Carol pulled around to the back of the motel, where there was a pool of darkness in the sea of bright lights, and cut the engine. She sat inside the car and felt the pulse of blood through her body quicken. With the quickening came a sense of despair and dirtiness, even though this was perhaps the twentieth time she had come here to meet Al. If anything, the feeling of sordidness was worse than the time before, and it would be still stronger next week.
She put her hand on the door handle and hesitated. She knew she should start the car and back away and run home. She should stop coming here before she got to the point where she couldn't live with herself or with Frank any more because of the dirtiness. But the burning, pulsing throbs of need in her womb made her pussy squirm and leak fluid into her panties, and she knew she wouldn't turn back tonight or the next night either.
Her labia began to grow puffy as they swelled with readiness to accept the brutal length of Al's prick again. Her clit budded outward from under its tent, and the pressure of her heated thighs, squeezing softly in from the sides, made it tingle. Her fingers tightened around the handle as if impatient. Carol's feelings of cheapness became fuzzy as her mind began its weekly act of rationalization. The tips of her breasts bloated and pressed against the fabric of her bra, filling the cups in the same way desire filled her body and excuses filled her mind.
She was already here. She needed a good, strong, blinding orgasm. One more time-what did it matter if she did it one more time? Next week, she would . . .
Carol shivered slightly and opened her thighs, pressing hard against her pussy with the heel of her hand, wondering why she didn't simply tickle herself off to relieve the ache of Frank's absence, instead of going through the baseness she would endure inside the cement-block cubicle with Al. She promised herself to try, but the pledge was hollow.
As if without her volition, the car door opened, and the interior light blazed on her like a spotlight. She slid out into the night and cut the offending glare. The door where Al would be was up the stairs at the end, four down. The catwalk was half in shadow from a burned-out bulb. Carol was glad for that. Although the chances of being seen and recognized were slight, the town was small, and the university community even smaller. Frank's career would be ruined if she were seen.
A warm, salt-laden breeze blew in from the ocean in gentle puffs, tickling up under her skirt to play around her crotch and remind her how wet and ready she was. With a sigh of resignation, she capitulated to her body's relentless need and began walking toward the cement stairs that led to the rooms on the second floor. She tiptoed on the steps so as not to make her heels click. When she was halfway up, a car pulled into the office area, the lights sweeping over her stealthy figure as it bounced over the hump from street to driveway. An aging man got out stiffly, stretched, and stumbled around toward the office.
Carol hurried up the rest of the stairs hugging the wall, knocking lightly on the door in the usual way. The door swung open, and light bathed her. She jumped inside the room and didn't look at Al as he shut the door and turned to her.
"Christ, what took you so long?" he grated coarsely. "I thought maybe you weren't coming. You wouldn't stand me up, would you?" He reached for her, trying to make her look up at him.
"I've asked you a hundred times to turn the light off before you open the door," she said sharply, still looking at the floor.
"Shit," he said. "Nobody's out there watching. What's the matter, Frank getting suspicious? He's two hundred miles out in the ocean tonight, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"Then what's the sweat? Aw, come here, baby. You just need a stiff peter to calm your nerves a little. You get as jumpy as a beaver with his balls in a trap when you don't get fucked regular."
Carol's gaze swept over the rumpled bed where Al had been lying and smoking and then turned up to his thick-featured face.
"Al, I don't want to do this any more," she said in a rush of words.
His black eyes went steely for an instant, and then his thick, wet lips spread back, lining his face deeply.
"Yeah, you say that every time now." He pulled her against him roughly and reached under her skirt without warning, digging his fingers between her thighs. "Your sloppy pussy says different, baby," he grated huskily.
Carol tried to protest, but the sound came out as a moan of pleasure when his fingertips smeared the discharge from her pussy over the nylon barrier, making her lips puff outward even farther. He molded their soft outlines with his hand until she heard her heels clack against the floor as she braced her legs apart. Her pelvis tipped up and rocked back and forth under the firm pressure of Al's palm on her buttocks, until she realized the palm was gone and the rocking was her own motion.
Al kissed her roughly and mashed her breasts against his chest until she was puffing harshly. Then he lifted back and chuckled thickly.
"Now tell me what it is you don't want to do-next week or now or any time."
She gave up and fell limply against him, wanting to sob. The tears wouldn't come. There was no point in tears. They wouldn't satisfy her emotional and sexual hungers any more than Frank satisfied them. There was only one way to do that, and she was here, with Al, to do it now.
"All right," she said finally. "I want to."
"You want to what?" he demanded.
"I want to go to bed with you-right now."
Carol said it heavily, disliking the crude game he insisted on playing.
"Come on, you can do better than that. Is that what they teach you in that college-how to talk prissy?"
"I want to fuck that big prick of yours," she said.
"That's better, baby," Al grinned, making it a half sneer. "I ain't as educated as a professor's wife, so you'll have to talk my language, just so one of us doesn't get any ideas of being superior or something. Not as bright, but I can fuck you better than he can. That's gotta be right, else you wouldn't come up to see old Al once or twice a week, isn't it, baby?"
"Yes," Carol whimpered, hating him for treating her this way.
She felt his hand smooth over her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them thoroughly until her nipples burned for his fleshy lips to suck them. He reached around to the zipper at her back, ran it down, and reached inside the gap to palm her full buttocks inside her panties. Electric charges shot through her crotch, and a gasp she couldn't contain welled up inside her and erupted from her full lips.
"Puffing already, are you?" he chuckled. "You've got it extra bad tonight. That's good, because so do I. I got steamed up lying on that bed wondering if you were going to show up tonight. But I shouldn't have worried. I knew you would. A pussy like yours is too hot to go off and leave unattended for a week at a time the way the professor does it. Too bad I can't get in town more often than I do, huh?"
"Are you going to talk all night?" she asked, wanting to still his voice that grated in her ears like rusty machinery.
She pulled the top of her dress off her arms and pushed the skirt over her hips and thighs, lifting it to a chair. She glanced down and saw the large, dark area of wetness over her pussy where her fluids had soaked into her blue panties. Al looked with her, running his eyes over her body appreciatively as he always did. It was one of the things that made her visits to him bearable, because Frank never looked at her that way.
"You know, I fuck a lot of broads, being on the road the way I am," he said crudely. "But you're one of the best, Carol. You got a figure like I wouldn't believe for one in her middle thirties. That's from no kids, you can take my word for it. Skin them panties off and let me look at those sweet pussy lips of yours."
Carol didn't hesitate. She'd grown used to his blunt observations. Once she'd gotten over the crudeness of them, they'd pleased her. She knew her body was in good condition for her age. She suspected it was because she'd had no children. When she'd found out she couldn't have them and had watched other women her age start sagging and growing lumpy in the wrong places, she'd been secretly glad. But novelty had worn off and become frustration under Frank's casual acceptance of her.
"At least you appreciate me, Al," she said, giving voice to her thoughts. "Go ahead and look. Feast your eyes on it. Frank never does."
Al chuckled thickly again and licked his fleshy lips. He stared at the down of light buff, just a shade darker than her blonde hair. It glistened around the smooth, spreading lips of her cunt from her leaking juices.
"Gorgeous, baby, gorgeous," he said huskily. "Now the bra. God, I dream about those jugs of yours sometimes."
Carol looked at the tenting area of his pants, already lusting for the big, stiff prick pushing them out. The hairy, dark-purple, disgusting prick that was an extension of the man himself-repulsive to her but so totally satisfying sexually that she came back again and again for another taste of it.
She reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. She slid the garment from her arms, and her firm breasts tilted up freely, their nipples distended and red with readiness. She cupped them in her hands and shook them at him in the way he liked, vaguely wondering how Frank would react if she were to shake them at him.
Like a hairy, dark-headed, primitive beast, Al dipped down and wrapped his wet, thick lips around one of Carol's nipples and sucked half the end of her breast into his mouth. His fingers worked coarsely at her crotch, spreading and rolling her firm labia until wet sounds came from her vagina. She cupped the back of his head with her hands and whimpered, rocking her pussy shamelessly into his hand at the same time.
"Al, hurry!" she cried, feeling sensation build in her to the point of explosion.
He drew back and grinned. "That's the way I like to have you, baby," he said. "Begging for it."
He slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, watching her move to the bed as if she were in pain. She stretched out on the bed and shook, then cupped her crotch with her hand.
"Go ahead-play with it," Al said, sliding his pants down his fur-covered legs. "That excites me, to watch a broad play with her own cunt. But not too much, hear?" he threatened. "I wouldn't want you getting any ideas you could get along without me while your professor's gone."
Carol closed her eyes. She found the suggestion degrading. She didn't feel right touching herself when she was alone. Doing it while Al was watching would be unthinkable. She felt his approach toward the end of the bed and looked to see him staring hungrily up between her open thighs.
"Go on, play with it," he said.
She lifted her arms for him. "Come on, Al, get on me," she pleaded. She looked at his hairy cock bowing out from his middle like a bent spear of asparagus growing from black, wiry grass. She could barely see the skin of his nuts through the rank growth. She felt her tunnel squirm inside for the intrusion of this primeval being into its depths, and she rolled her hips on the bed in readiness.
"I said play with it," he repeated more firmly.
"I don't want to, Al-I want you to get on me and do it right!" she cried. "Oh, please hurry."
He gripped her wrist, forcing her arm down until her hand lay over the swollen gap of her twat. He pushed back and forth with it, making her fingers slide up and down her cleft. Carol moaned and turned her head to the side as if to avoid watching her debasement.
Without her volition, one of Carol's fingers crooked so that the tip of it pressed into the slime-coated tissues of her vulva. It rippled over the knob of her clit and sent sensation through her in a sudden jolt. She whimpered and felt her hips jerk upward.
"That's it, baby," Al chuckled. "Feels good, doesn't it? Pretend it's me. God damn, do it some more, and I'll have a bone on like a steel rod in no time."
Filled with shame and degradation, Carol rolled her fingertip over her clit again and again, letting the physical sensation build in her. The irony of it passed through her mind. She'd been wanting a way to stop having to come here to see Al, and now he was teaching her how. Her buttocks clenched tightly together as she felt her orgasm coming despite the shame of it.
"Not so much," he said sharply, yanking her hand away. He knelt on the bed and climbed over her. "Look what you did to me," he said.
Carol opened her eyes. His cock thrust hugely along the plane of her flat belly. The big eye was spread, and it showed pink inside, like a dot of light in the center of the angry-purple head. She imagined the way it would spasm and spit inside her body, and she clutched it in her hand, feeling the solid shaft throb slightly under her fingers.
"It's beautiful," she lied. "Al, stick it in me. Why do you like tormenting me this way?"
"I like to watch them squirm for it," he said thickly, lowering his hips. "Rich, poor, bright, or dumb, they all squirm for Al when they want it bad enough. You ain't any exception, no matter how intellectual you think you are. When it comes to liking a good, strong, ball-shattering fuck, you're just like all the rest of them."
He spread her thighs roughly with the heel of his hand and aimed his weapon. Carol felt her pussy lift up for it, even under the degrading lash of his tongue.
This was the moment she hated herself-the brief instant when it was still not too late to avert his thrust. It was the second when she could deny her body's craving and go back home to the empty house to await Frank's return at the end of the week and approach him with a feeling of faithfulness, as if all the other times when she'd given in to her weakness had never occurred.
But, as with the other times, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from taking him into her and thrilling at the feel of his coarse, vulgar thrust, his hip-twisting, screwing motions that forced the purple head into every pocket and crevice of her convoluted cunt and abraded the nerve endings there to magnificent splendor. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop it because she knew her own needs and, in a fatalistic sort of way, had come to accept them.
But acceptance was not liking, and so she hated herself when the tip of his penis nosed between the slippery, spread folds of her tumid petals and began the long slide up her tunnel toward the very back of her being. She felt even worse, knowing she had guided his stem to her shaking hole and was now digging her fingernails into the flesh of his buttocks to pull him deeper, inviting his degradation of her, pleading for his cock to make her body spasm and her mind spin for that one too-brief moment of oblivion when all judgments ceased.
Carol felt Al's weight crush her to the bed, the wires on his chest scratching her breasts and belly and making her flesh burn as if singed with plumes of fire. She tossed her head and lifted up to feel his pubes intermingle with hers and grind over her mound like a pad of steel wool.
She hated it. She despised every moment of it. She shivered and croaked and gave voice to her intense displeasure, even as the words came out all wrong.
"God, fuck me, you dirty beast!"
Al grunted in her ear and licked at the side of her face with a tongue like a dog's, his hips writhing between her thighs as he pushed his pumping prick ever deeper into her hole. He had a way of spreading her thighs with his hips and making her pelvis rock up as he pushed aggressively against her, until her twat was flush with the angle of the base of his genitals and her lips were mashed wide and flat. She could feel his furry balls drawn up to where it felt as if he were trying to push them into her hole as well.
It was a position and a way of fucking that seemed thrillingly lewd to her. She felt it clear under her crotch to her anus and knew that the tight orifice was puckered out, pulsing obscenely, like an automated fish's mouth, with each stroke of his penis. She knew she didn't have to move-that he would do all the screwing necessary for them both. But she couldn't stop herself from rolling with him, from moaning at his driving plunges into her satiny hole. She felt his hands slide under her buttocks to squeeze them and spread them, and she knew the touch that was coming next.
A strangled sound erupted from her throat when the broad, stubby pad of his fingertip pressed inward against the fish's mouth and made her whole bottom burn with the flames of lust. She'd meant the sound to be one of protest, but she knew it couldn't be that when the circle of fur came under her own finger, and she was pressing back, wedging the heel of her hand into the deep cleft between his cheeks at the same time.
She heard the coughing grunt Al always made before the final roar, and the protest inside her melted to whimpering acceptance and joy. Her nerves sparked and flashed, driving her muscles to frenzied action. She knew her pussy walls were clenching around his shaft because he'd said before that's what they did. Milked his cock. Drew the sperm out of his balls until he flooded her cunt with thick wads of white syrup.
The description ran through her mind in every sordid detail, disgusting and thrilling her at the same time, making her know that she was doomed to come to him again and again, until the circle of depravity and shame narrowed to a pointing, accusing arrow of definition from which there would be no escape.
The grunting cough came again, a predatory sound-the sound of a jungle cat seeking the prey of her illusions of refinement and culture, of education and breeding, so thin as to be invisible at this moment of realization.
"Do it," she gasped sharply at him, giving vent to the urge to bare her fangs back. "Come in me-squirt your . . . oh, God . . . oh, my God, Al, you primitive, vile bastard."
The words tumbled out. She didn't know whether they'd been properly articulated or had blended into the long, ragged moan of completion that had terminated them. Carol didn't care. The orgasm was upon her, and his cock was filling her emptiness completely, replacing loneliness, vagueness of purpose, her childlessness.
Her world rocked and shuddered and exploded, and she clutched his back desperately, digging her fingernails into his flesh in total abandon. She cried and thrashed under him, feeling his cock buck heavily inside her as it spit still one more load of unfaithfulness into her body. She felt her whole vulva suck greedily at the pulsing base of his stem, lifting up to flatten against his flesh and halt there, shaking in a way it never did for Frank any more.
All too soon, it was over. She fell back, panting harshly as trickles of sensation seethed through her still and made her vagina contract spasmodically. She opened her eyes as if stunned once again by the violence of the orgasm he caused in her, and she saw the angry, red line against his neck where she'd bitten him. It was an accusing wound. It told her that he had drawn her down to his animal level one more time to make the climb back up still another degree more difficult than it had been the last time.
"Jesus," he grunted thickly, rubbing the side of his neck. "You went wild that time, baby, you really went wild. God, I'm going to get you to turn everything loose yet, one of these times. I like that! That's the only way there is to fuck."
"Al, don't . . . "
He chuckled wetly and raised up a little, still breathing hard. "Why not, baby? Don't you like to hear how good you fuck when you want to? You gotta drop all that other crap like you did tonight and let everything go. You get through with me, and that professor's gonna think he's got himself a new woman, and he'll be right."
Carol twisted her head to the side and pushed at Al's chest, wanting him off. Now that it was over, the dirtiness and cheapness were back. The more he talked, the worse it was. He'd done his duty. He'd done all she'd wanted from him. Now she wished he'd shut up and go away and leave her alone.
