she can have both!" Dwayne exclaimed.
Lorraine was helpless before the brazen advances of the two powerful sex partners. She closed her eyes, wondering if all of this was a dream. She didn't resist when she felt her dress being lifted off. Then she was stretched out on a couch ... and without pause her damp panties were tugged off. Lorraine, despite her misgivings, realized she was very wet and hot.
"My dear, that's one of the most delectable twats I've ever seen," Mrs. Parker said admiringly.
"It tastes good, too, Mom!" Dwayne added.
"Let's find out for sure."
Lorraine kept her eyes closed, unwilling to fully join in the perverse activity. She felt her long legs being spread apart, fingers rubbing and prying open her slippery pussy lips, then two streams of warm breath made her cunt throb with fresh desire.
"Ohhhhh ..." she moaned. "Yes, I'm horny ... please lick me ... gently ..."
Her husky plea was immediately answered as two tongues worked the length of her pink, dripping slit. She peeked down and saw her husband's and mother-in-law's heads side by side between her quivering thighs. The sight was so unbelievably blaze of passion.
"Yes, do it!" she suddenly shrieked. "Eat my pussy ... lick my cunt ... hurry!"
The pair of tongues expertly worked her inflamed vagina, laying the warm pussy lips, then advancing inward to manipulate her clenched cunt walls. It wasn't long before Lorraine was beside herself with lust. The icing on the cake was when warm hands crawled up and massaged her heaving, swollen boobs.
"Please ... faster ... harder!" she screamed, her hips pumping into the licking faces. "I'm getting there ... 'I'm ... Ooowweee!"
Without further ado, the two lickers forced their way in. The two heads bobbed as Lorraine's cunt was vigorously tongue fucked. The girl's legs and arms flailed the air as a blazing orgasm began to overwhelm her senses.
"Here I ... harder... eat mmmeeeee. oh, God ... I ... Aaaaaiieeeee!!!!!"
She exploded, battering their faces with her hot, soppy twat. The two cunt-eaters hung on as the young girl squirmed and thrashed, wave after wave of brilliant pressure being released through her vagina. Her screams of joy filled the room.
Later, as Lorraine's motions subsided, her mother-in-law and husband grinned at their success.
Chapter Four
The next day, Sharon succeeded in following her Uncle Nate to the Harrows' cottage. No one was home, and before Sharon could retreat, her uncle emerged, spotted her, and beckoned for her to enter.
"Well, Sharon," he said kindly. "I don't often get to speak to you alone.
"No, Uncle Nate," the teenager replied, impressed by her uncle's gentle tone. "And it's so peaceful here. Wish I had a cottage like this."
"That can be arranged," her uncle said, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Gosh, you mean it?" Sharon gasped.
"Sure. I've wanted the same thing. Maybe we ... it would be like having a family."
"Don't say it just to be -- " Sharon put a hand to her throat. "Oh, Uncle Nate, could we? Would you mind?" She leaned forward. "I'd try not to get in your way."
"We'd have to discuss it with your mother."
"Oh. no. She wouldn't care. Oh, let it be our secret, Uncle Nate, at least till we have the place built. Have you thought about it -- made any definite plans?"
"I've had some blueprints made up. You might like to look them over and make some changes. And by the way, Sharon, that chauffeur fellow of your mother's makes me nervous. I've been thinking I'd like to get myself a car, but I don't drive. You do, I know. What do you think? A car of our own?"
Her eyes, gray as doves, gleamed with excitement. "My gosh," she cried. "Of course! We don't want to have anything more to do with the big house than we have to. What kind of car do you want?"
"I don't know that much about cars. You'd have to decide that." He took his watch from his vest pocket, regarded it thoughtfully. "It's just past two o'clock. We could take a run downtown and look around today, if you'd like."
"Like? I'd love it. I'll call a cab. Where's the phone around here?"
"In the living room. I'm sure the Harrows won't mind."
She caught at his shoulders, giving him a little twirl. "Imagine," she cried. "Just when I was ready to walk west till my hat floated, this happens! Oh, Uncle Nate, for the first time I'm not sorry you're rich!" She let him go, raced to the telephone, then swung around to face him as he followed her. "One thing," she said, "no servants in our cottage. I'll keep house for you and even learn to cook, but no servants mucking about!"
"Just the two of us mucking," he twinkled. "And I'll do the cooking, if you please. I refuse to have my digestion ruined at this late date."
Her laughter was sweet to hear. "Oh, we'll have a lovely life together," she promised.
He went to stand by a window. "It's a beautiful spot," he remarked when she had finished at the telephone. "I suppose what I should do is separate the property. Give your mother the big house and most of it, and keep what we need -- and this cottage -- in both our names."
She came to stand beside him, her face sobering. "Are you very rich, Uncle Nate?" she asked.
"I'm afraid so," he said with a sigh. "It's a great burden to me."
"Don't worry; I'll help you. But let's take it easy. Let's not -- I mean don't you do anything impulsively anymore. I guess you think I have a lot of nerve telling you what to do," she added.
"We shook hands. We're partners now. Anything we do we'll talk over first. It's the way a family should be."
She blinked back a rise of tears. "I think I love you, Uncle Nate," she told him. "In a way, all I've ever wanted was a real family." She hugged his arm. "I'll stay with you always and never marry, or anything like that. It will just be you and me -- and we'll be happy. Happy. I don't think I ever have been, not deep down. Oh, Uncle Nate, will it really happen?"
"We'll try to make it happen. Is the taxi coming?"
"They said fifteen minutes; as soon as they could. Uncle Nate -- " She turned him to face her. "You won't send me away, will you? I mean, get tired of having me around and start talking about sending me off to school? I'm supposed to be very -- difficult. I'll try not to get in your way--"
He felt a sense of anger, directed at her mother, but he kept his tone even. "I'll never send you away, Sharon," he told her. "Never." His tone turned playful. "But one of these days I expect I'll lose you to some young fellow. A pretty girl like you will never escape the eye of some lad."
She shook her head. "No, never. Boys -- men -- don't like me, Uncle Nate. And I don't care. Just so long as you do. You're all the family -- anything I need."
He did not argue. "We'd better start walking out toward the street," he said. "Or will the taxi come here?"
"I guess I did give them the other address."
She took his arm and walked him out, taller than him by a head, her attitude protective. She kept glancing at him as if she expected him to disappear at any moment.
"I'll take good care of you," she said, tightening her hold on his arm. "I won't let anyone take advantage of you."
"That's fine. A great relief." His eyes danced. "The burden is only half as heavy when shared."
"You mean the burden of wealth." She nodded. "I really think it's too bad you have so much. Maybe you could get rid of some of it. Give it to some worthy cause, and just keep enough to be comfortable." Her eyebrows came down. "I'll get some kind of job," she added. "One of the worst things has been just living in that big house and doing nothing. I had a pretty good job as a typist in the accounting department of Talmadge's before you came. Mother made me quit. Actually, she got Dwayne to use his influence to have me let out because she thought it wasn't dignified -- me working and us living on Skyline Drive. I was so mad! I don't want to live on your money anymore, Uncle Nate."
"Well, you must do what makes you happiest, my dear, but at least for the present, I'll really need you. Much to be done about getting the cottage furnished and all, once it's built."
"That's right. Well, just so you understand." She smiled at him happily. "Funny how I always get along better with old people than young," she remarked. "I think all this must be fate."
"You'll have to help me straighten out other mistakes, my dear," he told her, vastly amused. "I've been worried about Hermie."
"Oh gosh, yes. Poor Hermie. Well, just cut off Debbie's charge accounts and that will help a little."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"Well, we'll see," he said. "Nothing impulsive, remember?"
"I really believe I'm going to be a big help to you," she told him. "I'm supposed to have a very good head for business."
"That's a blessing," Uncle Nate said.
After Nate and Sharon had gone, the Harrows settled in on their couch to enjoy a cup of tea.
"You know," Beth began, "Nate is such a good man. It's too bad he has such a strange family to look after."
"Oh, Beth, I wouldn't call them strange," John replied, patting her on the knee. "They're just a little ... a little ..."
"Strange," Beth said again.
John laughed and set down his teacup. Then he pulled Beth into his arms-and gave her a long, deep kiss.
When he was done, Beth looked at him quizzically, as if to say, Is that all? Then she smiled and nodded toward the bedroom.
John laughed a deep, hearty laugh. Then he picked his wife up off the couch and carried her across the room. When they had reached their large bed, he tossed her down playfully and set about removing his clothes.
"There, dear, not so fast," Beth said, rolling toward him with her arm outstretched. "Take your time. Here, let me help you."
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Beth wrapped her arms around John's waist. With her cheek nuzzling against his belly, she sighed deeply. Then she leaned over slightly and bit the edge of his jeans, yanking open the button of his fly. Biting the edge of his undershorts, she pulled downward until John's big cock was standing free.
Pulling his pants down by hand, Beth paused to stare at her husband's huge prick. She admired the way the network of blue veins surrounded his shaft. And she delighted in the way his cocktip almost glowed a deep purple.
Grabbing his shaft, she could feel his meat being pumped with fresh blood. It thrilled her to feel so much life in something that moments ago was just a limp little tube of skin. And now it was so powerful, an engine of desire. It was so thick, so pungent, so delicious. She could hardly wait to feel it reaming out her cunt, driving between her legs savagely as stroke after stroke filled her with pleasure. She wanted it so bad. She wanted it jammed in balls-deep, unleashing its thick load of creamy sperm, filling her with that special heat that made her so happy.
"Now!" Beth sighed. "Oh, John, I want it now. Please, take off my clothes and let me have it. But be gentle -- at first!"
John smiled knowingly. He remembered how in the beginning of their marriage that Beth only liked sex slow and easy, treating their lovemaking like they were sitting down to a box of chocolates. Too dainty. Too restrained. And then he thought about how she had changed over the years. He thought about how she learned to love her sex rising to an excruciating crescendo after a slow and fulfilling build-up.
He remembered, too, that at first he had been unable to last long enough to satisfy his wife's desire for hot, savage sex. He would always come just before she went over the edge, no matter how hard he tried to restrain himself. Admittedly, his orgasms were satisfying. But only for him.
But through the years, with patience and a lot of love, they managed to learn how to please one another, and please one another totally. No longer was it a process of two people fucking. No, their lovemaking had become almost an entity in itself, something they gladly sacrificed themselves to each time they fucked.
John joined his wife on the bed and proceeded to carefully take off her clothes. He savored every moment, enjoying seeing more and more of her body, thinking about the moment when he would thrust his cock into her wet cunt, feeling his meat surrounded with that special warmth that only a woman could provide.
"You're beautiful," he gasped, stripping his wife bare. "And this is going to be so good ... so good ... ."
"Oh, John, do it. Please, do it now. Ohhhhh!"
Spreading her plump legs wide, John stared down at her pink pussy. The lips were puffy and wet and he could almost see her delicious little fuck-hole. Her clitoris was erect, however, and he chose to stroke it gently before easing his cock inside her.
"Yes," she squealed. "Keep doing that. Ohhhhh, just a little more ... to the ... side ... yesssss ... like that. Oh, John, that feels so good!"
Working on her clit until he thought she was sufficiently aroused, John then prepared to mount her. He scooted up on his knees between her widespread legs and aimed his red cocktip at her hole.
Beth smacked her lips and tossed her head from side to side. Looking down through her cleavage, all she could see was the tip of her husband's penis, and she desperately wanted it to disappear -- deep into her cunt!
Gripping his shaft, John guided his penis into her. She was so wet that he was in to the hilt on the first stroke. Then he began pumping slowly, working up the rhythm bit by bit, trying to gauge his wife's urgency against his own until they were locked into the timeless bliss of mindless fucking.
When John finally came, he drenched his wife's cunt with an overflowing load of his jism. Feeling so much of his cum sizzling into her snatch, Beth gave herself up to her orgasm and came two times before collapsing beneath him.
Then they slipped into the satisfying sleep that follows only the most pleasurable of climaxes.
Chapter Five
Sharon made no secret of her sudden attachment to her uncle, but she could not be drawn out in any explanation, and with admitted malice she enjoyed worrying her mother and sister by it.
Plans for another cottage, to be occupied by Sharon and her uncle, were set in motion. Uncle Nate thought his sister shouldbe notified and consulted, but Sharon demurred. "Not yet, Uncle Nate," she begged. "Anyway -- anyway, Mother will be glad to have me out of the house. There's nothing to worry about on that score. I just wish we weren't going to Lorraine's tonight. Why did you go and accept, anyway?"
The frankness that had characterized their first conversation in the Harrow cottage had been maintained. They had small spats, usually good-humored, and if Sharon was learning that her seemingly easily influenced uncle had a mind of his own, he in turn was learning that most of the girl's headstrong half-rudeness was merely a veneer she had acquired over lonely years to protect her innately tender susceptibilities. On the whole, they got along well and had a healthy respect for each other. And part of Sharon's hunger for affection, acknowledged and demonstrated, was appeased in her relationship with the chuckling little man.
"Well, I'll tell you," he said now, "I may be, as I have told you, a little disappointed about much I've seen in the family, Sharon, but I do like Lorraine. She's a very kind person."
"Oh, yes, Rainey is okay. But tonight we'll have to put up with the rest of them. Mother doesn't really like Rainey, but she loves the idea of dining at the Talmadge place. I don't like hypocrisy."
"You needn't go, you know."
"Don't be silly. Do you think I'd throw you to that den of wolves without being there to protect you?"
Having managed without her protection for over seventy years, Uncle Nate was justly touched nevertheless. The love Sharon had for him meant much to him and he could not doubt its genuineness. She alone cared nothing for his wealth, and in all probability would have preferred him without it.
"You're hard on your family," he reproved her now. "They're not all bad, my girl. No one is.
"Oh, all right." They were driving back from the lake where they had spent the morning fishing, and Sharon was in high spirits. She loved driving the new, flashy car and they had discovered a mutual liking for outdoor life. Sharon was no longer the discontented young woman she had been a short time before. "We're getting darn social ourselves, you know it?" She grinned across at him. "Dinner at the Talmadge mansion tonight and dinner at the Harrow's tomorrow night. I guess you know which I think the more attractive invitation!"
"I'm anxious to meet young John."
"Mmm." Sharon did not argue the point, but having become a favorite with the Harrows and at home in their cottage, she was not looking forward to the arrival of their son, who more than likely would dislike her and spoil everything.