He rolled off and sighed and lit a cigarette, blowing a bluish cloud toward the ceiling. His prick faded from its upright position to rest along his thigh as if it had fainted. But she knew from experience it would revive at least once more before he was through with her for this week. And she knew she would assist it before she was able to go home and wait the rest of the time for Frank's arrival. She felt his head turn toward her.
"How'd you ever get stuck with a dud like the professor?" Al asked bluntly.
"He's not a dud."
Al snorted. "Shit. You wouldn't be here if he wasn't."
Carol didn't look at him. "I don't want to talk about him," she said.
"Maybe he's fucking the fish while he's out there on that island," Al chortled. "How's that grab you, huh?"
"I think it's ridiculous."
"Hey, I got it. There any dames out there? Or are all the researchers men? Maybe the reason he's not so hot in the sack with a swell looker like you is he's a little fruity. Those intellectual types get that way more than the dumb bastards like me, did you know that?"
She made a move to get up, but Al's big hand flattened around her breast and pushed her back down onto her back again. He raised up on one elbow and looked at her, his face close and thick and hairy.
"Don't get mad," he said, making it a command. "I was only pulling your leg a little. You can't leave yet anyway, because we ain't through."
"Yes we are," she said.
Al rocked back and howled at the ceiling with coarse gargles of laughter intermixed. "You gonna start that again? Jesus, you get a pussyful, and you're ready to go home and make resolutions again. Don't you know those damn things never work? You'll be back next week whether you make them or not, because old Frankie doesn't have it to dick you as good as me, and you need good, strong dicking--regular. Now, you lie there and smile, on account of I got a surprise for you."
"I'm breathless with suspense."
"I read me a book."
She looked at him. "I don't believe it."
"Yeah, I did," he insisted. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it? You wanted me to read something so's we could discuss it, right? That's to feed the emotional and intellectual needs as well as the sexual," he said, quoting one of her earlier, sincere moments with him in a way that parodied her. "So, just for you, baby, I read me a book. 'The Bullet Eaters'. One of them spy things, like old James Bond-kind of good. Well, so what's to discuss about it? Come on, I'm ready."
Carol looked back at the ceiling, preferring the dumbness of plaster. "Oh, God," she said quietly.
Al looked at her steadily, and she couldn't tell if he were mocking her or being serious. For some reason, his effort angered her more than if he'd done nothing.
"That wasn't the kind of book I meant, Al," she said finally.
"Oh. Not good enough for you, huh? Not classy enough. Christ, you want me to read Shakespeare or somebody for you. You want me to listen to that longhair opera crap for you. Listen, baby, there's a limit to what old Al does for any broad, see? I think you'd best just stick to being happy with the size of my dick, and we'll both let it go at that."
"All right," she said.
"You can have Frankie read that other crap with you and be intellectual all to hell, but when you want a good fuck, you come up here and see Al, and he'll give it to you."
"All right," she said. "Except that I'm not coming up here any more. This is the last time, Al."
"Shit," he grunted. "It's been the last time for the last twenty. Besides, you can't fink out on me now. I got something exciting to show you next time-a way you'll really dig. We only been messing around so far, doing it regular. Now it's time for a little experimenting."
Despite herself, Carol turned her head to look at him and see his thick lips spread in a wet, sensual grin. She could see the lust gleaming in his black eyes, and she shivered uncontrollably. It was an unconscious movement, very slight, but he saw it and cackled.
"God, you're the hottest piece of ass I've seen in a long time," he laughed. "Just talking turns you on. Baby, wait until we do it."
"What. . . what is it?" she stammered.
"Huh-uh," he grunted, grinning again. "You gotta come back to find out. Lemme tell ya, baby, it'll drive you right up the fucking wall! Broads love it when I do it to 'em-every one. And that's all I'm gonna say on the subject right now. You just be ready and watering out your cunt hole when you show up next week. That's the way it's best-when you're so fucking hot you can't walk a straight line. So you think about all the things you've ever dreamed of all week, and then you'll be ready for what I got in mind." He glanced down at his lengthening rod, and they both watched it grow to full girth. "Christ, look what just thinking about it does. Come on, baby, we can't let this one go to waste, can we?"
He reached out for Carol and cupped the fullness of her firm breast in his hand. He bent down and sucked on it again, rolling her nipple around with his tongue. Carol didn't want him to, but, in a moment, she knew it would be as useless to try to resist as it had been the first time. When his hand smoothed down the flat planes of her belly and his fingers curled around under the damp area of her crotch, she widened her thighs for him, letting him run his finger up her pussy and smear their mixed fluids around over her lips and crotch.
She sighed jaggedly and closed her eyes, feeling no resistance in her so soon after defeat. His probing finger warmed her and made her pulse quicken again.
It was going to be easier this time. The end was in sight, and the ragged edges were off. He would climb on top of her and fuck her with long, slow strokes until her climax rose steadily and overpowered her, and then she would go home, satisfied once again, confident once more that she would have the will not to return, no matter what kind of enticement he dangled before her. She sighed again, wondering how many other times she'd thought the same thing before.
Al's lips left her breast. They traveled in warm, wet kisses down her-chest and belly. She felt his hot breath bathe the side of her hip. His tongue licked at her groin, flat and wet and warm, and she gasped suddenly.
"Al, what.. . "
Al lifted his face and grinned at her through the deep valley between her upright breasts.
"You mean he ain't even sucked your pussy for you?"
Carol felt shocked. By some mad code of ethics she'd adopted for the situation, fucking was all right, but sucking was too personal. It was an inviolate part of her marriage with Frank that Al was not to intrude upon. There had to be something sacred left for Frank.
"Al, don't.. . I don't want that," she cried, reaching down to try to stop him.
"Bullshit, baby," he grated. "Every broad likes her pussy sucked."
"But it's all messy down there," she reasoned with him, hoping to divert him that way. "It stinks, and it's full of your semen."
"Cum!" he snorted. "Fancy bitch, what do I care what it's full of. I ain't afraid of it. That's what's wrong with you-you're afraid of everything connected with sex except the big blast at the end. What you gotta learn is to love the rest of it like you do that, and then you'll be a real, by-God woman, see? Now lie back and like it, or I'll bite these juicy lips off and eat 'em and really give the professor something to wonder about."
He opened her thighs roughly and dove at her middle like a hungry wolf, shaggy and dark and brutal. His broad, flat tongue lapped over the tingling surfaces of her tissues and made her whimper with the undeniably thrilling burst of sensation that shot through her.
He sucked the way he fucked-whole-heartedly, primitively, making each rippling bud of his tongue count toward her pleasure. Carol felt him spread her labia with his fingertips and then spear the rolled-up tube of his tongue into her hole, making it piston back and forth softly inside her.
The vileness of what he was doing sang through her, and she imagined all that he was tasting and taking into his mouth. His big hands kneaded her buttocks, lifting her hips off the bed as if he were drinking from a well. She felt her thighs fall limply to the side, and she squeezed her breasts in her hands and moaned as her passion soared quickly.
He pulled his tongue out and licked at the base of her slit, making the organ rasp along the bottom of her crotch until the sensitive area of her perineum throbbed delightfully.
He lifted and tipped her more, and the flatness passed over the puckered eye of her rectum.
"Al, no!" she cried. "Oh, God-don't do that!"
She shivered uncontrollably and then nearly fainted with rapture as Al's tongue drilled into her tight rear and pumped back and forth. New, excruciating kinds of thrills whistled through her. She rocked and jerked and felt his big thumb fill her pussy and press against the big muscle inside. Another finger rolled back and forth over the ball of her throbbing clit, and the orgasm crashed out of nowhere to claim her, carrying her away in violent spasms of exquisite joy.
Suddenly, she was frightened. She wanted Frank. All this was too new, too strange, too alarming. She wanted to feel her husband's familiar touches, no matter how uninspired they were. At least she felt safe with him, knowing there were limits and bounds and that everything was within easy grasp of reason. She would never get lost with Frank the way she felt caught up in the center of a swirling vortex right now. She tossed her head and cried out.
"Frank! Frank!"
Al laughed thickly from between her thighs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Juice glistened over his cheeks and chin, and he swallowed rapidly a few times.
"That one hit bottom, eh, baby?" he chortled. "That's all right, call for him, I don't care. I ain't insulted, just hot as hell. Come on, Carol, now it's your turn."
She looked at him through the spinning daze of her mind and saw him straddle her body, moving up along it far past the point where he should have stopped, gripping his thick, stiff cock in his fist as if it were a javelin he intended to plunge into her neck. She felt his buttocks settle above her breasts. His balls bumped her chin like the pelts of small animals. His protruding prick stabbed at her lips and left wetness smeared across them from the oily fluid seeping from the purple-shrouded eye.
"No-God, no!" she cried. "You can't make me
A UNT CAR OL 'S CRA VIM do that!"
Al lifted her head with his free hand and fed his prick toward her mouth with the other.
"I ain't making you do it, baby," he said, his voice thick with lust. "You want to do it. You want to pay me back for the good come I gave you. You want to show me and yourself that you ain't afraid of sex any more. You want to feel the power of my prick go all through you until you can taste it. Come on, baby, open up and suck on it and let it all happen."
Carol tried to twist her head aside, but Al held it firmly from behind. She felt the velvety head smear slickly over her lips and work inside until it bumped against her clenched teeth.
The alarm came again and mingled with the baseness of what he wanted her to do. The two emotions whirled and fought and then came out as still a third. She didn't know what it was. She'd never experienced it before. It was a wild emotion that made her jaws open and her teeth part and her lips purse outward to suck the horrible length of his prick into her mouth until it bumped the back of her throat and gagged her. A burst of flavor filled her senses and made her feel half mad.
In a moment, she felt his buttocks under her fingers and against her chest and breasts. She felt the meat of his cock sliding back and forth across her lips and filling the hollow in the center of her tongue. She heard his grunting cough come very quickly-too quickly for her to prepare herself for what surely would follow it.
He held her head tightly in his hand and leaned forward slightly, inserting his prick as far as it would go. Carol's tongue slid back and forth along the bottom of his shaft and drew his discharge from him in spurting jets.
Carol whimpered and choked, trying to free herself from his grasp and from the pumping terror of his prick, but she couldn't move. The syrupy fluid spattered against the back of her throat and slid down as she swallowed reflexively, feeling now that she was surely drinking the dregs from her own private barrel of depravity.
Al sighed heavily and sagged downward until curling tendrils of wiry hair thrust into her nostrils and the meat of his abdomen threatened to suffocate her. She felt his penis begin wrinkling and wilting in her mouth, and more fluid seeped from the end of it. As if it were the final insult to her person, she made a muffled cry and tried to escape his imprisonment of her. She rolled away from him finally, gagging and spitting, and she wanted to vomit but couldn't.
"Don't put on such an act, baby," he grated, grinning up at her with his fat-lipped sneer. "Mine ain't the first cock you've sucked; I can tell. That tongue of yours has got a natural motion to it. Christ, I couldn't have stopped myself from coming if I'd wanted to, the way you drew it up." He chortled thickly. "You're learning now-oh, you're learning fast. A few more sessions like this and the one I got planned for next week, and you'll be a real woman all the way."
Carol looked at Al with barely disguised horror. Loathing and disgust filled her. She hated his hairy, flabby-fleshed, thick body and his evil mind. But, most of all, she hated herself for needing him to use her the way he did. She had no illusions about romance or love for him. She had at first. But now, after this twentieth time-or was it the hundredth?-the truth was more real than it had ever been, and she didn't like the look of it. Or the smell. Or the taste.
She turned away from Al with a slinking motion and reached for her clothes, sliding her panties up around the dripping portal of lust that had offended her once again. The crotch squeezed the still tumid flaps of her labia closed as if it were bandaging a wound and trying to make the edges knit together permanently so that her body would never again be susceptible to his infectious prick.
"Where ya going?" he asked.
"Home."
"Petered out already?" He laughed thickly at his own joke. "What's the goddamn rush? You got nobody waiting there for you, stick around."
Carol slipped into her bra and pulled her dress over her head, zipping it quickly. She felt his eyes follow her as she went to the mirror and tugged a comb through her short, yellow hair, making it silky and shiny again. When she'd put on fresh lipstick and had inspected her appearance for signs of the decay she felt inside, she turned to him. He was lying on the bed smoking, his knees drawn up, his cock folded limply down over his distended sac, nestling in the bed of coarse hair.
"Goodbye, Al," she said unemotionally, feeling too drained to put any inflection in her voice.
"Yeah," he said. "Until next week. Think about the surprise I got for you. You'll climb the wall, it feels so good."
Carol opened her mouth to say once again that she wouldn't be back any more, but the look on his face stopped her. He would only ridicule her.
And the promise would lack conviction.
She went to the door and turned out the light, hearing him curse her caution. After seeing that no one was outside, Carol slipped into the night and ran down the concrete catwalk on tiptoes, nearly losing a shoe halfway down the stairs.
The same feeling of flight came over her when she got into the car and started it, realizing she was running the engine too loudly and driving away too fast. Halfway through the nearly deserted streets of the small university town, she began to feel safe and slowed her speed.
The warm, salt-laden breeze came gently in from the ocean and reminded her of Frank. He was out there right now, southeast, about two hundred miles into the Caribbean on one of the many dry, empty, flat, sterile uplifts of limestone and coral that was part of the Bahamian chain of cays. She wondered if he were sleeping at this moment, the way she should be. Or if he were writing up another of his endless damned reports by gas light.
Resentment twisted inside her and made her swing away from the ocean road toward the house she shared with him-only on weekends, now. In a moment, her headlights swept across the hedge of hibiscus, outlined the banded trunks of palms, and illuminated the striking house a friend of Frank's in architecture school had designed for them.
Inside, the emptiness pressed down on her. Shrugging it off, Carol set her purse on a low table and went into the bathroom to scrub harshly at her teeth and tongue to rid herself of Al's taste. When she came back out, she selected a Brahms symphony on the stereo, turning it up loud. Instead of filling her with strength and purpose, the orchestra jumped and bounced in strong rhythms until she felt battered. Mozart pranced too cutely, and Prokofiev made her feel bristling, like a doll stuck full of voodoo pins. Fearing the lugubrious brooding of Mahler, she shut the machine off and felt more alone than ever, frustrated, apprehensive over the growing feeling that she was losing all control of herself.
The stack of records held nothing that she felt would yank her from her mood the way one of them usually did. The rows of books hadn't enough attraction to keep her reading the titles.
With a whimper, Carol turned and ran into the kitchen, where the closest sink was, and let her stomach violently eject the debasing semen Al had pumped into it. When she was finished, her eyes watered and her face was ashen. Her fingers trembled along the counter until she felt capable of standing unaided.
She found herself looking into the bedroom that would have been for their child. Now, it was Frank's study cluttered with neat piles of folders and charts and scientific journals, all dealing with marine biology. Looking at the empty chair behind the desk, Carol wished fervently that he were sitting in it right now, that he would get up and come to her with his boyish smile and cuddle her into his arms and love her the way he had before he'd become so involved in his project that he scarcely recognized her existence any more.
She leaned against the door jamb, remembering how the involvement had grown, beginning first with an idea that Mac had found interesting and had permitted Frank to work on. With the increasing awareness of pollution and its far-reaching hand into the ocean currents, Mac had arranged for Frank to get a state grant. Now it was federal, and Frank was heading up a small team of researchers, involved more in paper work than in investigation on the small island he grimly referred to as Bone Dry Cay. The research had become a pet turned monster, and he wasn't happy with it any more. But knowing that didn't help Carol. It didn't help their marriage. Nothing helped any more.
Not even Al.
She sagged away from the door feeling faint and made straight for the bedroom, stripping off her clothes as she went. She collapsed onto the bed, using only enough energy to burrow between the sheets. She saw the lights still burning in the other room and groaned, too drained to get up and turn them off.
She stared at the ceiling and felt her pussy begin to itch where the mixture of saliva and mucus and semen slowly dried in the damp air. Curiously, the sensation made her want sex again, even though she hadn't the energy for it. She laughed, a small, sharp sound, and stared at the ceiling, knowing that if a prick came walking stiffly through the door right now, she'd find the energy. No matter who was attached to the other end of it. Her life had come to that. It had come to the point where the only moment of uplift and identity was the paradoxical one of orgasm, when identity shuddered away into non-existence.