However, that evening, dining with her family at the Talmadge home, she decided that half a dozen Harrow sons would be better than this. Lorraine was an easy and natural hostess, a lady to the manner born, but her husband brought an electric quality to every occasion that grated on his younger sister's nerves. Sharon sensed avidity in his every move and gesture, and glowered because there was no denying his good looks. With his mother on his right and Debbie on his left, Sharon felt he knew what a striking picture they made. The Golden Parkers, she thought savagely. At the other end of the table, it was as though Lorraine sat in a shadow, although bouncy little Uncle Nate on her right did rather draw the eye. Hermie on her left and she, Sharon, tucked carelessly next to her mother, were both, she felt, necessary evils in an otherwise exquisite setting.
Mrs. Parker preened herself, thinking how right it was that she and her beautiful twins should be thus seated in an almost regal triad. She loved her role of Queen Mother and hardly took her eyes off her beautiful son. "Wonderful," she would murmur, and "How clever of you, darling." Sharon sat wreathed in scowling darkness and vied with her brother for attention.
"I read Ship of Fools because you recommended it, Rainey," she said stridently. "I didn't like it. Now Jean Christophe by Rolland -- that was a book! I was glad you lent it to me. Some of these modern writers should go back and read Rolland and some of those other good old authors. They might learn something. Ship of Fools left a bad taste in my mouth."
Since no other member of her family ever opened a book, Sharon invariably showed off her private compatibility with Lorraine, who was very well read, to taunt her family. Her eyes sparked now to see the faintly drawn frowns they turned upon her, but she could have wished Lorraine less tactful with her guests. Lorraine merely nodded and smiled her winsome smile. Lorraine's lips, Sharon thought, seemed permanently set in that same smile, a mere curve of the lips without her teeth showing.
"Sharon thinks she knows so much." Debbie spoke petulantly. "Thinks she's too smart for college."
"Well, it's a cinch you weren't smart enough," said Sharon.
Mrs. Parker peered down at Nate. "Debbie wanted so to go," she told him. "But money, you know. It costs so much -- and then, of course, Hermie stole her away from me."
Sharon made a rude sound. "If I wanted to go, I'd earn my way. I don't want anything handed to me on a silver platter."
"That's a good-looking car you're driving these days," her brother remarked pointedly.
"It's not mine! It's Uncle Nate's," Sharon shot back.
Dwayne laughed, and the sound enraged Sharon, but she caught her uncle's eye on her and was quiet. The conversation proceeded without her, but she listened and writhed. Dwayne always managed to turn the subject to money in Uncle Nate's presence.
Sharon thought that her sister-in-law moved uncomfortably. Talmadges did not speak of money, just crass, pushy Parkers, she thought disgustedly. She had no doubt that Dwayne was itching to get his hands on a fat lump of Uncle Nate's money. Well, she'd put a barrier in his way if he tried.
Sharon chose to walk the short distance home after the dinner party with her uncle. "I wish we had our cottage and were free of them," she sighed.
"I certainly agree," her uncle murmured. "But, for the moment, we'll carry on as best we can."
Sharon was filled with love for this kind man and his understanding disposition. And there was another feeling -- no, it couldn't be!
Wonder if it's incest ... to be in Jove with your uncle, a voice in her mind said. Gee, he's not really old, and he is rather handsome ... oh, come on, Sharon, none of this!
However, the pretty teenager continued to brood as they reached the house. She couldn't deny the strong feeling she had for Uncle Nate -- yet she wasn't sure what that feeling was.
They said goodnight and Uncle Nate went upstairs. Sharon felt a bit nervous, because a look her uncle had given her made her wonder if he knew what she was feeling.
Maybe he feels the same way, she mused to herself. Oh, rot! He's too proper for that!
After a few more minutes of idle thought, Sharon went up to her room. The odd sensation was still upon her, though she tried to ignore it. And the more she tried to ignore it, the more fervent it became. She decided the best thing to do would be to hop into bed and try to fall asleep right away.
In the pitch-dark bedroom, Sharon quickly threw off her clothes. Unable to prevent it, her mind was flooded with an image of her and Uncle Nate ... naked ... rolling around on the bed ... doing what she'd done with another older man, Justin Stone. Contemplating this image, she didn't realize that her fingers had crawled downward until they were gently caressing her soft, bushy mound.
The feeling of moisture snapped her out of the trance. I shouldn't be doing this! her mind warned. But, I'm ... getting pretty hot. Maybe there's no harm done... especially if it will allow me to get to sleep.
Her fingers slowly penetrated the dark bush until they were rubbing her dampening pussy lips. Her entire twat began to tingle, making her ache with need. She allowed the digits to stroke her dribbling slit, loving the way her vaginal labia grasped for them.
Damn, I'm hot as a firecracker! she moaned inwardly. I'd better masturbate or I'll never relax!
Resolved to this course of action, the pretty brunette made her fingers go stiff, then she inched her hips forward. Her burning, wet cunt took in the hard digits, inch after inch. Thrill waves of agonizing pleasure spread through her voluptuous body as her pussy ate up the welcome invaders.
"Oh, shit, I can't believe how much I want cock!" she whispered hoarsely. Her breathing was now a series of quick gasps. "My fingers ... will have to do ... I'll have to finger-fuck myself!"
The lust-embroiled teenager stretched out on the bed, then rolled onto her stomach. She intended to hump her pussy up and down on her upraised fingers. Suddenly, she came into contact with warm, naked skin!
In a startled whisper, she asked, "Who's there?"
"Why, it's your Uncle Nate, dear," came a low, husky reply.
"My God! This ... must be a dream!"
Her uncle chuckled. With her body partially draped over him, Sharon realized Uncle Nate was as naked as she was. She felt his thin, muscular build ... and more importantly, the hard, thick object twitching against her smooth thigh.
Now that she had recovered her composure, Sharon decided that dream or not, this is what she was longing for -- her kindly uncle in bed with her. Incest or not, she intended to take advantage of the situation. Her hand reached down and closed around the long, jutting tool.
"Uncle Nate, it's ... so big!"
Her uncle laughed out loud. "Of course! Just because I'm your gentle uncle doesn't mean I can't have a big schlong!"
"No, I guess not," his niece agreed sheepishly. "Gosh, and it's getting bigger!"
Sure enough, Nate's prick had still not achieved its full dimensions, but the touch of the teenager's soft fingers was quickly bringing that about.
"Stroke it, Sharon," he hoarsely suggested.
The man's skin grew warm in contact with his niece's soft flesh and the pressure of her swelling tits against his chest. He snaked a finger down to her pussy. It was hot and wet to the touch as a result of her recent attempt at masturbation.
"Yes, Sharon," he groaned. "You stroke me ... while I finger your cunt."
"We can do better than that, Uncle Nate!" the teenager cried enthusiastically.
And to prove her claim, Sharon shifted her left leg across the older man's torso. This resulted in her dripping slit opening up over the thick staff.
"Gee, I've never felt such an enormous prick!" Sharon gasped in awe. "I don't know if I can fit it in, but ..."
"Yes?" her uncle said patiently.
Suddenly, the young girl threw caution to the winds. "Oh, shit, Uncle Nate, I need it bad! Please, give it to me good!"
"You bet, honey!" Nate groaned ecstatically. "I'll give you all I've got!"
He began to move his hips, dragging his huge tool along the length of his niece's warm, wet slit. His excitement grew by leaps and bounds as his purpling cockhead massaged the drooling cunt meat.
Sharon kept her hand on the thick pork, and as it treated her burning pussy to pleasure, she began to jerk it off with slow, sensuous strokes. Each time her hand reached the throbbing cockhead she pressed it harder against her steaming portal.
"Let's not wait, Uncle Nate!" She whined. "Now ... right now ... stick it in my hot twat!"
"God, yes!" Nate moaned. "Put it in your hole!"
With this the frisky girl readily complied. Nate felt his molten jism swirl at tornado force as Sharon began to insert his tip between her grasping pussy lips. To distract himself, he brought a stiff nipple up to his mouth and began to tease it with his tongue and teeth. Then, with a sudden motion, Sharon rolled over, dragging her uncle on top of her.
"This is what I want!" she squealed, holding the thick phallus at her dribbling entrance. "Now! Right now ... stick it in me!"
Delirious at their lewd activity, Nate didn't hesitate for an instant. With the teenager guiding him in, Uncle Nate pushed his long, throbbing pecker into the clammy hole. Inch after pulsing inch passed between the slippery cunt lips, and he groaned as his rod forced its way between the girl's inner walls.
"More ... God, more!" Sharon yelped, opening her thighs wider. "Give it to mmmeeeeeee!"
The frantic girl swung her legs around her uncle's torso until she could dig her heels into his back. Unbelievably, more cock was pressed into her canal, and she didn't know how she could fit it inside. Then she didn't care. All she wanted was to wrap her cunt around the gigantic bat and fuck it silly!
"Ooooohhh ... Ooowweeee!" she squealed, feeling herself tearing in two. "Fuck me ... . fuck me in and out ... Fuck me!"
With a final heave, Nate buried his dick deep into his niece's raging sex furnace. There was no room to move as her wet pussy was clamped tightly around his embedded love log, yet somehow he managed to draw his dork out until his dribbling cockhead was poised at her sloppy entrance. With a groan of lust, he again fed every inch he had into the delectable teenager's pussy.
"Eeeeeeee!" Sharon whined, filling up with pulsing pork. "Uuuunnnghgh!"
Her trembling hands reached past her upraised legs to take hold of her uncle's taut ass. She began to drag his hips back and forth, organizing a steady fucking rhythm. She mashed her aching boobs' into her uncle's face, loving the way he popped each hard nipple into his drooling mouth. Despite the weight upon her, she managed to lift her ass off the bed to meet his every powerful thrust.
"Christ, yes! Fuck yes! Oh, shit, yes!" Sharon babbled, her senses shattered by the rampaging pecker deep inside her pussy.
Uncle Nate was lost in a world of lust. He banged away like crazy, pinning the girl to the bed, ravaging her insatiable hole. Suddenly, he realized his churning load couldn't be denied. With one final, desperate lunge, he shoveled all he had into the girl's belly.
"Sharon ... oh, Sharon . . can't hold back ... I'm ... comiiiiingng!"
"Me, too! Fuck fuck fuck me!!!" Sharon shrieked, her world exploding around the spewing dick.
They came simultaneously, their cries echoing in the small dark room: "Eeeeeeeaaaaaaayyyaaahhhh !!!!!"
They rocked and thrashed and humped together like two wildcats, utterly in the throes of orgasm. Nate shot wad after boiling wad into the teenager's blazing cunt as Sharon dug her fingers into his back. Their insane climaxes rolled on and on until they collapsed in total exhaustion.
Chapter Six
The servants watched the growing relationship between the Harrows and Nate Dugall and his niece with mixed reactions. Debbie Carlson's new personal maid, a haughty young woman with a tight, deceitful face, considered it a good joke on Mrs. Carison, whom she thought little of but served well. Diane, pleased to be well paid for little work, refused to be drawn into the kitchen gossip. But Brownie and her two young friends continued to take a personal and delightful interest in all developments.
"Well, you've got to hand it to Sharon," Sally stated. "She doesn't make any bones about it. She and old Nate like the Harrows, and that's that."
"I never knew it to happen before," Brownie opined dubiously. "But if Beth ain't embarrassed, I don't know why I should feel funny about it."
Rose nodded. "It's like Sharon says -- it's still a free country. She don't believe in classes. She don't try to pretend she's any Lorraine Talmadge."
"It's tough on Uppity," Brownie said. "I guess she remembers the old days when this house was different. Sometimes I wonder why her and Andrews came back to work here for the Parkers at all."
"This is home to her and Andrews. They was thirty years with the first people, or so I heard." Sally laughed. "I sure wouldn't want to be thirty years with Mrs. Parker. I'm gettin' sick of hearin' what a great guy that Dwayne is."
"She'll bust up that marriage, if she can."
"I don't know, Brownie. After all, look how he got to be a big shot at Talmadge's by marrying her." Sally sighed. "Boy, would I love to be able to buy my clothes there. Them sweaters they have in the window just now. Cheapest is sixty bucks! Tracy's Department Store has them for fourteen ninety-five, but of course they ain't the same."
"Sharon don't shop there," said Rose.
"She don't shop anyplace, looks like. Outside of that dress she's wearing to the Harrows' tonight, she hasn't worn anything new since I've been here."
"She don't dress up much. She sure looked nice, didn't she?"
"It about killed Uppity, them comm' through the kitchen to go out the back door." Brownie laughed. "I guess Sharon figured it was the shortest way to the garages.
"Funny they drove down that little way."
"She loves drivin' that car. I bet she paid plenty for that dress, Rose. Sure was dressed up just to go down there."
"Don't forget Beth's son is home."
"Yeah, how about him?" Sally wanted to know. "Mrs. Parker spotted him from her bedroom window and asked me who he was. She got a funny look on her face when I told her he was a doctor."
"Be funny if Sharon married him."
Brownie laughed. "The way things is goin' around here, nothin' would surprise me. But I'll say this much for Beth. She don't put on any airs just 'cause Mr. Dugall and Sharon took a shine to her and John. Uppity don't like it, but there's nothin' she can do about it."
"It kind of spoils things in a way," remarked Rose. "It just don't seem right. Workin' up here isn't anything like I thought it would be."
"I wish they'd entertain more," said Brownie. "I like big dinner parties, but all that Debbie ever has is those cocktail parties, and always the same people. Old Skyline Drive ain't what it used to be, I guess."
"Debbie complains all the time about how Dwayne's wife sort of high-hats her," Sally informed them.
"You still eavesdroppin' on the Carl-sons?" Brownie demanded. "You better not let Diane catch you at it."
"I can't stand her. You ought to hear how she butters up to the Duchess." Sally looked angrily jealous. "Debbie gave her a linen suit but hardly worn. She never gave me anything."
"You got to learn to keep your mouth shut around them."
"Me and Mrs. Parker talk all the time." Sally laughed. "I get a kick out of the way I can pump her. She acts like I'm not human half the time."
"She'd die if she knew you ran down and told us everything she says."
"Well, I figure it's her hard luck. I look for a big bust-up with the Carlsons any day now," Sally said expansively. "You see, Mr. Carlson just has an ordinary job and his wife and Mrs. Parker don't think it's high-toned enough for them. Dwayne, he wants Mr. Carlson to go to work at Talmadge's, but old skinny Hermie, he ain't havin' any."
"He's a good, honest fellow," Brownie said. "I knew his folks."
"I like him," Rose said. "He's not good-looking, but he's nice. Sharon likes him, too."
"Poor guy. He looks bad," added motherly Brownie. "And, you know, I kinda blame Mrs. Parker. Debbie always was a snippy thing, but her and Hermie was happy enough till they moved here. Hermie makes pretty good money, and they had one of those modern apartments over on the North side. She's spoiled is all, just spoiled, and I blame her mother."