Her books and symphonies didn't work any more. She'd learned that tonight. Frank was no good to her now, or maybe it was the other way around. The bridge club and the social organizations of the town people hadn't worked. Classes had, for a while-but she'd grown irritated with the juvenility of her classmates. The university people treated her as a widow, now that Frank was gone all the time.
She had tried. She'd tried everything. But the best she'd been able to come up with was Al. Al and his hairy cock and his animal way of making her shriek her torment under the guise of joy, the only joy left to her any more.
Angrily, Carol raised her arm and smacked the flat of her hand against her uplifted pussy. Pain stung through her and made her whimper. She did it again, spanking her crotch until it burned, hating it for what it had caused her to do and to become.
She rolled and sobbed and spanked herself until her arm ached and her tissues flared with a violent red. Then her hand rested over it, and her fingers touched the tender surfaces, exploring them for damage. Her inner thighs were wet from spattered juices, and her whole crotch felt numb. All but the one area, the area her fingertip circled over again and again, the area that changed the pain of self-flagellation into the tingling joy of fulfillment.
She squirmed on the bed and scissored her thighs around her hand, feeling herself giving in to the sensation building inside her. Her fingertip rolled over her clit and made it swell eagerly. She felt her hips lift upward toward her hand.
It came in a rush-a stinging, tingling, disgusting rush. She poised on the brink of orgasm, debating, then gave her clit a last flick and tumbled over, mewling and squirming as her pussy shook in the gentle cup of her hand and her abdomen squeezed down tightly, as if she were giving birth to something at last.
When it was over, Carol felt strangely better, as if she'd accomplished something. She felt a surge of self-reliance go through her, and she half giggled, half sobbed. If she could do it to herself like this every time, then she wouldn't have to go back to Al any more. She wouldn't have to suffer his degrading control over her body and needs.
A slow smile crept over her soft mouth, and she experimented with the way it had felt. It had been a good orgasm-satisfying, hard. The shame of masturbation was pale when she compared it with the other shame she felt with Al. It was the lesser of two evils. She could make it work until she got Frank back-if she ever got him back. It was that or Al-or some other Al.
More content than she'd felt in a long time, Carol curled up on her side of the bed and tucked the sheet around her shoulder, taking care not to make her thighs put pressure on her inflamed pussy. It still hurt from the spanking she'd given it. She resolved to do away with that portion of her masturbation and closed her eyes to sleep.
But, try as she might, she couldn't keep the dreams of Al's stiff, hairy, disgusting cock from her mind as she visualized what he would do to her with it next week when he showed her his surprise way of fucking.
2
Carol awoke, knowing that she'd tossed and turned all night as if grappling with a phantom foe. She was tired, yet she felt as if some kind of weight had been lifted from her. She gave fleeting thought to analyzing why and then stopped herself, not wanting to begin the day with the same sapping conflict she'd ended the night.
Out the window, the Florida sun of late August was shining strongly into the yard. The damp heat had begun already, and rain clouds were building into a dark line over the sloughs to the west, threatening to flood the world in another of the daily tropical downpours in only two or three hours.
She looked at the clock and saw that it was after ten. She showered, then cooked herself some breakfast. The empty refrigerator reminded her that it was Friday and that Frank would be coming home for the weekend tonight. Carol hurried herself along thinking of the shopping and cleaning she would have to do.
She avoided thinking about herself and about the attitude she would have toward Frank when he came in by reading the paper while she finished eating breakfast. As she was leaving the house, wanting to beat the rain, the phone rang. She picked it up, half fearing who might be on the other end. Hearing her sister's voice didn't put her at ease.
"Carol? It's Myra. Hi!"
The cheeriness forced itself over the wires from Lake Wales and grated in Carol's ear. She sat down, knowing she wouldn't be going anywhere for a time.
"Hello, Myra," she said, glancing at the clock and the approaching rain again. She heard her voice go tight. "How are things over there?"
"Hot! Boy, I'm going to hate to go home from work tonight. I haven't got air conditioning the way you do, you know. Got to go home and sweat over the stove, cooking for all the kids. Honest to God, I don't know why I let that bastard talk me into having so many."
Carol sighed at hearing the old complaints again. Myra was five years older, but she acted twenty years younger in some ways.
"That's what you get for stealing Jim from me," Carol said with an edge of vindictiveness she couldn't stop.
"Yeah, then you'd be the widow, and I'd be waltzing around in a imagine house wondering whether to have the chair next to the window or the fireplace."
"You don't have to be a widow, you know. Or have you and Jack had a falling out."
"No, he's still hanging around."
Carol gripped the phone tightly. "When are you going to stop being a martyr and marry him, Myra? Or is it that you just like to bitch so much you won't put an end to it?"
There was a long moment of silence on the other end, and Carol could see her sister's face going red and puffing out, strands of sandy hair suddenly falling in disarray over her forehead. She couldn't stop herself from grinning into the phone as she waited for the old battle to begin again-the one that had started nineteen years ago when Myra had made a play for Jim and taken him from her. That was at the root of all their fights. The rest was camouflage. But the battle didn't begin.
"Honey, listen," Myra said sweetly. "I didn't call to talk about Jack. I've already explained why I don't want to marry him. I know he could give me a good living and be a good father and husband and all the rest of it, but I didn't call to talk about him. I wanted to ask you a favor."
"What?" The word was curt and unyielding. She felt herself stiffen. Myra was always wanting one kind of favor or another, each stemming from a need that could be easily handled if she would marry Jack. Besides, Carol figured that one favor too many had been granted nineteen years ago.
"Well, it's Jimmy," Myra said.
"What's he done now?"
"Honey, he hasn't done anything," Myra said with a tone of exasperation.
"Was he turned down? You want Frank to go talk to the admissions director again, is that it?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that. He's been accepted in school there, and he's going to be there next Tuesday for classes, but he doesn't have anywhere to stay."
Carol reeled slightly, knowing for certain what the call was about now. "What do you mean?" she asked guardedly. "Frank got him into the dorm. What are you talking about?"
"Carol, I couldn't help it. Linda came down with something wrong with her kidneys, and she's going to have to go into the hospital Monday for lots of tests and things. It's going to be terribly expensive-you know what hospital costs are today."
"You need money?"
"You know I never ask for money, Carol," she said sharply. "I'm determined to make it my own way, I told you that. It's that the only way I could think of to save enough back was to cancel Jimmy's dorm contract and ask if you and Frank couldn't let him room there in your house-that room you were going to rent out a few years back, remember?"
Carol looked automatically beyond the kitchen toward the room in the back that was now full of boxes and files and pieces of old furniture. They'd built it onto the house and put a private entrance on it, thinking to rent it to students some vague time in the future. But Frank didn't like the thought of a strange face around the house while he worked, and Carol hadn't wanted the responsibility of a boarder after Frank had started leaving every week for his research.
"But it's piled high with junk right now, Myra," she said. "It'd take a week to clean it out and get something in there for him to sleep on. You didn't give much warning, as usual."
"I couldn't help it, Carol," Myra wheedled. "Honey, he's got to have some place to stay. That's a hell of a thing when I can't even count on my own sister for help."
"You could count on Jack if you weren't so damn stubborn!" Carol shot back, thinking bitterly of how she had counted on Myra once and trusted her with the man she'd wanted to marry.
"Carol, I'm not going to marry him for his money; now stop badgering me about it. I'd come up over the weekend and help you clean it out and get it ready for him, but I just can't-not with Linda going into the hospital and all."
"Then send Jimmy."
"Oh, I couldn't Carol. He has so many dates and things planned up until the last minute. He won't be able to see his friends for a long time, you know, now that he's going there to college. He's really looking forward to it, Carol. He's taken a real interest in schoolwork now, because he knows he's got a big responsibility when he gets out, looking out for the rest of us. He knows I can't work forever and he's got to help his brothers and sisters along. He won't be any trouble, Carol, honest. He's gotten big and strong, now, and you'd swear you were looking at Jim back in-back . . . "
Carol felt her heart pound as the old emotions of the past came rushing back into her.
"Now why," she asked firmly, "would I want to remember those days every time I look at your son?"
"Honey, don't be that way. We've been over it and over it. I wish we could bury the hatchet and forget everything. All I meant was that you haven't seen Jimmy in a long time. You haven't come this little way to see your sister and nieces and nephews in years. That's no way for a family to be. We're all that's left now, Carol, you and me. We should get together more often. I thought maybe one way of doing that would be for you to get to know Jimmy now that he's grown into a man. Besides, he could keep you company while Frank's gone. Does he still go out there every week? I've kind of lost track."
"Yes," Carol said.
"Then Jimmy could keep you company while Frank's away. You must get lonely in that nice house all by yourself. Frankly, I don't know how you can stand it, rattling around all alone without any kids. I just can't wait to get back to mine every night, I miss them so much."
Carol suppressed the urge to blat out a rude sound over the phone. Myra wheedled on, but she didn't listen. She felt trapped. The last time she'd seen Jimmy, he'd been an arrogant brat-wearing big shoes and a man's pants and probably sporting a man-sized pair of balls inside them, but still a brat, like his mother. His presence in the house would certainly mean an end to her visits to Al, which, while good in one sense, would be impossible in another.
She realized suddenly that it was her independence she was most worried about. If she could lick her struggle with her need for Al by herself, this was one thing. An enforced solution wouldn't work. She couldn't grow from that, whether it was up away from the morass or down into it completely. Whichever direction she was going to go, she had to take it by herself, by using her own will, and Jimmy's presence in the house would hinder that.
There was the expense of feeding him and the bother of cleaning up after him. Neither item was serious, but still a factor. There would be the knowledge that someone else was in the house, curtailing her moods of happiness or brooding or quiet reflection, whichever was operative at the moment. It would mean she would have to be more circumspect in what she did, knowing he could walk in on her at any time. She wouldn't be able to go about nude or in panties to sun herself by the pool during the day, unless she were certain he was in class.
One objection after another flitted through her mind as if hiding the real one that lay underneath them all-the naked dream of being reminded of Jim again. She turned quickly from that truth and heard Myra still rationalizing and pleading.
"Carol, you can't turn me down. You've got to let him stay there. His whole future-and ours, the rest of us-depends on him going to school so he can get a good job when he gets out."
"Why didn't you say something earlier, Myra? Why in hell do you leave everything to the last minute?"
"Carol, I can't believe this," she said in a hurt voice. "All I'm asking is for you to let your nephew sleep in one of the empty rooms in that big imagine house so he can go to college. You'd think I was asking you for your hus-for your leg or something."
"It's the principle, Myra," Carol said coolly. "You could have asked if it would be all right before you cancelled the contract. But then that isn't your way, is it, darling sister? You always manage to put yourself into a bind so that somebody will have pity on you and give you what you want-just the way I gave you Jim, remember?"
"Honey, don't talk about that. It's so long ago. Please, let's forget it and be friends after all these years. You don't know you did yourself a favor when you let him take me to Gainesville for graduation and all that other happened. Think what a fix you'd be in right now if I hadn't taken him off your hands-him dead, and you stuck with all his kids."
"The ones you can't wait to get back to?"
"What?"
Carol sighed heavily. "I'll have to talk to Frank about it, Myra. You know I couldn't say anything until I've talked to him."
"Don't you want to help your sister out?"
"It isn't that."
"It sounds like it," she said querulously.
"Myra-I said I'd talk to Frank," Carol said, thinking that her sister would argue with her if she agreed on the spot. "I'll call you back tomorrow or Sunday."
"Oh, thanks, Carol! I knew I could count on you! Well, listen, I've got to get off. Oh, my yes, it's been nearly half an hour, and I'm on the company phone. You shouldn't have kept me talking so long. I'll tell Jimmy it'll be all right so the poor boy won't worry, 'bye."
The disconnection clicked in her ear before Carol could get another word in. She stared at the dead phone and slammed it angrily into the cradle, astounded more than anything by the fact that the call hadn't come collect.
As edgy as she'd been in a long time, she stood up and paced around the kitchen, hearing the whining voice play back through her mind. She resisted the urge to call Myra back and yell repeatedly in her ear to marry Jack. Marry him because he loved her. Marry him because he could take care of her and her brood. Marry him because he was hanging around eternally just for the word, although the reason why escaped Carol.
Feeling the need to escape the confining walls of the house, she hurried out to the drive and slammed into the car, digging up some of the gravel as she backed away. A dark dread grew inside her, as ominous as the blackening sky to the west. What she didn't need was to have a man who looked like her lover from her passionate youth living in the room next to hers.
Ravel pulsated from the stereo in bursts of exotic color when Frank drove in twenty minutes earlier than usual. She heard the crunch of gravel in the drive over the music because she'd been listening for Frank instead of to Ravel. She shut the machine off and went to the door, pausing on her way through the kitchen to slide the steak into the broiler. She straightened up and checked the time and then squared her shoulders to face him.
She'd done a great deal of thinking during the day, unable to escape from it any longer, and had seen only one solution to the complex problem involving Al and Jimmy and loneliness. She went to the door and watched her husband trudge through the gravel with his suitcase and briefcase swinging in slow arcs from his arms. One filled with dirty clothes for her to wash, the other with reams of papers and forms for him to fill with markings and submit just before he left again on Monday-if he hurried.
He looked weary and a little drawn. His mouth lacked the wide, boyish grin that was usually spread across his face. His light hair was nearly completely bleached of color, and his face was deeply tanned, giving him a strange look of having his colors inverted. Carol felt sorry for him suddenly because she knew his project had grown beyond the stage of being enjoyable. Because he had a wife who fucked a beast while he was gone.
"Hi, honey," Frank said, trying to muster enthusiasm.
Carol threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard, surprising him with the unexpected attention. She usually gave him a quick kiss and went back into the kitchen to pull the dinner out of the oven.
"Hey, what's all this?" he asked.
She looked at Frank and kissed him heartily until he responded and kissed her back. Carol let go of him until he put the cases down in the hall, then tipped her head back prettily.
"You're early tonight," she said, "so I thought I'd give you a little extra attention while the steak is broiling."
He grinned finally, making his face light up. "Maybe I ought to try to get home early more often."
"Do you want to shower first?"
He put his arm around her waist and walked her into the living room. "No, I've already done that. We left a little early today because a wind was kicking up." He settled into an easy chair and sighed heavily, running long, artistic fingers through his thin-bodied hair. His legs stuck out in front of him in a position of collapse, like a puppet with limp strings.
Carol went to the refrigerator and came back with two frosty rum drinks in her hands. She handed him his and sat in the chair next to him with a pretty smile.
"My God," he said with tired pleasure. "What's going on? Did you bash the fender or something? Mmmmm, that tastes good right now."
"Don't question it, darling, just drink it. I decided I've been a meany lately, that's all."
He looked at her and smiled. "No, you haven't," he said pleasantly. "Not at all, sweetie. I think you've held up admirably well for the way I've neglected you for so long."
"I wouldn't complain if that were changed a little," she said.
He sighed heavily. "I know. I wouldn't either. I was hoping I could take you out this weekend-give us both a break. But Mac . . . "
"But Mac said some big-wig in Washington wants to know the effect of the whosis on the whatsis, I know-and to have it ready Monday if not sooner."
He looked at her seriously and then smiled. "Yeah," he said.
"I think you work too damned hard, Frank. I think you should tell Mac to write it up himself and give you a week off-two weeks."
He reached over and held her hand. "I know you think that. You're right, of course. But I can't. Besides, it's nearly over-another two months, if we're lucky. And Mac's interest is going to wane now that the semester is starting next week. Administrative duties and such for the department."
"I wish you were still teaching."
"This started out good. Besides, it's worth more."
"More what?" she asked rather sharply. "What's it worth to us, Frank? To you and me?"
He looked at her, his eyes like blue lights through the deep tan of his face. "Honey, we can stick it out for another two months, can't we?"
She looked away. "I've got to turn the steak." She got up and nearly ran into the kitchen. She lingered there, wondering what to say to him next. She should have known that he wouldn't complain or ask for time off. He was a glutton for work, and he would take any kind of responsibility Mac offered him, even if it was to empty the camp potties. She went back in thoughtfully.
"Darling," she began.