"Sharon sure ain't spoiled, but she's got them all worried now she's so chummy with the old man.
"Well, Sally, one thing. Sharon ain't after his money like the rest of them. And that old man ain't so dumb as he looks."
Diane came in, sniffed at the obvious gossip going on. "You through for the night?" Brownie asked her.
"I'm free for a few hours. Mrs. Carlson doesn't expect to be late tonight." She looked unusually upset.
"What's the matter, Di? The Duchess gettin' you down?" Sally inquired slyly.
"I can handle Mrs. Carlson," was the abrupt response. "But I don't take anything off anyone," she added.
"Oh, come on, Diane, give. What did she do -- accuse you of using her perfume? She was always on to me about it."
Diane sat down, rubbing the bridge of her sharp nose. Suddenly she laughed harshly. "Funny thing about it was, it was her new skin conditioner I tried."
This confession made her one of them now and accepted. "Have some coffee," invited Brownie.
Diane accepted, her lip curling. "Nouveau riche," she remarked, but since this went over the heads of her companions and did not seem to be directed at them, they ignored it.
"Are you goin' to quit, Diane?" Rose asked.
The woman shrugged. "I know how to handle Mrs. Carison," she repeated, and laughed. "I've got my eye on a dress and a few other things she has before I quit, if I do."
Sally frowned, "How do you figure to get them -- steal them?" she asked jealously.
"Don't be silly. When you've been in this business as long as I have you'll learn a few tricks. And with her, it's like taking candy from a baby."
"Don't you go puttin' wrong ideas in Sally's head," Brownie remonstrated.
"I want to know how," Sally objected. "Go ahead, Diane, tell how you do it?"
Diane looked smug. "Nothing to it, if you know how. You have to develop finesse, or they catch on. Like, for instance, this dress I mentioned. Next time she wears it I'll just kind of frown. Not say anything, just kind of give it little looks. Subtle like. Pretty soon she'll ask do I think it's wrong for her and I'll say, 'Oh, no,' but act embarrassed. First thing you know, she'll quit wearing it, and presto! -- it's mine!''
"Say, you're pretty slick." Sally laughed, then groaned. "And I'm stuck with old-lady Parker!"
"What about Sharon?" Rose suggested, a little shocked but nevertheless intrigued. Wait till she told her friends about this! "Too bad she don't let you do for her, Sally."
"I helped her dress tonight," Sally replied, and shook her head briefly. "You know, when she tries, she's darned good-looking."
Rose nodded. "I love her hair. Almost black, ain't it?"
"What I did was have her part it in the middle, and she let me trim her bangs." Sally looked pleased herself. "If she gets anywhere with Beth's son, part of the credit is mine." She laughed. "Funny thing -- the way she was so anxious to look good. It must be Beth's son she's after.
Diane felt the conversation had left her hands. "I never trust the type that gets chummy with the help," she said. "All I've got to say is, Miss Sharon better not let her sister catch on."
"Those two are not at all alike, and for my money," Brownie put in, "I'll take Sharon. I hope she's havin' a real good time tonight. As good as she is to her uncle these days, she deserves to have some fun. Just hangin' around older folks ain't normal for a young girl. Yes, sir, I sure do hope she's enjoyin' herself and her and young John Harrow hit it off."
Sharon Parker would have appreciated Brownie's kind thoughts, but with wryness at their futility. She sat opposite John Harrow at the dinner table and looked at him as little as possible.
She had at first been pleasantly relieved to see that John Harrow had the same ease of manner that characterized his mother, and she had not felt awkward in his presence. She did not expect him to like her, but at least he was neither too attentive nor too disinterested. She had approved, at first, of his manner, with Uncle Nate, which had been respectful, yet full of humor. Now she had begun to suspect this man's motives. And, too, she felt overdressed for the simple occasion and angry with herself for having taken such pains with her appearance. She surely hadn't wanted to impress him, had she?
His eyes kept flicking toward her and away as he talked to Uncle Nate about a project that absorbed him. Poor Uncle Nate, she thought. No doubt the Harrows had informed their son of his wealth and that was why all this talk about a medical clinic. It seemed John Harrow and three of his colleagues had ambitions of opening a medical clinic here in Brookings, combining in it their separate specialties. They were looking for a likely prospect to build their clinic and rent out space to them. Sharon felt a little sick, and it was with increasing difficulty that she kept her expression from revealing her inward thoughts.
Brookings has a fine hospital," she said, entering the conversation for the first time. "And any number of doctors in private practice -- in medical centers, too. I mean," she added sharply, for they were all looking at her. "I just don't see the need of another medical center in Brookings."
"No?" John Harrow's eyes looked amused, but his tone was politely serious. "There's a crying need for more doctors all over the country, Sharon," he told her. "I spent a few weeks here in Brookings this spring and was given an altogether different impression. I understand that there are some areas -- on the South Side, for instance -- that have no medical services quickly available at all."
She affected a shrug. "I used to live on the South Side," she replied. "I don't remember any crying need, as you put it."
Uncle Nate chuckled. "As healthy a specimen as you are, my dear, I don't wonder," he said, and turned back to the young man. "Sharon and I are rather interested in supporting good causes," he told him. "But she's a cautious one, John." He chuckled, adding, "My self-appointed guardian angel."
"And a very nice one," Beth Harrow said, smiling at the girl. "We're going to be very happy when we're real neighbors, aren't we, Sharon?"
"Yes." Sharon had no idea that the look she turned on Beth Harrow held a trace of pleading in it. Don't just like Uncle Nate and me for what we could do for your son, Mrs. Harrow, her eyes begged. And for the first time the reality of her uncle's wealth as a real burden touched her.
"Now, no more talk of business," Beth said, a little sharply. "Let's move into the living room and have our coffee there. Will you play for us, Sharon?" She turned to her son. "The piano in this cottage is really wasted on us unmusical Harrows" -- she smiled -- " but Sharon plays beautifully."
"A very talented young lady all around," murmured her son.
Sharon gave him one of her typically direct looks. "Hardly," she said. "I'm the practical type, not the artistic."
"She plays the piano real well," Uncle Nate said proudly. "I used to myself when I was young. Come along and give us a tune, my dear." And in an undertone, Sharon heard him murmur, "We'll talk more tomorrow about the building, John. I'm very much interested."
Sharon sat on the piano bench, her back very straight, and thumped the keys a bit to ease her inner exasperation. "I guess I'm playing for my supper, all right, huh, Mr. Harrow?"
It caused a little laughter, but Sharon felt her tone had created a puzzled air of tension in her listeners. She played very badly, and hardly cared. Her mind was wrestling with suspicion and some anger toward her uncle. It was quite obvious to her that the talk of the medical clinic was not news to him, and she resented his betrayal of their partnership.
"Oh, that's enough," she said suddenly, and left the piano to go to sit beside her uncle on the divan. "I'm a lousy pianist, anyway," she added, to soften her rudeness.
Beth Harrow smiled at her, thinking her shy in John's presence. "I've almost finished the book you lent me, Sharon," she said, and began to discuss the book to ease the girl's embarrassment.
Sharon felt like a guest, and blamed the son of the house. She did not sprawl in her usual relaxed fashion in this house, but sat primly and kept her expression polite. She refused to admit that young Harrow was attractive, well informed on many subjects, and d good conversationalist. She saw him as an opportunist and ignored him as much as possible.
She was glad when the evening ended. Young John walked them to the sporty car, and she saw how his eyes narrowed upon it -- and her. She gave him a proud, disdainful look, but Uncle Nate shook his hand, beaming. "Don't forget," he said. "We'll pick you up around six. It's almost an hour's drive to the lake, so we don't want to get too late a start."
"I'll be ready."
Sharon stared from one to the other. "You're going fishing in the morning?" she demanded.
"Yes. We arranged it this afternoon," her uncle replied. "But if you don't think you can get up so early," he added innocently, "don't worry about it. Johnny can drive me."
Her eyes flared. "I prefer to do the driving of this car," she said coldly to John. "Good night, Dr. Harrow," she rasped. And he had to step back quickly from the car as she roared away.
John Harrow stood watching the speed at which she drove the winding cement roadway to the big house and felt torn between amusement and anger. Nothing his mother had written him concerning Sharon Parker coincided with what he had seen of her this evening. He had expected to meet a jolly, harum-scarum kid, and instead had been confronted by a beautifully dressed, imperious young woman with lovely but hostile eyes.
"Coming in, dear?" his mother called from the doorway.
"In a minute. You and Dad go on to bed. I feel like stretching my legs."
"All right. Good night, son. The grounds are lovely in the moonlight. No one will mind if you explore them."
He had no desire to explore the grounds. He lit a cigarette and stood staring toward the big house that gleamed whitely through the trees. His rather squarish face wore a hard look. He knew he should be feeling buoyed up by the interest Nate Dougall was showing in the medical center, but the attitude of the girl kept getting in the way.
His mother, John reflected, was inclined to be a bit naive in her assessment of people. This Sharon Parker was not easily dismissed as merely old Nate's devoted niece. John Harrow had no particular conceit, but it came as rather a shock to realize that the girl had taken a dislike to him. Why? Before dinner she had been easy enough to talk to, a little stiff at first, but friendly.
The medical center, he decided. For some reason, she froze up after it was mentioned. Her uncle claimed for her a good business head, and it was possible that she had much influence over his decisions. John dropped his cigarette and ground it out with a heel. He felt suddenly tired. The long struggle to reach the threshold of his profession, on which he now stood, had not been easy. If he was ambitious, he was also sensitive, and he had been against the taking of the job here by his mother. His father was an experienced gardener and for him the work here was ideally suited to his physical condition, but John Harrow knew that both his parents were tired. His own struggle had been theirs, too, and he would never be able to repay them for all they had done for him.
And, now, tonight, when the end of work for his parents was in view, when hope for the medical center had been kindled by Nate Dugall, it did not seem fair to have to concern himself with the whims of an arrogant young woman. And he could not rid himself of the feeling that Sharon Parker, young as she was, could turn her uncle against him.
Oh well, he thought. There will be other pro ;pects. It was almost too much to hope that completion of internship and the medical center could happen at the same time. And if Nate Dugall personified hope for such an event, his niece was a strong reminder that nothing comes easily and giving way to too much hope merely courts disappointment.
His mother peered out at him and, seeing how still he stood, with no evidence of leg-stretching, she came out to stand beside him, laughing softly. "I can't seem to settle down for the night, either," she said. "I feel so excited, son. Nate is very interested. I have a feeling you will go back to the hospital with good news for your partners."
He put a careless arm about her shoulders. "Don't get your hopes up too much, Mom. I'm not."
"But, Johnny, just this afternoon you were all excited yourself!" She twisted to peer up at his face. "It's not like you to start doubting just when everything seems to be working out so well. What is it, dear? Your dad feels so sure Nate will build the clinic -- "
"Look, Mom, it's no use counting your chickens before they're hatched. Nate is a fine old fellow. I like him. I just don't feel we should count on -- anything.
"You're tired," his mother declared. "That's all in the world that's the matter with you. Come on in and get to bed, dear. Everything will seem brighter when you've had some rest."
"Yeah, maybe." He let her turn him toward the door. "Now don't you bother getting up early, hear me? I can fix myself something to eat. You're the tired one, Mom." He held the door open for her, his eyes very young. "It won't be long now. Clinic or no clinic, once I get any kind of practice built up you're going to quit work and take it easy. You and Dad both. Just as soon as I'm able."
She rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Honey, your dad and I have been glad and proud to help, and you've done it mostly yourself. You're tired, Johnny. Go to bed, son." She pushed him into the house. "As a matter of fact," she added with a laugh, "I'll be very sorry to leave here. The work isn't hard and I just love this house. Nate would hate to lose us as neighbors, too, when he and Sharon get their cottage built."
"Well, he'll just have to get used to it. One of these days, you're going to have someone to wait on you!" His dark eyes, so like her own, held angry hurt. "That's what I want most," he said fiercely. "To make up to you and Dad for all you've done -- all you've gone without -- for me."
"Go to bed," she said, near tears. "When you have a family of your own, dear, you'll understand. You've always been a blessing, son, never a burden."
His mouth twisted in a smile. "You're all the family I'll ever want or need," he said. "I'm going to be an old bachelor like Nate."
"Yes, yes," she said. "I've heard that before. Now off with you and no more talk. And tomorrow just have fun, for a change."
With that girl along? his mind questioned. Fat chance.
Chapter Seven
Sharon had difficulty in getting to sleep. It troubled her that she had been so quick to doubt the purity of motives in the Harrows tonight, to have suspected them of ulterior motives in their extension of friendship to her and her uncle. They were not that kind of people, she acknowledged now. No matter how great was their desire to further their son's ambitions, they would not stoop to subterfuge in their dealings with others.
As for their son, she supposed now that there was nothing wrong with his seeking support for his project, and certainly Uncle Nate had given him every encouragement. It hurt a little to think that her uncle had known of the project even before John Harrow arrived and said nothing to her, although he had more or less apologized for this neglect when they reached home.
"I thought I'd just wait till we had a chance to see him for ourselves. I really had no doubts we would like him. I do, immensely, don't you?" Uncle Nate had said.
"He's all right, I guess," she had replied. "But, really, Uncle Nate, you're not doing what we agreed on at all. I hope you haven't made him any rash promises behind my back."
"Oh, no. It will be a shared decision, but I can think of no reason for objection. A wholly worthwhile project and a good investment. That last part bothers me, though. The idea isn't to make more money but to get rid of what we've got."
"Yes. But you can't just go around giving medical centers away to every young doctor with big ideas!"
"I thought we might make them a present of a well-equipped laboratory," he had said coaxingly.
She could not explain even to herself now, lying sleepless, why she had expressed herself so strongly against such a gift. She felt miserably confused. It was one thing to talk about giving money away but quite another to do it, she reflected. And it frightened her that being so involved in her uncle's wealth might be changing her, too. It was just possible she was no more unaffected by it than her family, when it came right down to it.
She thrashed about, wishing once again that the Harrows had not had a son. The evening had ended up with him not liking her, which was nothing new in her experience but not very helpful in her present dilemma. She could, of course, just wash her hands of any interest in Uncle Nate's financial dealings. All she wanted was the new cottage and a nice, comfortable life with him, with no John Harrows or any greedy others to be always worrying about.
She still felt angry about the trouble she had gone to, to look her best. Had she started changing in that moment when she saw the dress downtown and let Uncle Nate buy it for her? It was beautiful and expensive. Sally had just raved about it and how she, Sharon, looked in it. All she'd wanted to do, she told herself, was to achieve a sense of well-being to offset the awkwardness that always attended any meeting of young men.
He had, she remembered, looked at her with interest at first. Almost as though he felt awkward -- no, not awkward, but nervously aware of her. It had made her feel very adult, almost sophisticated. But not for long. The minute he started the talk about what he wanted, all the looks he had given her had been sharp and almost defiant -- antagonistic. Well, she thought, if he had any sense he would not antagonize her! After all, if she were against the investment, young Dr. John might very well find himself out in the cold!
She rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in her arms, shocked at herself. Wave upon wave of sick shame burned through her. Oh, God, she pleaded, thoroughly frightened, don't let me be like that. Don't let the money change me into another Debbie. Let him have his old clinic -- anything, just so I can stay free of this awful feeling.
There were unaccustomed tears on her cheeks when sleep claimed her at last, but she had survived her first battle with corrupting power, and was able to look herself in the eye when she awoke to the shrill summons of the alarm clock. For a moment she could not remember why she had set it for such an early hour, and then, remembering swiftly, lay wondering if she should redeem herself for her unworthy thoughts of the night before by letting John Harrow drive off in the wonderful new automobile.
She was repentant, but not that repentant, she decided. And Uncle Nate did need her a long for -- well, protection. She dressed carelessly to play down the care she had taken the previous night, and to prove to herself that impressing John Harrow was the last thing in her mind. The hair Sally had so beautifully arranged was tied back with a length of red ribbon, and the jeans she donned were old and faded, the shirttail flapping, one she had once swiped from Dwayne. Scuffed loafers completed her outfit. She went downstairs on the run, headed for the kitchen and food.
"Well, all ready, I see," Uncle Nate greeted her from the big kitchen range, where he had breakfast started. The electric percolator made a bright morning sound.
"How would you like your eggs?" he asked.
"Morning." She smiled. "Let me help."
"No, just sit, my dear. First real chance I've had to try out this range. It's a beauty. I told Mrs. Upstead last night we'd be going out early and not to bother Brownie, so we have the kitchen to ourselves."
"Gee, won't it be great when we have our own place?" She straddled a chair, watched his deft movements. "I can hardly wait," she sighed.
"Well, it won't be long. The workmen should start laying the foundation tomorrow.
"Uncle Nate," she said, scowling, "are you mad at me?"
He swung around, spatula in midair. "Perish the thought! Should I be?"
"I was a pain in the neck last night," she told him. "All mixed up again. You go ahead and do what you want about the lab -- about everything. The sooner we quit being rich the better I'll feel."
"Bothers you, does it?"
"Scares me. Power corrupts," she said darkly.
He choked on a bit of bacon he was sampling. "I suppose it does," he managed. He brought their breakfast plates to the table. "It's going to be another lovely day," he remarked. "And there's nothing like fishing to take our minds off material things, so eat up and let's be on our way."
She wished they were going alone, but refrained from saying so. "Whatever you do," she said, "don't forget your hat. You know how easily you burn. And it wouldn't hurt to take along a sweater. It won't really be a lovely day till the sun gets higher."
"A hat and sweater, I'll remember," he said obediently. "You're getting a nice tan already, my dear."
"Oh, I'll be brown as an Indian before summers s over. I always am."
Dr. Harrow took one look at Sharon and decided he must have been just tired the night before. Why, she was nothing but a kid, and a kind of cute one at that! He piled fishing gear and a huge picnic basket onto the back seat and climbed into the front beside Uncle Nate. "I haven't been fishing in years," he told them, and waved to his parents, who watched from the doorway.
"Have a good time," his mother called.
Sharon grinned, waved, and peeled out and away with her usual enjoyment of the noise, laughing when the two men were jerked back in their seat. "Did you bring along any bait?" she yelled at the doctor.
"It's Dad's gear," he answered. "He said there are some flies and a couple of lures in the tackle box."
"No good," she told him. "Salmon eggs are the only thing right now, but don't worry. I brought along a couple of jars."
He smiled at her tone and Uncle Nate gave him a sly wink. Sharon caught it and frowned, then shrugged. She was determined not to let him spoil her day. Kill him with kindness, that's the way, she decided. Uncle Nate frowned slightly at her strange expression.
"Sharon's a real fisherman," he said. "Got me beat hollow."
The praise evoked her generosity. "Oh, you're pretty good, Uncle Nate," she conceded. "It's just that I've had so much experience. I've been fishing the lake ever since I was a kid."
John looked away to conceal his laughter. It was hard to believe she was the same girl he had seen the night before. These young girls nowadays, he thought. Can't tell them from their big sisters when they get all dolled brought their breakfast plates to the table. "It's going to be another lovely day," he remarked. "And there's nothing like fishing to take our minds off material things, so eat up and let's be on our way.
She wished they were going alone, but refrained from saying so. "Whatever you do," she said, "don't forget your hat. You know how easily you burn. And it wouldn't hurt to take along a sweater. It won't really be a lovely day till the sun gets higher."
"A hat and sweater, I'll remember," he said obediently. "You're getting a nice tan already, my dear."
"Oh, I'll be brown as an Indian before summers s over. I always am."
Dr. Harrow took one look at Sharon and decided he must have been just tired the night before. Why, she was nothing but a kid, and a kind of cute one at that! He piled fishing gear and a huge picnic basket onto the back seat and climbed into the front beside Uncle Nate. "I haven't been fishing in years," he told them, and waved to his parents, who watched from the doorway.
"Have a good time," his mother called.
Sharon grinned, waved, and peeled out and away with her usual enjoyment of the noise, laughing when the two men were jerked back in their seat. "Did you bring along any bait?" she yelled at the doctor.
"It's Dad's gear," he answered. "He said there are some flies and a couple of lures in the tackle box."
"No goods" she told him. "Salmon eggs are the only thing right now, but don't worry. I brought along a couple of jars."
He smiled at her tone and Uncle Nate gave him a sly wink. Sharon caught it and frowned, then shrugged. She was determined not to let him spoil her day. Kill him with kindness, that's the way, she decided. Uncle Nate frowned slightly at her strange expression.
"Sharon's a real fisherman," he said. "Got me beat hollow."
The praise evoked her generosity. "Oh, you're pretty good, Uncle Nate," she conceded. "It's just that I've had so much experience. I've been fishing the lake ever since I was a kid."
John looked away to conceal his laughter. It was hard to believe she was the same girl he had seen the night before. These young girls nowadays, he thought. Can't tell them from their big sisters when they get all dolled up. "I wish Dad could have come," he said as the city was being left behind for open countryside. "Next to chess, he loves to fish."
"We'll have to have another little jaunt on Thursday, his day off. Or can you stay on through the weekend, John?"
"I shouldn't, Uncle Nate," John replied. "I could get one of the other interns to pinch-hit for me, I suppose, but I am due back Saturday morning."
"Well, we'll plan on Thursday, then."
Sharon frowned briefly, but said nothing. At least he was not going to be around permanently. She hummed softly. The feel of the steering wheel under her hands and, the smooth purr of the engine were joys still so new they outweighed less happy thoughts. And young Doctor John was rather pleasant company.
At the lake, she took command, arranging for the rental of a specific motorboat she favored, and becoming its pilot. Because he was so pleased at every evidence of teenage carelessness in her, John Harrow was merely amused by her bossy little ways. She looked like a careless boy despite the feminine curves of her slim figure, he thought, and decided that pale eyes in a smooth tanned face were a very attractive combination. He began to affect an avuncular attitude, and Sharon responded with ease.
"We'll head for the north end of the lake," she announced. "Thank goodness we got here early," she added. "We ought to get in a good hour's fishing before it gets crowded. You can get out the salmon eggs, Doe," she told him.
He laughed out loud. "Danged sassy kid you've got here, Uncle Nate," he said.
"I don't know how I ever managed to survive seventy-two years without her," responded the old man, a twinkle in his eye.
Her head turned. "That's pretty old, Uncle Nate," she said in a worried tone. "Button up your sweater. That breeze is cold."
"He doesn't look his age, Sharon," John told her. "And I have a hunch he's putting us on. As a medical man, I'd say he's a good ten years younger than that physically."
Sharon flicked him a grateful look. "Are you a good doctor?"
"The best." He grinned. "Just ask my mother, if you don't believe me."
"Okay, Doc," she replied, grinning, and cut the motor. "We'll troll here," she said.
The lake had a metallic sheen and the sudden silence was broken only by the clear, pure call of a bird in one of the trees that lined the banks. For a moment John watched the girl as she moved deftly, checking her reel and digging brown fingers into the salmon-egg jar for bait, her face rapt and concentrated. John glanced at Uncle Nate, who, having already cast out, sat smoking his pipe contentedly. Catching John's eyes, the old man gave a brief nod and Smiled, as if to say, "No more chatter out of her now."
And it was true. Sharon became absorbed in fishing, the true fisherman's silence wrapping around her like an invisible shield. What a strong, beautiful profile she had, the young doctor thought, its lines cleanly exposed by the pulled-back hair. He felt an odd sort of tenderness move in him. Just this morning, while frying chicken for the picnic basket, his mother had remarked about a lonely quality she sensed in this girl and told him a little bit about her background. Unable, now, to keep from glancing at her often, John saw what his mother meant. In repose the girl's face was very young and vulnerable. I'd like to help her, was his thought, which struck him as slightly ridiculous, but persisted.
The sun was high when, driven by hunger, Sharon decided to call a halt. Their combined catch was nothing to brag about, but the hours spent were counted no loss. "Gee, I'm glad your mother was so thoughtful," Sharon declared. "I'm famished." And she let John pilot them to shore. Fishing always had the power to subdue her frustrations and rebellions. "I know a dandy picnic spot," she said. "Uncle Nate, why didn't we ever think of bringing along a picnic lunch before? You mother's a darling, Doc."
"Well, I'll tell you, kid," he replied. "I've had her for darned near twenty-eight years and no complaint so far. Of course, she's inclined to be a bit too bossy, like some other people I've noticed around here, but I guess it's just one of those incurable feminine traits we poor men have to put up with. Eh, Uncle Nate?"
Uncle Nate chuckled. "I'm afraid so," he agreed. "But we'd be lost without our little women to nag us into behaving ourselves."
Sharon enjoyed the teasing. "In a way it's a great waste of talent that I've decided not to marry," she told them. "I really think I'd make a great mother."
"Oh? You've got something against marriage?"
"I don't think it's all it's cracked up to be, Doc. I notice you're not wearing any ring on your finger.
"That's right. I just haven't had time to give marriage much thought. I expect I'll end up like you, Uncle Nate, and be none the worse for it."
"I don't know," Sharon said, studying him. "Your mother wants grandchildren. I think he ought to get married, don't you, Uncle Nate? Doctors that aren't married can get into a lot of trouble with their patients, and then there are all those nurses -- " For some reason the thought bothered her. "Well, here we are," she said, dropping the subject abruptly. "I'll go get the picnic basket while you tie up the boat, Doc," she said, and was first out of the boat and away, running.
"She's s a nice kid," John told the old man.
"Yes, I think a lot of her, John. I'm glad you two hit it off so well today. She needs to be with young people more." He let John help him from the boat, stood a moment studying the young man's face. "John, I've decided to build your medical center and won't keep you wondering. There's just one thing I'd like to ask you to do for me. Interest Sharon in the project. It won't make any difference in the long run, but she needs to have other interests than those of an old man. Do you understand."
The night before, John would not have understood; today he had experienced a protective moment for Sharon. "Does she know you have decided?" he asked.
"She said this morning -- " His old eyes were touched for a moment with sadness. "She reminded me that power corrupts, John, and it was a very significant remark to me. She's very young, but almost painfully honest. And just child enough to be jealous of anything I do that does not include her." He laughed. "I'll bring up the subject of the clinic at lunch, John. For the moment, just follow my lead. More than anything in this world I want her happiness."
John was not sure what was expected of him, but the singing joy within him overrode doubts. "I should thank you, Uncle Nate. I'm afraid I can't find words -- "
"Not needed, not needed. Here she comes. We'll thrash it all out another time."
"Wow, this thing is heavy," Sharon told them, and let John relieve her of the basket's weight. "I peeked," she added. "Lordy, lordy, Uncle Nate. Fried chicken, chocolate cake, and I don't know what all. Even lemonade! Come on, let's hurry, before someone finds my picnic place first!"
The picnic basket was considerably lighter when Uncle Nate lay -back on the spread blanket and covered his face with his hat, flushed with a healthy appetite more than appeased. "I don't know about you two," he said, ''but I'm half asleep.''
Sharon sighed, wiped her mouth, and sat back against a huge log. "God bless Mrs. Harrow," she said. "I'm stuffed."
"I know what you mean," John replied. "Funny thing, I don't feel a bit hungry now."
She laughed. He had been full of fun all during the meal and she liked him, thoroughly liked him. "Hey, Doc," she began, grinning, "Uncle Nate's going to build your darned old clinic. Did he tell you?"
"Uncle Nate spoke quickly. "I was just about to when I felt too sleepy to bother," he remarked.
"Why, Uncle Nate! That's a very selfish attitude, when Doc is bound to have been wondering." Her eyes flicked away from the brightness of John's gaze upon her. "I hope you're glad," she said, a little shyly for her.
"I don't know what to say, Sharon. It's a tremendous thing."
"I suppose it is." She got up, found an apple in the basket and bit into it, then came back and straddled the log where he was sitting. "It must be nice to have a goal -- something that means something," she said wistfully.
"Your uncle tells me you made some very good suggestions about the plans for your cottage," he told her. "Would you like to take a look at the rough sketches I have for the clinic? Maybe you could bring your femmine taste to bear on the reception room. We'd want it to be pleasant, you know, attractively furnished."
Her eyes glistened even as she frowned. "Uncle Nate is going to include a complete laboratory. I don't see why he can't just furnish it throughout. How about it, Uncle Nate?"
"Whatever you think, my dear. Just let me sleep," said Uncle Nate, who had no intention of sleeping at all. Again he adjusted his hat over his eyes; smothering chuckles had dislodged it. "You two work it out between you. You'll want to decide on many things before we turn it all over to an architect."
John eyed the old man covertly. He had dreamed of the medical center with his colleagues too many years not to know almost to the last detail what was needed and desired, but he had no objection to letting Sharon expand her views, which she did now at great length.
"Hold on," he said at last. "Look, kid, this isn't the Taj Mahal we're building. Just an efficient, modest group of doctors' offices with a well-equipped lab. Not a hospital, either."
"Well, you don't want it to be drab."
"No, just a decent medical center in a decent middle-class neighborhood. You see, honey, if it's too grand we're liable to scare patients away."