He brought his head around and opened his eyes, and she saw that he'd nodded off. "Hm? What?"
"You can't go to sleep now; the steak's nearly ready."
"Oh-good, I'm starved. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that. The drive up from Miami's getting worse. I don't know where everybody's coming from at this time of year-middle of the hurricane season, hot. God, it's hot on that island when you're in the sun all day. That wind came up this morning, I thought maybe we'd get to knock off for a week or so. Found myself hoping somebody would spot a storm center out there that would blow up into a good one. Never done that before."
She listened to him ramble, sensing the underlying weariness in him. "Frank, you've got to ask Mac for time off," she said emphatically.
He shook his head and finished the rum. "Can't do it, honey. There's too much work-just too much. Hey," he smiled, "that's enough of this. Tell me about yourself. What's been happening to you all week?"
She tipped her glass and watched the ice slip around inside. She nearly told him about Myra's call, then didn't. She had one more alternative to suggest first. And she didn't want to trouble him with her sister's childishness until he'd slept.
"I think everything's ready by now. Want another drink? We can have it at the table."
He laughed with a pleasant, relaxed sound, as if fatigue had smoothed the edges and the rum had softened them.
"Trying to set me on my can?"
"It would be a good idea, and you know it." She took his hand and pulled. "Come on, up."
Somehow, he gathered his legs under him and made them work again. He followed Carol into the dining room like a led child and sat while she fixed up everything in the kitchen and brought it in. Carol sat beside him and watched him attack the food, wishing he would reserve some of that energy that was left for her.
Halfway through the meal, she tried again. "Darling, what if I wanted to come with you?"
He stopped chewing and looked at her, resuming slowly. "You mean to the cay?" he asked with an incredulous tone.
"Yes. Is that so strange?"
"Yeah, pretty strange. Why would you want to do that? There's not a damn thing there for you." A little life had come back into him with the food.
"There's you," she said. "Maybe I could help you get some of your notes in order or written up so that you wouldn't have to spend all the weekend doing it. We could have some time to ourselves for a change. Does all that motive make my request sound strange now?"
"No, honey, of course not. It's just that you don't realize what that place is like. First of all, there aren't any women there. All the team is male. That would cause something of a problem from the standpoint of privacy for you."
"Something could be worked out, Frank. You know that."
"Second, that hunk of land's just big enough to hold the chopper and our tents. Well, not really, but it's only twenty acres at the most, and there's not a damn thing on it but limestone, sand and a little grass and crabs. Birds, of course. Oh, a few bushes, but not one palm tree-no shade at all, and it's blazing hot. Besides, you wouldn't get to see me there, either."
"Oh, I would too, and you know it. At least I'd be with you."
"Third," he continued, "we've been lucky with the weather so far. All the hurricanes have spun south or fizzled out before they got to any size, but we're bound to get one yet this fall."
"You're not frightening me with that, Frank. You know you have plenty of warning."
"Last objection," he said, being factual rather than argumentative, as was his habit, "is that we'd have to make two chopper trips to carry an extra passenger. The thing just won't hold any more people or gear."
"You ought to go in a seaplane-one like the Bimini charter uses."
Frank sipped on his coffee and looked thoughtfully over the rim of the cup. "I've argued that same thing with Mac for some time, now," he said. "It would be faster, cheaper, and safer. And we could carry more goods. We're going to need another cylinder for the divers. We've just reached that stage in the plans where they have to be under longer. We could use another raft, too."
"Well, then it should be settled. Get him to trade the helicopter for a seaplane, and I'll come with you."
He looked at her in a preoccupied way, and she realized that he hadn't been contrary or evasive with his objections a moment ago. Merely realistic. He shook his head after a moment of visualizing her on the island and brought his eyes back into focus.
"But it's no good out there for you, Carol. You'd be bored silly."
"Will you talk to Mac?" she asked firmly. "Have him tell Washington you need secretarial help and can get an industrious girl for free."
He laughed suddenly and leaned forward to kiss her with a light touch. "You never answered me, Sweetie," he said. "What happened to you this week to make you take this sudden interest in my work? You've never cared a damn for it before." . She looked away and stood up to get the dessert. "I got lonely," she said.
She felt her hands shaking as she stood over the counter and cut slabs from the pie. The problem with Al would be solved. She could call Myra as planned and give her an inflated story of the trouble Frank had gone through to get government permission for her to accompany him, of how much she'd been looking forward to it. Maybe it would even force Myra into marrying Jack as she should have done years ago. Then Jimmy would be under the guidance of someone who wanted to look after him.
She sucked in a deep breath and looked at the wedge in the pie, the cherry filling oozing out like blood from a gaping cunt between crusty thighs. The boredom and the heat and the drastic change in living style on the island sounded horrible to her. But she would do it. She would force herself to do it.
When she went back in, she found Frank watching her carefully. She tried to ignore him, knowing the question in his mind.
"What's going on, Carol?" he asked finally.
She glanced up and smiled uncertainly. "What do you mean?"
"What happened here?"
"Well, really . . . Frank, has anything had to happen? Isn't it normal for me to want to spend some time with my husband? This project has kept us apart for over six months. Isn't that reason enough for me to want to come with you? I told you, darling, I got lonely this week. I just realized how much I've missed you."
"I'm flattered," he said. "But I'd thought you'd begun to resent everything-my work, the time I have to put in on it, even me."
"Darling," she laughed tightly. "Whatever gave you that idea? Will you talk to Mac? Please?"
He studied her a moment longer, and she felt as if he were looking through her and seeing it all-every sordid wiggle and gasp she'd made under the hairy spear of Al's prick.
"I'll talk to him," he said. "But I can't promise anything."
He settled back in the chair, and she saw that his eyelids were beginning to droop again after the heavy meal. He seemed extra tired tonight, and she felt a surge of love and compassion for him.
"You poor dear, you look exhausted. Come on, I'm going to put you to bed right now."
He grinned boyishly at her, pleased with the speeding up of their weekly routine. "I won't argue with that."
"Oh-h-h," she teased. "You mean you've missed my little pussy this week, huh."
"I missed you."
"Don't try to flatter me, darling. You're getting hard already, I can see it."
"I kept dreaming about you."
"Hm," she chortled. "That's sweet, even if it isn't true."
"It's true, or I wouldn't have said it."
"Now I'm curious. What was I doing in your dreams?"
He cupped her slim waist with his long-fingered hand and nuzzled the side of her neck as they walked toward the bedroom.
"You were fucking," he whispered breathily. "You were lifting your pussy up and opening it wide for a prick that you fucked and fucked until your little twat was red."
She missed a step, throwing them off balance and into the wall with laughter. "It was your prick, darling," she smiled with quick recovery. "I was dreaming about you, too. Isn't that funny? Doesn't that prove my point that we need to be with each other?"
He grunted in response and held her, kissing her with as much fervor as his fatigue would allow. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid his pants down, undressing him as if he were a child. The rigid staff thrusting up from his groin, bobbing and weaving as she worked with his pants, brushing along the side of her cheek and nuzzling into the hollow of her neck, was anything but childlike.
She ran her smooth lips over the velvety, pink tip and felt a rush of excitement go through her. His stalk was clean and hairless and healthy looking. His middle was starkly contrasting in color with the deep tan of his belly and thighs, and the demarcation made by his swimming trunks was vivid. She felt back on familiar grounds again, after the frightening experience with Al last night. She wished now that she had saved up her passion during the week for this moment with Frank so that her pussy would be quivering as much as his penis throbbed right now.
She touched him, wrapping her fingers around the solid shaft. She felt the readiness of him. She knew he would be quick tonight. He was always urgent when he got back, after storing up all week and intensifying his need for release with the tensions of his work.
She stood and hurriedly slipped out of her mini, watching him lie on the bed on his back. She stared at his stiff prick and watched it pulse up and down as it lifted from his belly and throbbed back against it. The fine hairs around the root waved and curled as his testicles moved up and down like soft animals. She urged passion into her own body by thinking of how good and familiar making love to him would be.
When she was naked, she came to him and felt his hand on the side of her hip.
"Sit on me?" he asked.
"Any way you want, Frank," she answered, hiding her desire for him to mount her and stab reason and happiness back into her senses.