Her ears picked up the endearment, but her mind ignored it. "You mentioned the south side of town. Just where over there?" "Well, the street that took my fancy, where I'd like to see it built, has an odd name -- Tiger something. What's the matter? You know the one I mean?"
"Tiger Tail Road! Do I know it? I was born on it!"
"Well, now," he declared, "I'd say that's a good omen. Imagine that! It's a nice street, Sharon, if some of those houses could just be bought up."
"The Linquists," she said. "Mr. and Mrs. Linquist -- at the corner of Tiger Tail and Sutton Boulevard! Their family is all grown up and gone and Mrs. Linquist was always talking about having a smaller place. Doc, it's a huge corner lot -- "
"I bet I know the house you mean. A big, old three-story monstrosity. Say, kid, you're going to be a real help in this."
Her gray eyes shone. "Did you hear that, Uncle Nate? Doc says -- " She broke off to stare at the young doctor. "Does it bother you to be called Doc? I won't, if it does."
"Ordinarily, I don't care much for it, but I don't mind it from you. You're a pretty nice gal. Miss Parker. Almost as nice as old Sleepyhead."
For a moment she was aware of him as a man and felt tongue-tied. To overcome this miserable condition, she usually resorted to sarcasm. Now she just looked away, and the awkwardness evaporated. "I think we'd better start for home," she said. "That ground is kind of damp under that blanket." She hopped off the log, went to her uncle. "Hey you," she said, prodding him with her foot, "time to go home." As he stirred, she turned back to her new friend. "Will you really let me see the sketches you have?"
"Sure thing. If you'll let me drive home. I'd like a shot at that high-powered crate of yours."
"It's not mine, it's Uncle Nate's, but you can drive," she told him, and he read in her eyes that he was accepted.
"Come on, Uncle Nate, get a move on," he urged with exaggerated anxiety, "before my little pal changes her mind!"
Sharon laughed. Her heart gave a ripple of warmth. My little pal! She loved the way it sounded.
"You know something, Doc?" she demanded. "If I get sick, I'll bring my business to you."
He accepted the accolade with a mock bow. And he felt curiously young, almost wishing himself more her age. When she threw back her head that way and laughed, a fellow could hardly resist hugging her!
When they returned to the cottage, Nate politely excused himself, realizing that John and Sharon wanted desperately to be alone. Fortunately for the two young people, John's parents were out, having left a note declaring their plans to be home later that evening.
"Would you like to come in for a while?" John asked Sharon.
"How long is a while?" she asked, smiling at him impishly.
John took the lovely brunette in his arms. "Who cares? Anyway, it's quality, not quantity."
"But I'm all for quantity, too," Sharon whispered, giving him a mischievous grin.
Chapter Eight
Mrs. Parker sent her beloved son, Dwayne, off to find Sharon. The young man irritably searched the house and grounds, then he spotted Uncle Nate.
"She's at the cottage," the older man reported. "But I'm sure she'd not like to be disturbed."
Dwayne waited until his uncle had gone into the house before setting off for the cottage. He didn't care if Sharon wanted to be alone -- he'd been asked to find her and it didn't matter what Nate had to say about it.
Anyway, the sooner Mom takes care of her business with Sharon ... the sooner I'll get my reward, Dwayne mused excitedly.
He knew exactly what the reward would be, and he couldn't wait to get to it. His mother had mentioned, accompanied by a discreet squeeze, that later they would find some time to be alone together. This prospect put the young man in quite a state -- his fevered mind kept picturing his mother sliding the robe off her shoulders, exposing her firm, round breasts and the succulent pink meat partially hidden by her thick pubic muff ... .
"If I'm lucky, Sharon won't be in the cottage," he declared as he hurried along. "I can sneak in and beat my meat. I should save it for later and let my mother do it ... but shit, if I don't do something to calm down I'll blow my wad the instant she lays a hand on me!"
Dwayne stepped up his pace, hoping he wouldn't run into a tree by accident. With the expanding bulge in his pants he thought he'd hit a tree while still being a couple of feet away from it.
He came upon the cottage. "Hmmmm ... looks like no one's here. Goody!"
He entered the doorway, unzipping his pants in order to jerk off as soon as he was inside. Suddenly, he froze in his tracks. He heard a strange sound, like someone moaning.
"Shit, somebody's inside ... oh, wow!" he whispered hoarsely. "It's my sister and that medical-school fellow!"
Sure enough, the sight that greeted his eyes nearly made them pop out of their sockets. It certainly made his dick lurch freely into the air.
In the living room of the cottage, John and Sharon were completely naked -- and John was gradually hoisting himself down the panting teenager's torso until his head was poised between her legs. Sharon moaned deliriously as she felt his hot breath on her wet, exposed pussy.
"Holy mackerel!" Dwayne breathed. "He's going to eat my sister out! Boy, she's beautiful ... and hot to trot. Too bad I'm not closer to Sharon ... what a time Mom and I could have with her!"
He watched with erotic fascination as John's hands roamed over the lovely brunette's body, slowly massaging her swollen, upraised boobs, then crawling down to sensuously rub and pinch her fibrillating cunt lips. Sharon's ass squirmed against the floor and she flung her long slender legs around John's back.
"Please, Doc ... keep going!" the young girl cooed anxiously. "Lick my pussy ... you've gotten me so fucking horny ... eat my hot cunt!"
"Jeez, lewd bitch, isn't she," Dwayne whispered in awe. "I never knew she was such a wildcat!"
The young medical student's hot, quick breath bathed the teenager's hair-topped mound, making it ooze glistening love juice at an increasing rate. Hardly touching the succulent cunt flesh, John rolled his tongue out and slowly lapped up the syrupy, musk-scented fluid from the steaming entrance and Sharon's white, shuddering thighs.
"Oooooh, John, you're driving me crazy!" the girl howled ecstatically. "Please ... put your tongue in me ... lick me, honey!"
Finally, realizing he'd teased the frantic teenager enough, John allowed his licker to work the length of her pink, dribbling slit with one long agonizing stroke. Sharon's quish spasmed and her flushed face twisted into a red mask of naked lust.
"That's it ... that's what I want!" she screamed. "I want my twat licked and sucked!"
Hidden in the doorway, the girl's brother felt fire igniting in his nuts. Pent-up jism spun as though he had a million tops in his balls. Trembling hands enclosed his twitching, inflamed phallus. Without hesitation, he began to stroke his throbbing meat.
"Oh, baby," he moaned, "this is the hottest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe I'm watching my own sister getting eaten out ... while I'm pulling my pud!"
He decided on a lewd plan. He would jerk off in time with John's cunt-eating, then shoot his load as his sister orgasmed.
"Wow, it'll be like screwing my own sister!" he crowed. "I better catch up, though. Looks like she's not far from going over the edge!"
His observation was quite accurate. The pretty teenager was panting hard and with each quick breath a shrill moan escaped from her lips. Her smooth legs clamped her lover's head close to her mound.
"More ... do more.., please ... ." she begged. "Eat me ... Eat me!"
John realized that any further foreplay would be torture for the lust-crazed brunette. His fingers pried apart the warm, slippery pussy lips, then he buried half his face in the slobbering flesh.
"Oooowwweeeee!" Sharon squealed, her eyes rolling like billiard balls after the break.
"Like this, baby? Guulllff!" John spluttered with his mouth enclosed by drooling cunt flesh.
"Yes ... shit, yes!" the teenager shrieked, her swollen tits heaving like a mountain range during an earthquake.
John expertly nibbled on the hot, dripping cunt-meat as he sucked in more of the girl's cascading juices. Then he stiffened his tongue and forcefully drove it past her clenched cunt walls, embedding his warm prod deep into her blazing womb.
"Oh, fucking Christ!" Sharon yelped. "You're doing it ... almost there!"
Me, too, Sis! Dwayne inwardly shouted. Just hold on a minute longer!
His hands were a blur of motion now as they vigorously stroked his aching, throbbing pecker. Dribbles of pre-cum oozed from his purple tip, helping to lubricate his masturbation. His wide eyes were fixed on his sister's widespread limbs and he tried to time his quick strokes to the pistoning of John's tongue.
The handsome student was now going all out, full speed ahead. His head rapidly bobbed back and forth, repeatedly shoving his stiffened prod into Sharon's inflamed inner depths. His fingers rubbed the pried-apart pussy lips and his upper body shook from the vibration of Sharon's soft, taut ass-cheeks bouncing off the floor.
"Eeeeeeeaahhh!" Sharon suddenly shrieked hysterically. "Can't hold back ... can't ... "
Ignoring her cries, John renewed his cunnilingual attack. He thought that if he pushed his head in any deeper, Sharon's wide-open twat would swallow it up. He felt her body convulse uncontrollably.
"Oh, fucking pussy!" the teenager screamed obscenely. "Coming ... I ... Yyyyaaaahhhhaahhhh!!!!!"
With that high-pitched scream of feminine release, the voluptuous brunette was overwhelmed by an orgasmic tidal wave. Her hips bucked in a frenzy, mashing John's embedded face, thrashing and writhing against the hard floor, almost upending the two of them. John held on for dear life untilthe groaning girl's convulsions began to subside.
"Lord ... that was so great ... Ohhhhh ... " Sharon moaned contentedly. Her hidden brother was anything but content. "Damn it, she came too fast!" he grunted with frustration. "Shit, I don't care! I want a piece of that!" he cried, entering the room.
John stood up. "Okay, honey," he murmured at the satisfied girl. "Now it's my ... what the hell!"
The naked man was startled by the entry of Sharon's brother ... and both he and Sharon were further startled by the sight of his long, red pecker flailing the air before him.
"What the fuck do you want?" John demanded.
"The same as you," Dwayne growled. "I want Sharon to suck my cock!"
"Oh, my God!" the shocked teenager gasped. "My brother ... this is so perverse!"
Yes, it was perverse. Yet the young girl felt a strong, throbbing desire awakening as her eyes shifted from John's jerking, thick dick to her brother's potent club. She realized now that Dwayne must have been spying on them, and the vibrant pulsing of his member told her he was in a desperate condition. But John looked like he was pretty hot, too, and after all, he'd just eaten her out ... but Dwayne was her brother ... what to do?
"Sorry, fella, she's got all the prick she needs already," John said.
"Oh yeah?" Dwayne replied menacingly. "We'll see who she takes on!"
"Hold it, you two!" Sharon shouted, getting up on her knees as the men advanced on each other. "No need to come to blows. Let's compromise."
"What do you mean?" John said in a shocked whisper.
Sharon licked her full, red lips with obvious meaning. "I'm taking charge of this situation," she announced. "I'll take you both on!"
"Thatta girl, Sis!" Dwayne cried joyously. He stepped next to her, his large rod surging against her smooth chin. "Put it there, kid!"
The frisky girl flicked out her tongue and licked the throbbing cockhead. "You better get over here," she called to John, "or you'll miss out!"
Though struck with confused amazement at the strange situation, the medical student realized his needs couldn't be denied at this stage. He had no choice but to step beside Dwayne and offer his lurching phallus.
"Mmmmm ... that's better," Sharon cooed.
"Christ, I can't believe this is happening!" John exclaimed.
"Well, believe this, honey."
And with that, Sharon again flicked out her tongue and rubbed it slowly back and forth across the handsome man's rock-hard tip. He moaned, then moaned louder as the girl rimmed his cockhead with agonizingly slow circular motions.
"Wow, Sharon!" Dwayne shouted. "I never knew you were such an expert!"
"Jump out of your clothes, and I'll really show you what an expert I am!" his sister challenged.
Her brother did just that. In seconds he had shed his clothes and was again offering his throbbing pork to his sister's smiling face.
"Here I am, Sis! Now wrap your fat lips around this pole!" he demanded.
Reluctantly, Sharon left off licking John's engorged pecker and turned her attention to her brother's pulsing tool. She did as he requested, moistening her lips and then clamping his purpling cockhead between them. Within her mouth, her warm, wet tongue lapped up his oozing precum as her lips gently nibbled on his bulging dick meat.
"Oh, baby! Oh, shit! Yeah, do it!" Dwayne groaned in ecstasy. "Suck my dick!"
Obligingly, Sharon's smooth cheeks went concave as she sucked his cockhead with increasing pressure. She didn't neglect John, though. She reached up and wrapped her soft fingers around his thick shaft. As she sucked her brother, she began to gently jerk off the panting medical student.
"Ohhhh Godddd!" John heaved. "Never had it like this before ... yeah, honey, beat my meat!"
Sharon realized it was a good thing John had eaten her pussy just a few minutes before, because with the erotic excitement of this brazen situation it would be impossible to concentrate on anything other than her own aroused, aching desires.
Two cocks at once! her mind reeled. Never thought I'd be doing this ... but I love it! Shit, I want cock all over and in my face!
She allowed Dwayne's cockhead to slip out of her mouth, and replaced it with John's burning spear. Her other hand took hold of Dwayne's lubricated pecker and began to give it steady strokes. She leaned forward, mashing her swollen boobs into their legs, loving the delicious friction of her aching, erect nipples digging into their warm flesh.
"Go, Sharon, go!" John shouted, beside himself with lust. "Lick my prick!"
He heaved his hips forward, and Sharon gulped as inch after throbbing inch of man-meat passed between her lips and deep into her face. A moment later, his dribbling tip banged up against the back of her throat. She clamped her mouth tightly around the buried rod and slurping noises inundated the room as she furiously sucked it.
"Hey, what about me?" her brother protested. "I want my prick sucked, too!"
Sharon pulled her head back, her eyes flashing. "What's the matter? Don't you think I can handle this? Don't you think I can take you both on at once? Come on, you bastards, I'll give you both head at the same fucking time!"
The two men were mesmerized by the pretty teenager's erotic power. She reached around, firmly grabbed their taut, tensed asses, and drew their hips forward. Their erect peckers advanced on her face like two spears.
"That's it, come on!" she urged, her face flushing with lewd hunger. "I'll blow you both!"
And true to her word, the lusty girl opened her drooling mouth as wide as possible and accepted the thrusting phalluses.
Both men were totally astonished by the wanton spectacle before their eyes. They stared as their thick, throbbing pricks, side by side, passed between the girl's wet lips into her mouth. They pushed in, sending their meat into her flushed face. Soon their curly hairs tickled her nose as their cocks were buried to the hilt in the sucking orifice.
"Holy shit, I don't believe it!" John groaned.
"Me, neither," Dwayne added hoarsely. "Jesus, Sis, you're too much ... yeah, suck us both!"
Sharon gulped and wheezed, overwhelmed by the sensation of having her face completely filled with pulsating pork. Her tongue struggled to lick both shafts and the back of her throat grew tender from the constant onslaught of the two bulging cock-heads.
"God, this is so wild ... I don't think I can hold back much longer!"
"Shit, neither can I!" John screamed, echoing the other man's grunting exclamation. "Grab her head, Dwayne, and let's fuck it!"
The two men securely took hold of the teenager's pretty head. Sharon was now helpless before the two men's surging needs. Their arms, legs, and torsos enclosed her, nearly smothering her with man-flesh. A flow of warm, sticky pre-cum oozed down her throat. Though there wasn't much room to maneuver inside her clamped mouth, the two men simultaneously began to pump their hips, sending their inflamed rods repeatedly in and out of her ravaged mouth. "Oh, my God ... can't stand it ... this is too much!" John howled.
"Fuck yeah ... oh, fuck ... oh, shit!"
Dwayne babbled, his nuts aching like over-inflated balloons.
Neither man gave a shit any longer -- they pounded their hips back and forth, mercilessly battering the young girl's warm, wet orifice. The lusty threesome 'thrashed together, Sharon's head rocking and shuddering with the increasingly frantic onslaught.
Suddenly, Dwayne screamed, "Oh, fucking shit, I can't hold it in ... I'm commmmmmming!"
"Me, too ... me, too ... me, too!" John shouted, nearly incoherent as his desire overwhelmed him. "Here it comes, Sharon eat my load!"
"And mine! And ... and ... Arrrrghghgh!!!"
"Here it ... gggrraaahhhgggg!!!!!"
Suddenly, Sharon's senses reeled as her mouth was inundated by wad after wad of spewing spunk. It blasted against the back of her throat and coursed inward like a raging river. Swallowing was futile -- there was too much cum to deal with. It filled her mouth, burst out past her lips, formed rivulets to course down her chest and bunched-up tits, splashed hotly against her cheeks, chin, eyes, into her hair ... . Sharon moaned inwardly as she nearly drowned in spurting jism.
Somehow, she remained conscious. Good thing, too, because after she fell back, the two spent men, to show their gratitude, crawled between her legs ... .
Back at the house, the servants were in a tizzy. Mrs. Parker had fainted, and Diane demanded that Sally tell her what happened.
Sally was too frustrated to be cooperative. She pulled away and ran downstairs. "Big excitement," she announced in the kitchen.
"Nothing of the sort," said Diane, following her in. "Sally's just mad because Debbie wouldn't let her in Mrs. Parker's room."
"I notice you got thrown out pretty fast!"
"What happened?" demanded Brownie. "Are they havin' a fight?"
Giving Diane a nasty look, Sally related what she knew. "Mrs. Parker was in the library with Mr. Dugall a long time. I know, because I was supposed to remind her she had a dental appointment at two, and Andrews wouldn't let me go in and tell her. They wasn't to be disturbed, he said. And it was right after she came out of the library she had her faintin' spell. It has to be some-thin' old Nate said to her."
"Whatever it is," Diane put in, "they don't want anyone to know about it. I did catch something Mrs. Parker said before she sent me out. Something abou't Sharon spoiling something."
"It can't be about Sharon moving out with the old man," Rosie said. "Mrs. Parker found out about that yesterday. You said so yourself, Sally. You said Nate told her."
"You be careful you don't call him Nate to his face." Brownie voiced the admonishment idly, her mind on this newest development in the household. "Maybe it's something to do with Mr. Carlson," she suggested. "He was away on business, but I know better. I heard the fight they had before he walked out on her."
"I wish I'd heard it. It's gettin' so I hate to take my days off for fear I'll miss some-thin' around here," complained Sally.
They laughed at her. "Poor old Uppity," said Brownie. "I look for her to have a nervous breakdown any time. Debbie told her this morning the big party is off -- postponed, she said. The poor soul don't know what to make of these people, and you can't blame her."
"You know what I think?" Sally asked. "I think Sharon is the real boss around here, and those two upstairs are just findin' it out." She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "It would serve them right, if you ask me. They treat her like a stepchild or somethin'. But Mr. Dugall likes her, and it wouldn't surprise me one bit if anythin' she wants she gets around here now."
"That business about them goin' to live together sure seems funny," Rose agreed. "I just hope she doesn't decide to get rid of this house. We'd all be out on our ear."
"I don't look for anything like that to happen," Brownie said. "Old Nate is a fair man, and Mrs. Parker is his sister, don't forget."
"I don't like it," declared Diane. "I am going to start looking around for another job. There's something too unsettled about this place."
"You can say that again," Sally said.
And reflected in each face was a vague worry over the atmosphere of impermanence that existed in this fine mansion. Trouble was in the air. And change.
Chapter Nine
Sharon sat quietly by the young doctor's side as he drove. Five nights and five days, she was thinking. And I feel as if I've known him all my life. She knew with sighing wonder that the past days had been the happiest she had ever known, and she was secretly delighted that their three elders had been content with farewells said at home. She wished Doc would drive slower. Another fifteen minutes and they would be at the airport, and he on a plane for Park City. He had extended his visit, but now on this warm summer evening, with church bells echoing in the distance, it was all but over.
"I've never been on a plane," she remarked. "Imagine, Doc, almost twenty years old and I've never been anywhere."
"I'll be glad when I can stop catching planes and just settle down in dear old Brookings."
He would be back. It was all that saved her from feeling completely maudlin about his departure. They had had such fun. Even the times they had been alone together had been without any constraint. They had gone to a movie one night, and swimming twice. She smiled to remember with what reluctance he had consented to use the pool at the big house. And he had absolutely refused to enter the house itself. She had no idea why this had made her appreciate him more.
"Don't forget to let me know about any luck the real-estate broker has," he remarked.
Her heart gave a small jump. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't forget to write." She bent forward, hugging herself in laughter. "Dear Doc," she recited. "Hurry home. We've bought out the whole block."
He laughed, turning his head to enjoy the sight of her. He was surprised at how much he wanted to kiss her. A little worried, too. His feelings for her were mixed. The passing of days -- and nights -- had seriously changed his first avuncular attitude toward her, and he took less pleasure than before in regarding her as just a kid. He could not afford to let himself think about her too much. He did not fancy marrying a rich young woman; with Uncle Nate in the background, it was impossible to consider Sharon anything else.
Sharon stole quick looks at him, wondering if he were quiet because he, too, hated the moment of parting ahead. She did not like to think of him going back to that big hospital with all those nurses -- she scowled. Doctors always seemed to marry nurses.
"Doc, do you suppose there would be any kind of job for me in the clinic when it's finished?" she asked.
He heard the wistfulness behind her words. "Hard to tell, Sharon. But why should you want a job, honey? You don't need to work."
"Maybe I do. I told Uncle Nate I wasn't just going to let him keep me -- I mean, after we get settled in the cottage. John -- " She 'was not aware that she had dropped the familiar "Doc" at that moment. "You know I've already told you how it is. Uncle Nate's being rich is just an accident. He doesn't like it any better than I do. We're just stuck with it."
Since she was all child for the moment, he found it easy to laugh at her. "Well, we'll see," he comforted her. "It's too bad you've neglected your education."
"I can type. I've worked before. I'm just not college material, Doc," she replied stubbornly. "It seems silly to go to college without some definite aim in mind, and I don't have any aim. I may take some courses this fall -- Oh, shoot, I'm just a no-talent flop, I guess."
"What about all that talent for motherhood?" he teased.
It was unexpectedly difficult to laugh. "Oh, that's out," she muttered. "You've got to figure on getting to be a wife before you start the motherhood bit."
"I think you'll make it all right," he said. "I think you'd make some young fellow a very nice wife."
Some young fellow. Sharon stared out at the passing scene, and the silence returned between them. At the airport, he slid from beneath the steering wheel and reached into the back seat for his luggage. "Don't wait, Sharon," he said. "My plane; about due, anyway." He stood watching her as she moved behind the wheel, and he smiled a little crookedly. She looked so solemn, and so darned young. "Goodbye, kid," he said. "Don't forget to write."
"I won't." She stared up at him, her mouth vulnerable.
He found himself staring at it. "Be good," he muttered, and bent forward, kissed the trembling lips briefly. "See you in a few weeks," he added, and hurried away.
She put her fingers against her lips, swallowed hard; then, with a horrible grinding of gears, she put the car in motion and roared away, blind to the indignant glances cast her way by outraged drivers.
She was hardly in a receptive mood when, upon arriving at home, she was confronted with a summons from her mother's room. "Okay, Andrews," she said to the butler, but without interest. She could not help feeling that, John's kiss had been a casual gesture. Goodbye, kid. Be good. Well, she had acted like a silly kid, getting all choked up just because he was leaving. He probably thought of her as a little sister, not a grown woman like those darned nurses who were probably all after him.
"What do you want?" she demanded when she entered her mother's bedroom without knocking. "What's the matter, Mother?" she added. "How come you' re in bed? Are you sick?"
"If she is, it's your fault," said Debbie, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Now, Debbie dear," her mother cautioned. "No quarrel, please. Debbie doesn't mean that, Sharon. Come in and sit down."
Mrs. Parker moved restlessly against her pillows. She was in bed because it had seemed wiser to feign illness for the servants' sake. "I had a talk with Uncle Nate today," she began, frowning faintly at her inability to avoid Sharon's eyes. "We -- we wanted to talk to you about him. Debbie called Dwayne and he should be along any minute." She looked toward Debbie a little should wait for helplessly. "Perhaps we him," she said falteringly.
Sharon's eyes had narrowed. A family conference in which she was included was unheard of. So Mother had had a talk with Uncle Nate, had she? Her expression became sardonic. If they had any idea of thwarting her life with Uncle Nate, they'd just better not try. Uncle Nate would never let her down, no matter what.
"I wish you'd sit down, dear," her mother said.
Sharon complied to the extent of resting a hip on the polished carved bar between the bed posters. She remained silent.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Debbie exploded. "Get that silly look off your face! If you could see yourself -- "
"Debbie, please. Don't antagonize her."
Sharon's eyebrows winged. What is this? she wondered, and broke her silence. "Look," she said brusquely, "if you have something to say to me, say it and get it over with. I'm busy."
"Busy, she says," scoffed Debbie. "Monkey business, that's what she's been up to!"
"Oh, thank goodness you're here -- " Mrs. Parker raised herself to extend arms to her son. "Dwayne, you talk to Sharon -- you explain -- "
"I wish somebody would," Sharon said, shrugging.
Dwayne wasted no words, having been apprised of the situation by telephone. "What's this about you and Uncle Nate being partners?" he demanded of Sharon. "Just what's your game?"
Sharon removed herself from her perch, but her mind was racing. She took a few steps away from them and turned; studying their faces individually, she saw the fear in their eyes.
"Oh, dear," her mother was saying, "Dwayne, I don't think that's the way to -- "
Sharon laughed.
"Now, look here," her brother shouted, but his mother's white face restrained him. "Look here, Sharon," he began again in a more conciliatory tone. "It's just that Uncle Nate could do me a big favor, and it seems you'll have something to do with his decision.
"Yes, yes," his mother approved. "We wanted to ask you not to -- not to do anything -- "
"Not to put your oar in and ruin everything," Debbie finished for her mother.
"Shut up, Sis," Dwayne said. "Let me handle this."
"Oh, Sharon, dear, please try to understand. Debbie is just upset for her brother."
It did not escape Sharon's notice that her mother did not think of Dwayne as her brother, too. She felt the old sense of being ouside the magic circle, but the old whimpering pain of it seemed attenuated. For a moment she wondered if it were over. She had a curious sense of power, but no joy in it. Being Uncle Nate's partner had no basis in fact. It was a warm touch of his hand, a wink exchanged, a flash of pride in his trust -- a token of his love. She had eschewed influence over the clinic incident to retain her own self-respect, and now, knowing Doc, she did not want to brandish a flaming sword of revenge even in fun.
She watched the three argue among themselves now as though she were not present, but they kept glancing at her, and it was clear she was very important to the issue. It bothered her that she could not enjoy it. Hadn't she all her life wanted to feel important to these three?
"Look," she said suddenly, and their eyes swung to her. "I take it that Dwayne wants Uncle Nate to give him a pretty large sum of money, and you think I can put the kibosh on the deal. Well, I -- " She found herself hesitating on the verge of assuring them she would do nothing to interfere. It was the expression in their eyes, so full of greed and -- something else -- hate? Hate of her? Yet all she had ever wanted of them was to be loved. "Just go ahead and stew about it!" she said cuttingly. "At the moment, if I don't get out of here, I may throw up all over your lovely carpet, Mother -- "
She fled, hardly hearing their cries of protest and anger. And quite to her surprise, when she reached her own room, she was rather violently sick all over the front of the good summer print she had worn for John Harrow's departure.
She stood under the biting sting of a cold shower presently, her eyes squeezed shut against the needles of cold upon her face, and she gritted her teeth against the agony of sobs that ripped through her throat. She wept helplessly, completely, without reason -- or knowledge of reason. She wept as only a girl, verging on womanhood, can weep -- for everything, for nothing. And even as her body bent beneath the spray, racked by sobs, a part of her stood off and was amazed at the spectacle; so flexible is youth and so enraptured of itself.
And it seemed to her, when the strange experience was over, that part of herself had been washed down the drain, so that she felt lighter and stronger for the loss. She felt subdued and yet curiously more alive. She hummed as she dressed, and before she went to the far end of the balcony to seek out her uncle in his room, she stood for a long time examining her face for evidence of change. The face that looked back at her was very disappointing, it being the same as always except for a redness about her eyelids.
At her uncle's door she tapped lightly, feeling out of breath. And when he called out "Come in," she entered with a new awareness. She had been in his room only once before and then for an unseeing moment. Now she took in the sparseness of furnishings with a new appreciation. Uncle Nate had no such suite of rooms as the Parkers occupied. This one squarish room with bath sufficed him; and his bed, a dresser, a deep armchair, a heavy desk with swivel chair, and a low two-shelved cabinet that held books were all there was to see. He was at his desk now, his back to her, and saying, "Be with you in a minute, my dear. Make yourself at home."
Sharon moved about quietly until she stood over the cabinet, then with frowning curiosity knelt to examine the books. Slowly, her eyes wide and astonished, she turned to stare at his back. "Why, Uncle Nate," she said softly. "Poetry -- it's all poetry."
"What's that, my dear?" He turned a little in his chair. "Oh, my books. Yes, yes, I'm afraid it's a weakness of mine. I'll be through here in a minute."
She felt she did not know him at all, but here in her hands now was a clue to his being. She counted off the poets to herself, beginning to smile: Housman, Tagore, Omar Khayyam, Frost, Browning (both Robert and Elizabeth Barrett), Whitman, Shakespeare, Ficke -- Why, Uncle Nate, she repeated silently.
"Well, now, that's that." He swung around, his blue eyes full of welcome. "Is this just a little visit, or is there something important that brings you to my little den?" he asked.
She set his Bible back on the shelf, but remained kneeling. She supposed she had come to talk to him on a serious matter, but it did not seem important now. "Just a visit," she said.
"Are you catching a cold? You sound thick in the throat."
She cleared her throat impatiently. "I just had a shower. Guess I swallowed some of it. I never catch colds."
His eyes did not fail to note the reddened eyelids, but he was the soul of tact. "Well, did you see our young doctor safely on his way?"
"Oh, yes." She frowned without reason. She did not want to talk about Doc. "Why didn't you tell me you read poetry?" she asked instead, and looked around the room, not waiting for an answer. "I like this room," she told him. "When we move, let's furnish our whole place like this. You know, simply -- no unnecessary clutter."
"I'm afraid my tastes are a bit stoical, my dear, but I do intend to take along what I have here for my room. You must suit yourself about the rest of the house."
"I'm stoical, too," she said. "On Tiger Tail Road my room was the plainest in the house."
"I had a call from the real-estate broker just now," he remarked. "Very encouraging. It looks as if we'll be able to give John some good news of your old street before long."
"Really?" Her heart leaped. She could write to Doc this very night! "Gee, that's fast work. Doc will be delighted."
He smiled. "I've just been writing to my banker in the East, arranging a transfer of funds. It's going to be a very costly project, Sharon, but well worthwhile."
The mention of money somersaulted Sharon's mind to the family conference she had fled from a short time before. "Uncle Nate," she said, getting to her feet. "There was something I came to talk to you about. I hate to, but I guess I have to." She crossed to his side, propped a hip on his desk. "It's about Dwayne. About something that happened this afternoon."
He thought the evidence of tears had involved John Harrow's departure. Now he wondered as his eyes narrowed slightly. "You saw your brother this afternoon?"
Her throat rasped in clearing. "I saw -- " She took a deep breath. "Mother called me in. They all talked to me. Oh, Uncle Nate, we're terrible people!"
He reached out and took one of her hands, squeezed it, and sighed inwardly. "Now, now," he comforted. "No need to tell me, my dear. I think I know. Your mother approached me on the subject earlier."
She bent forward. "You told her we were partners. You let her think your answer depended upon me. Uncle Nate, I don't want anything to do with it. I -- I -- I got sick just thinking about it."
"Oh, my dear."
"It's all right now. I don't care. But I don't want anything to do with it," she repeated.
His face hardened. "Don't worry yourself about it at all," he said. "I'm having some inquiries made. I'm quite willing to help your brother, if the need is justified. However, I'd have been better pleased if he had come to me with his proposition himself."
She found herself laughing. "Oh, Uncle Nate, you just don't know him," she cried. "He always gets what he wants by devious methods. He's not really very brave at all. But then," she added, curiously tolerant, "it's not all his fault. Mother had always liked being the one to get things for him. She's a very -- very possessive person. At least about the twins."
"So I've noticed." He looked tired for a moment, but brightened. "Well, we won't worry about it. I thought I'd take a walk and see how the work on our cottage is going. Want to come along?"
"Gosh, yes. Another thing. I was thinking Mr. and Mrs. Harrow might be feeling lonesome tonight with Doc gone. Maybe they would like some company."
"I meant to tell you. Beth wants us for dinner."
"Great! All right, let's go." She whirled away, came to a halt by the bookshelves. "Would you mind if I borrowed one?" she asked.
"Help yourself. You like poetry, too?"
"Love it." She chose a volume, held it up. "This Arthur Davison Ficke is new to me. All right?"
"Of course. He's not a new poet, my dear. And not read as much as he deserves. A great favorite of mine. Take it along. I'll just wash up a bit and be right with you.''
She carried the slim volume along to her own room, opening it to the flyleaf as she went. To dear Nate; she read.
With heartfelt gratitude and love. Louise.
Sharon stared at the delicate, spidery handwriting. Who was Louise? The woman Uncle Nate had loved: She turned the pages, was caught by two lines underlined, and read:
My humors and my madness, fierce or cold,
I have told you all: my love I have not told.
A little shiver went through her. But it was not of Uncle Nate or the stranger, Louise, that she thought. Winging into her mind without warning came a face, startlingly clear, squarish, and brown-eyed. She put the book down quickly.
Gosh, Doc, she thought.
Chapter Ten
Lorraine Talmadge Parker looked away from the thin, harassed face of Herman Carlson, who sat across the room from her with tortured eyes that begged her for help.
"I had to talk to someone, Lorraine," he had said in explaining his unexpected visit. "And since your husband is my wife's twin brother, I thought you might understand -- "
She understood all too well, but she did not wish to be drawn into it. Even thinking about it hurt; it brought home to her too sharply her own position. It was better not to think about things too much, better to just let the days flow over one, and accept what could not be changed. But now Hermie had told her something too shocking to be believed. She could not escape it. For if Hermie was distraught, he was. also incapable of dissembling.
"I figured you didn't know," he said a little sternly. "Lorraine, do you understand what it means? I know you love Dwayne just as I love my wife, but even more than I, you have been shutting your eyes to some pretty harsh truths."
"He loves me, Hermie: I know he does. Don't ask me to believe Dwayne would be so cruel. He knows anything I have is his for the asking."
Hermie took no pleasure in hurting her. He had come here, after long deliberation, to help her as much as to be helped. "But," he told her, "what he wants you have no power to give, Lorraine. Oh, you could forbid the sale of the stock you hold. You could do that, I suppose, but if the corporation that holds the controlling interest in Talmadge's should decide to sell out, and Dwayne raises the necessary funds to buy, you must see that he would then be in a position to turn his back on you. Lorraine, I don't want to hurt you, but I know about this. My wife told me. I'm breaking a promise to her in telling you, but things have come to such a pass in my own marriage that I just can't go on pretending I don't see what is happening. I like you. I think you deserve better at your husband's hands. As for my own marriage -- " his thin, rather high-pitched voice broke a little -- "I'm doing the only thing I know how to bring Debbie to her senses -- or lose her completely."
For all his appearance of hollow-eyed suffering, he was, Lorraine felt, much stronger than she was. "I love him," she said helplessly. "I know he loves me."
Hermie ran his fingers through his long dark hair, his mind picking up the idle thought that he had not yet remembered to get a haircut. "Well, I had to tell you. I'm sorry to have hurt you, Lorraine, but it didn't seem fair to leave you in the dark and unprepared if Dwayne manages to enlist Uncle Nate's help."
Her tiredness weighed upon her. She did not want to believe him, but too many little things had been happening of late for a flat denial. The odd way Dwayne looked at her at times, even the way he kissed her. She had always tried to deny to herself a certain coldness about him and the impossibility of really reaching him. Oh, she was so dreadfully tired. The doctor said anemia, but it was more than that. The moments of breathlessness did not worry her so much as the moments of painless inertia in her very soul.
"It can't be," she said faintly. "I can't lose him. He's all I have. Without him, I just couldn't -- couldn't live."
Her pallor and the great tragic eyes smote Hermie's conscience. He had felt she should know what he himself had known for some time. Now he wondered if he had been wrong to make her face the truth about Dwayne Parker.
He stood up and went to her. "Are you all right?" he asked, troubled. "Should I call your maid? You look ill, Lorraine."
She smiled, and it was worse, he thought, than if she had broken down in sobs. "I'm just tired," she said. "If you'll excuse me now, Hermie, I think I'll lie down." Her eyes roved over his face as she got to her feet. "Don't feel bad," she said. "I understand. You're a kind man, Hermie, and I know it wasn't easy for you -- " She turned away, then back. "Why do we love them?" she asked. "Why, Hermie?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. They're not bad. In a way -- I've sometimes thought -- they have been victimized by Mrs. Parker. And she herself often seems a victim of her own strange worship of them. I don't know, Lorraine. I just know I can't live with it anymore -- and have any self-respect left. For over six years I've drifted -- even at our happiest, there was always Mrs. Parker. The unbreakable trinity." He laughed bitterly. "I'm getting out before it breaks me."
"Oh, no. Debbie needs you." A spark of life flared for a moment in her eyes. "Dwayne needs me. Don't you see, Hermie? We mustn't let go. We must keep believing it will all come out right."
His pity for her overwhelmed him. "Let me call Mattie," he begged, frightened at the way she looked. "You're ill, Lorraine. Have you seen a doctor?"
"Oh, yes, it's nothing. Just go now, Hermie. And thank you. I know you meant well. I appreciate -- " She turned as a stout, matronly-looking woman came in without knocking. "Oh, Mattie," Lorraine smiled. "Mr. Carlson is just leaving. She takes such good care of me, Hermie, and scolds me -- "
"It's time for your nap," the woman said as though to a naughty child, but her eyes examined the pallor, saw the trembling of the hands, then lifted sharply to the man. "She must rest, Mr. Carlson," she snapped.
"Yes, I agree." Hermie frowned at Mattie worriedly. "I had no idea," he said. "Does Dwayne realize?"
"Goodbye, Hermie," Lorraine said sharply.
Mattie shook her head at him briefly behind Lorraine's back as she led her mistress away, and signaled him to wait. Hermie moved restlessly about the room, not sure he had read her signal right, but reluctant to leave without easing his own sense of nagging guilt.
Mattie came back presently. "Mr. Carlson, she's lying down. I wanted to talk to you -- someone in the family -- about her. I'm very worried about her, and for all her look of compliance, she has a stubborn streak where her husband is concerned. She refuses to allow me to talk to him. Dr. Welles has wanted to consult with Mr. Parker for some time, but she will not permit it. Oh, Mr. Carlson, it just breaks my heart the way she taxes her strength to appear well for her husband. And he's so blind -- "
Hermie looked angry. "Nobody could be that blind! Just what's wrong with her, Mattie? She looks terrible."
"Well, this is one of her bad days. Pernicious anemia," Mattie told him. "As you probably know, the disease comes and goes, but it's more than just that. The doctor is concerned for her heart now." She hesitated, as though wondering if she were saying too much, but Hermie Carlson had such a kind face.
"She's very clever about appearing well to her husband," she went on, "so in a way he can't be blamed. I hope you'll respect my confidence, Mr. Carlson. She'd never f or-give me if she knew I was talking to a member of the family this way, but I'm so worried. She's had so much illness -- and now, recently, the disappointment of not being able to have the child her husband wants so much -- "
Hermie almost laughed at this. Dwayne Parker hungered for fatherhood? Oh, brother, he thought, but he merely sought now to assure worried Mattie that he himself was trustworthy; and after a moment or two more of listening to her troubled voice, he escaped. He was not at all sorry he had exposed Dwayne to Lorraine, although sorry to have hurt her. Her health and happiness surely would be better served if she faced up to a few truths, as he himself had recently had to do. Still, he felt troubled. Almost without volition, Sharon entered his mind, and back at his office he obeyed an impulse and telephoned her. "Sure," she answered him. "I'll meet you, but I don't know what I can do about your crazy wife. It isn't? Lorraine?" Her voice quickened. "Okay, Hermie. I'll be right there." And to Uncle Nate she said, "You won't want the car for anything for a while, will you? I've just had the oddest call from Hermie. He wants me to meet him downtown. What do you think?"
"Meet him, of course."
"Yes, but -- Uncle Nate, maybe you'd better come with me."
"Did he asnwer me?"
"No, but it's something about Lorraine. Why would Hermie want to talk to me about her? I certainly don't want any more of that family-conference business!"
"I doubt if Hermie would plead your brother's case or Lorraine enlist his help in doing so. But you won't know if you don't run along and find out. Just watch your temper, my dear. I'm here if you need me."
Sharon found Hermie waiting for her in the small cafe he had designated as the meeting place, and she forgot everything else in surprise at the change in him. He looked very tired and drawn, but older, more mature -- and oddly, more attractive. And, too, Sharon decided she must like him more than she thought for she had missed him.
"Well?" she demanded brightly. "What's on your mind, Hermie? Nice to see you again."
He had been rather regretting his impulse, but now, seeing Sharon's bright, honest face, he smiled. "I guess I've just missed you," he said. "Nice to see you, too." Then, frowning, "Sharon I've been to see Lorraine -- " Quickly he related the meeting.
Sharon sat back, her eyes sick. "I've never trusted Dwayne particularly, but I didn't think him capable of such a scurvy plan. And you say Mother knows?"
He nodded. "It was she who told Debbie -- or hinted at it so broadly that Debbie couldn't help putting two and two together. I don't think Debbie meant to tell me. It just slipped out when we were arguing. And it was what really decided the whole thing for me, Sharon."
"I don't understand all this business about stocks and bonds, Hermie, but I know Dwayne is smart. And I guess I've known all along that he just married Lorraine to get a foothold in Talmadge's. But" -- she brightened -- "Uncle Nate hasn't decided yet, and he likes Lorraine. When I tell him, I'm sure he won't help Dwayne."
"I wish I hadn't told Lorraine. I tell you, Sharon, Lorraine is ill. That maid of hers, Mattie, is worried about her -- "
"I haven't been to see her for some time. Are you sure, Hermie? Rainey always looks pale and tired -- "
"Sharon, she's ill. She told me herself she's been to a doctor and Mattie said the doctor wanted to talk with Dwayne and Lorraine won't permit it."
"Dwayne hates ill health. He can't stand to be around anybody who's the least bit sickly." Sharon turned away from him. "Hermie," she said at last, "don't feel bad about telling her. Even if Uncle Nate refuses to help Dwayne and nothing comes of his plan, it's better that she knows him for what he is. Maybe now she'll leave him."
His eyes looked tired. "I'm afraid not," he said. "It isn't so easy to kill love, Sharon."
She frowned at him. "I suppose that means you still love Debbie," she said. "I don't understand it. How can you respect her? And what good is love without respect? I don't mean to make you feel bad, Hermie. I really don't understand."
"It wasn't all Debbie's fault," he said. He looked at Sharon with a twisted hint of a smile. "You know, Sharon, you should be glad you are not your mother's favorite child. In a lot of ways you are better off than Debbie ever was." He saw her face change, grow very young and vulnerable, and he understood how his words fell upon barren soil. "I really mean it," he told her. "My mother-in-law," he added, "is a very possessive woman."
Sharon was not ready to see any advantage in having never been thought worth possessing by her mother. "I suppose you'll go crawling back to Debbie any day now," she said.
He smiled genuinely for the first time. "You know, Sharon, I've always liked you and wished my wife had more of your independence. It's just recently that I've rediscovered my own."
To be told she was liked never failed to move Sharon. "You mean, you're not going back to her?"
He shook his head. "Oh, no. I mean, yes, I mean that, but I haven't completely given up that she will find her way back to me. It's either that or it's all over for us."
Without thought, Sharon said quickly, "Mother will never let her." Her eyes widened. "Oh -- is that what you mean about me being better off than Debbie?"
"Oh, yes. You see, Sharon, you can grow up. Debbie can't. Or at least as long as your mother has anything to say about it."
Sharon shrugged. "You've always acted as if you liked Mother."
He looked away. "For six years I tried to get along with everybody. The eternal optimist, I guess. I love Debbie, Sharon, and I just kept hoping something would happen -- " He laughed shortly. "Like Lorraine, I guess, I kept fooling myself it would all come out all right if I were patient. Then this move to Skyline Drive happened."
"Why didn't you just put your foot down about it?"
"I don't know. Tired, I guess. But once we were there, Sharon, something started happening to me. Pride -- and anger and -- " He gestured with sudden impatience. "But it's Lorraine I asked you to meet me about. I'm not really sorry I told her, and yet I am. Maybe I just wanted someone -- you -- to reassure me."
"It's what I'd have done myself," Sharon admitted. "If Lorraine just weren't ill! But it's better to be prepared, and ill or not, she's intelligent. Gosh, love isn't really blind, is it?"
"Well, it certainly can work havoc with the emotions," he said, and smiled at her. "I can't imagine anything blinding you for long, though, Sharon."
"Uncle Nate says we all have our blind spots."
Hermie frowned. "Well, there's nothing I can do about Lorraine now, I guess. But you will tell Uncle Nate about it, won't you?"
"You bet. We don't have any secrets."
"I probably should have gone to him myself," he said, "but after practically throwing his money in his face and stomping out of his house, I didn't think he'd care to see me."
"Oh, you're wrong!. He's not like that at all. He'd even cut off all Debbie's charge accounts if he thought it would help."
"No, don't let him do that, Sharon. I don't want my wife back for any reason but -- well, the only reason that matters."
"You're a good guy, Hermie. Debbie doesn't know how lucky she is. For your sake, I hope she grows up soon."
He sighed. "We'll see. Meanwhile, go to see Lorraine, will you?"
"You bet. I really should have gone long ago. I've just been so busy."
"You and Uncle Nate," he said, smiling. "I really like that little man, Sharon. It's just too bad -- " He broke off. "Well, I've got to get back to the office. Keep in touch."
"Sure. Are you living at home now?"
"No, I have a room near the office. My folks wanted me to move back home, but I think it's better this way. Parents have a way of taking sides, you know."
She nodded. "Do you want me to let Debbie know where you are staying?"
"She knows." He slid from the booth. "She knows where to find me, if she wants to," he added.
Sharon thought he sounded sad. "Good luck, Hermie," she said as they parted. "If it helps any, Debbie doesn't look too happy herself these days. Doin' an awful lot of bawlin' by the look of her," she added, and left him, pleased to have aroused a glint of hope in his tired eyes.
On the way back to his shabby little room, Hermie felt suddenly very much in need of a woman. Yes, that's what I'll do, he told himself, to show up Debbie. I'll get another woman.
In his attempt to satisfy his newly developed urges, Hermie went to a little bar down the street from where he was staying. He joined a fairly attractive woman at the bar, bought her a few drinks, and got what he thought to be a nice conversation going. At times, she even reached out to touch his leg, something he found very exciting.
When he mentioned that it was getting late and that he had a room nearby, the woman all but agreed to accompany Hermie. But as he helped her put on her coat, Hermie heard her ask for money. And then he realized what he had stepped into. Had Debbie driven him this far, to the point of picking up prostitutes? He paused for a moment, and then he answered, Yes! So be it.
And off they went.
Hermie told himself, while they were getting undressed, that all he wanted was some good, quick sex. Something Debbie had been good at, true. But he was eager to see what a woman who had been around the block could do to compare with his wife. Sure, Debbie could give a great blow-job, he thought. But then again, he had never received a blow-job from any woman besides Debbie.
After the woman told Hermie how much her services cost, he decided to go for the whole thing. In fact, he even offered her enough to spend the entire night. What the hell? he thought. If you're going to pay for it, you might as well get the works.
The young woman, a sultry blonde who called herself Nancy, began by giving Hermie what she called Around-the-World. She bagan by licking his feet and toes, ever so gently. Her tongue felt so good he could hardly believe it. He thought he would start laughing, thinking her tongue against his foot would be ticklish. But the feeling was far from ticklish. That was obvious from the way his cock was standing straight up.
Slowly, Nancy made her way up his legs, pausing just long enough to make the edge of his excitement that much keener. Hermie was growing hotter and hotter just anticipating how good it was going to feel when she finally got to his cock.
Yeah, Debbie, he sighed inwardly. Eat your heart out!
Nancy eventually reached his crotch, but not before Hermie was pumping his hips up and down, eagerly awaiting the first touch of her lips on his cock.
"Easy, now," she said. "You paid for the whole night. You don't want to lose it all at once, do you?"
"Don't worry, honey," he groaned. "You keep doing it like you're doing it, and I guarantee there'll be plenty more where that came from."
"Where what came from?" she asked, teasing him.
"My cum, honey," he gasped. "My cum!"
Just a few seconds later, Hermie shot his load. Nancy tried valiantly to lick up his madly spewing drops of jism, but to no avail. Hermie was packing too much cum for her to get it all down. After a few more spurts, white globs of sperm lay all over Hermie's belly and thighs.
"Ooooo, it's so nice," she cooed, dipping her finger into his cum and spreading it around his legs. "And I hope you have more, honey. Lots more!"
After patiently caressing and licking Hermie's spent cock, the skillful prostitute managed to get his cock hard again. She was actually feeling a bit horny when Hermie sprouted his new erection, and she eagerly straddled him, jamming his penis into her wet pussy.
"There," she groaned. "Now let's see if you can't last a little longer this time, okay, honey?"
"Sure, baby," he replied. "Oh, that's good. Man, my wife never fucked me like this before!"
"Oh, so you're a married man," Nancy giggled. "Don't you know it's naughty for a married man to be out fucking with strange women?"
"Honey, you're not strange. Not strange in the least. Now why don't you lean over so I can suck some of that good tittie. Yeah,. like that. Ohhhh ... mmmmmpff ... "
While Hermie bit into Nancy's hanging titflesh, he pumped as hard as he could into her cunt. He could tell that his next orgasm would be a long time coming, but he was prepared to wait. In fact, he was going to enjoy every second of the wait.
Nate Dugall said very little when Sharon went to him with a full report of the meeting with Hermie. He stood with his back to her in her sitting room, and a little breeze stirred the tufts of his white hair at the open window.
"Well, Uncle Nate?" Frowning, Sharon went to stand at the window beside him and put an arm about his shoulders. "I have a feeling you think Hermie did wrong."
"He meant well."
"It's only right that Lorraine should have a chance to do something about Dwayne now, before he really humiliates her," Sharon insisted. "Uncle Nate, she's too good for him, and she's ill. She has a kind of pride, even if she does let him walk all over her."
"Well, my dear, it is possible Dwayne may be able to raise the money he needs elsewhere, but I doubt it. And since I have already decided against helping him, it's possible that Hermie has upset Lorraine unnecessarily."
"But would you want her to go on living in a fool's paradise?" cried Sharon. "If it is any kind of Paradise," she added, muttering. "Better that she finds out what Dwayne is now than later, when she might be really ill."
Uncle Nate gave her a slanting glance. "It's just possible that Lorraine prefers not to know. I even doubt that she believed Hermie today," he said dryly.
Sharon scowled. "Hermie did say that she said something about how Dwayne wouldn't do such a thing. Uncle Nate, how can she not see what he is?"
He turned away from the window. "My dear, most of us believe only what suits us, and Lorraine has led a sheltered life. The reality of her husband might be too much for her."
"Uncle Nate, you make me feel awful. And Poor Hermie. Now that he sees his mistakes with Debbie, he only wanted to make Lorraine see, too, I guess."
"Yes, yes." He patted her arm, sighed, and went to the door. At least one thing I can tell you, Sharon, from now on, this money I never asked for will do no more mischief at my hands. I've turned over our affairs to a competent firm that will handle all our business and advise about investments, donations, and outright gifts. I've made a mess of it, and you are too young to have the burden of responsibility on your shoulders."
His sad face and his grave tone made Sharon want to run to him comfortingly, but it was not the time for impulsive action. She walked over to him and bent her head toward him. "I'm glad," she said. "All the gold in the world isn't worth one moment of your looking like you do right now. Uncle Nate, you're the best person who ever lived, and none of this is your fault. Everybody just has to wake up and fly right." She took his arm and drew him back into the room. "Look, Uncle Nate, I've thought a lot about money lately because I've had to see what it can do and can't do." She turned away from his now steady gaze. "I guess it was Doc who started me thinking about it. Uncle Nate, it's a wonderful thing-not to have to worry about money, to have enough for your needs and a little left over, but look at the Harrows. Life would certainly have been easier for them if they had had money, but as Mrs. Harrow says, she and Dad Harrow would never have felt the satisfaction of knowing, whenever Doc saves a life, that a little of them went into making it possible. Uncle Nate, whatever you do, don't ever give them anything. I mean, anything big." She gave a tuft of his hair a little tug. "And don't tell me you haven't been fooling around with the idea of giving them their cottage for good."
His somber air had disappeared as she talked. His heart swelled with pride and love of her, this child of his heart, who was learning so fast and always must declare herself with passion. He chuckled, and hearing the infectious sound, Sharon hugged him, laughing. "You have, haven't you?" she insisted.
"No, not really," he defended himself. "I just hate to think of them leaving when John is established."
She stared over his head. "Yeah," she said.
"But that won't be for some time yet, and they will still be here in Brookings," he told her consolingly. "And right now, I must get along, my dear. I'm not looking forward to telling your mother that Dwayne must do without my help."
"Just tell her you're doing it for his own good." Sharon grinned. "To save her golden boy from a life of shame and deceit." She struck a pose. "Oh, what a tangled web we weave -- Hey, Uncle Nate, tell her no matter how pretty he'd look in it, we Just must save her darling from being Jost in a web of gold!"
He went away, still chuckling. A web of gold, he thought. And the world seemed more and more to-value the glitter and put it above everything else. But for himself and for Sharon, the gold of sunshine, with a few coppers for bread and some silver for laughter, would do nicely. And, too, he added, enjoying his fancy, a handful of love for him from a laughing girl, all for himself, until a world of love for another burst into full bloom from the bud he so clearly saw within her -- but she did not yet see for herself.
Later that evening, Uncle Nate felt an overwhelming desire to be alone. He excused himself early from dinner and went to his study. After reading a few of his favorite books of poetry over a few drinks of his favorite brandy, he drifted into thought.
At first, his mind was filled with daydreams and casual remembrances. But then deeper, more pressing and important thoughts began assaulting him. Yes, he had to do something. Things were getting out of hand, and he knew that unless he intervened things might get chaotic and nasty.
So he spent the remainder of the evening devising what he thought would be an effective plan of action.
Early the next morning, Uncle Nate sought out John Harrow. They sat across from one another with the chessboard between them in John's living room. As John began setting up the pieces, Nate reached out and stopped the old gardener.
No, Nate had not come to play chess and share casual conversation. Nate had important business to discuss with his friend Harrow. And it wasn't long before the two men were talking in earnest.
At first, Nate had been hesitant about his plan, wondering if he weren't being too cruel. But after talking with John he realized that his plan was perfect for the situation.
And Nate wasted no time putting his plan into action.
Two days later, moving vans were lined up in front of his house. Nate's
relatives bustled about making last-minute attempts to clear out their closets and get their things in order. Because for all intents and purposes, Nate Dugall had evicted everyone in the house. He promised the servants that he would continue to pay them their salaries until he could rent the place out to some more agreeable tenants. But everyone else had to go. And his word was final.
He knew that it would take a long, long time -- if at all -- for his relatives to see the worth and value of his decision. But after all, he had invited them there and they had turned into unreasonable guests. He was only giving them what they deserved -- and perhaps even more than that. Because out from under his protective wing, Nate's relatives would have to fend for themselves. And he knew that they would be better off for it in the long run.
Yet he made different arrangements for his niece Sharon. Nate made it plain that she was free to accompany her relatives, but that he would be overjoyed if she would agree to stay with him in the new cottage until he had rented out his home.
Sharon agreed readily, happy to be alone with her uncle at last without the negative influences of her family.
After the initial excitement had worn off, Sharon got to thinking about John. She knew he would be returning in a short while, and she hoped that he would still find her attractive and agreeable. For she was certain that she was failing in love with him.
When John did return later that month, Nate presented the young doctor with a special proposition. Nate made his announcement at a dinner gathering over at the Harrow's modest cottage.
"I've decided," he told everyone, "to subsidize John's plans for the medical center. I've worked out a plan with my financial experts and have decided to buy the lot on Tiger Tail Road. John and I can discuss the terms of the lease later."
Everyone was overjoyed. The news was almost too good for both John and Sharon to believe. And after dinner they went for a short walk to talk about their feelings.
Stopping under a tall oak tree, John took Sharon into his arms and studied the way the moonlight highlighted her smooth skin. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she watched him say, "You know, darling, I love you very much."
"Yes, John?" she replied expectantly, intuitively understanding that he had much more to tell her.
"Well, when we get the medical center off the ground, I want you to work there, for me, in the office."
"That would be wonderful, John," she said, wondering if things could possibly get any better.
John then looked away, as if gathering the courage to continue speaking. Taking a deep breath, he blurted out, "And I also want you to be my wife."
"Oh, John!" she cried. "That would be wonderful!"
She moved forward and kissed John deeply, holding him as tight as she could. Never before had she felt so thrilled, and yet so at peace with the world.
"But there's only one problem," John said quietly, pulling away from Sharon. "While trying to pay off the mortgage for the center, I don't know if we'll have enough for a house. Or even an apartment."
"I think Nate took care of that, too," Sharon said. "The other day he told me he might be taking off for an extended vacation through Europe. He said I could have the cottage."
As John held her tightly, Sharon felt extremely happy and content. But she also realized that her life was just beginning, and that she would be taking on a whole new set of responsibilities. She felt a brief moment of anxiety, but then she thought about her family and her in-laws and all the problems they had created -- and the way they had eventually paid for their foolishness. Having learned one important lesson from her family's failure, she knew that if she and John put their minds to it they couldn't help but succeed.