Carol knelt on the bed and straddled her husband's hips. Her labia opened wide, and he stared into the depths of her meat, his blue eyes taking on a hungry look. His long fingers probed her sandy curls and fondled the tipped mounds of her breasts as she positioned herself.
She took his penis in her hand and pulled it upright. The glans flared and grew pinker. She reached down and spread the lips of her pussy with her fingers, exhibiting everything to him, moving his pulsing tip toward the softness of her body.
"What's the matter with your pussy, honey?" he asked suddenly, making her freeze.
"What do you mean?"
"It's all red." His eyes shifted to hers and made her catch her breath with guilt. "That's just the way I dreamed it."
"That's because I'm so hot for you, sweetie," she said, smiling gently.
"It's never been that red before."
"Oh, darling, don't question everything tonight," she cried. "Don't talk any more-just love me!"
She lifted up and placed his tip against her vaginal entrance, then settled down slowly, feeling the urgent length of him slide into her cunt. She gasped and revolved her hips, sinking down all the way on him until he groaned with pleasure.
His hands lifted to her breasts again, and he rolled the nipples between his fingers. He cupped the ends and mashed the tilted cones against her chest. Carol watched him, smiling at him, pursing her lips toward him, dispelling his suspicions with the expressions on her face and the rolling movements of her hips until his eyes closed and a smile of pleasure came to his lips.
His hands worked through her curls and played with her swollen labia. One finger snuggled into the top of her cleft and found her clitoris. She rocked back and forth on top of him and moaned, closing her eyes to concentrate on the delicious sensations his finger and his throbbing prick caused her. Her buttocks flattened against his thighs, and she felt her anus spread wide, pulsing for another invasion, like the one Al had given her.
Frank's hips began to lift up and down. His abdomen tightened and relaxed. His thighs opened and closed with slight movements under her ass, and she knew he was coming up too fast for her.
"Frank-wait.. . " she pleaded. "Wait for me, honey."
"Oh, baby, baby," he moaned.
The approaching crest slid out of Carol's grasp as she heard the hated words Al used. Her eyes flew open, and she looked down at the man beneath her as if to verify that it was her husband this time. When she saw the strain of pleased agony on his face, she grew frantic. Boldly, she dipped her hand into her cleft and furiously rolled her clit under her fingertip. She balanced precariously atop him and reached between her cheeks, searching for her anus with her other hand, stabbing her finger roughly into the hole. She rocked and rolled desperately on top of him, feeling his hard cock pressure the walls of her pussy all over inside.
She had never played with herself in front of him this way, and the thrill of deviance ran through her along with the physical stimulations she was getting from him and herself. She began to feel her passion climb again, and she strained to reach it. She wanted to come with him. She wanted to be a part of his orgasming splendor for once. It had been so long since they'd come together. It would also show him that she hadn't been doing what he'd seen in his dreams-lifting her pussy up and wide for the hair-bristled cock of an animal like Al.
"Honey-Carol!" he cried, and she knew it was too late for her to catch up with him.
Frank's hips lifted, and his hands clamped around her pelvis, mashing her buttocks against his thighs and her spread twat against the root of his organ. She felt his spasms start and accumulate urgency. His penis bloated inside her and spewed forth the stored load in his balls, squirting semen far back into her channel and making the shaft-filled tunnel unbelievably slippery and sensitive.
All his tensions and passion shot forth through his tube of release as if drawn out in long strings from all parts of his body, one strand interwoven with the next so that the pulsing fury went on and on as if it wouldn't end.
Carol rolled and fucked up and down, making it good for him, trying hard to catch up with him.
Her fingers dug into the soft meat of her pussy and rectum with a desperate quality until she realized she wasn't going to reach her climax. So she faked it for him.
"Frank-oh, Frank!" she cried, swiveling her hips, making her pelvis rock back and forth to milk the last drops from his exploding penis.
She squeezed his shaft with her big pussy muscle, making it vibrate as if it were spasming on its own. She took her fingers from her body before he saw them there and suspected her of doing something else in his absence. She fell forward, and her nipples brushed his chest. She kissed him over and over, her buttocks moving up and down along his spear until she heard and felt his juices running out of her hole and smearing between them. His arms came about her neck and hugged her tightly, and he kissed her back happily.
She put her face beside his and felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. He was convinced. He was happy. The suspicions were gone-if, indeed, he had ever held them. More probably, she realized, it was her own sense of guilt and shame that had given rise to them so that she had projected them to him. He was too good to suspect her, too kind and trusting. And she was so weak. A sob burst from her lips, half muffled by the pillow in which her face was buried.
"Honey-oh, Carol, it's all right. We both needed that, didn't we?" His hand smoothed up and down her back, calming her, and then it fell away.
She lifted up and saw his head turned to the side, his eyes closed. He breathed deeply, sound asleep. She straightened and tilted after a moment and watched his limp penis slide wetly from inside her. She went to the bathroom and washed herself, came back with a warm washcloth and cleaned him, patting him dry with a towel. He moaned contentedly and rolled over, snuggling into the pillow, presenting his stark-white buttocks to her. She pulled the sheet up over him and stood for a moment looking down at her husband. She would go with him. She had to go with him. She would have to force herself to become interested in his work, because it was plain that she couldn't go on the way she'd been doing, trying to live apart from him and through her books and records.
She turned and got a robe out of the closet and went out quietly to clean up the dishes. There was a lightness to her step that nearly overpowered the heaviness as she hoped for Mac's approval and braced herself for tomorrow with mixed emotions.
3
Frank came into the kitchen, scratched the top of his head, and stretched the kinks of his morning's work out of his arms and legs. The noon sun bore down nearly vertically, about to be edged away by the day's solid, blue-black bank of clouds coming in from the west.
"I finally got hold of Mac," he said, peering into the refrigerator for a beer.
Carol turned from the sink. "What did he say, honey? May I go? Is it all right?"
Frank sighed heavily and turned the can upside down to punch holes in the bottom because he despised the cutting, polluting edges of the pop tops. She watched him and knew the answer before he spoke it.
"He can't give me an answer yet. The coordinator's out of the country for a month."
"Oh, God!"
"Yeah. By the time he gets back, it'll nearly be over. Hardly worth the fuss."
"What about the seaplane? Can't I just go with you?"
"Same category, honey-it has to be approved. But Mac's going to get a big argument from me, because I can't wait that long for the extra equipment. It would mean an extra month out there, and I'm not looking forward to that."
"When will you know?"
Frank sighed. "I don't know. He says he can't see me until after next week because of the semester's starting."
"Frank, what's Mac trying to do to us?" she cried, hearing her voice go slightly off key.
He glanced up at her vehemence. "He isn't trying to do anything to us, honey. What made you say that? You make it sound as if we're being picked on or something."
"I feel that way," she choked, turning her back to him again and working busily in the sink. "Then that means I'll have to stay here next week for certain and the rest of the time most probably, is that it?"
He put the beer can down and went toward her, hugging her from behind. "Tell me what's the matter, Carol."
She stopped working and gripped the edge of the counter. "Myra called yesterday," she said tightly. "She's gotten herself fucked up again on purpose and wants us to board Jimmy here. I didn't even ask her for how long. Knowing her, it would be for the whole damn year."
"What? Wait a minute, Carol, you're going too fast for me. The last I knew, I managed to twist him into the dorm with Freddy Hollister's help-between times when I didn't have anything else to do, that is. Now, start from the beginning."
She told him, and, when she'd finished, he shrugged.
"I don't see anything so bad about it," he said. "You were complaining about being lonely, and . . . "
"But I don't want him here!" she cried, stamping her foot. "And you don't understand my sister the way I do. She does things like this on purpose. She's arrogant and petty and vicious and juvenile and-and stubborn to the point of being downright stupid. She's never cared what sacrifices other people make as long as she gets her way. There isn't a shred of fair play in her."
"Hey, that's enough," Frank said gruffly. "I know what she's like, but it wasn't her fault if Linda got sick."
"I'd rather give her the money than have to go through this."
"You know she wouldn't take it."
"Of course not," Carol said bitterly. "That would make it too easy on everybody else."
"I can't see that it's all that bad," Frank insisted. "I'll call the placement office and have some students come help you with the room, and we'll see if we can't do something else later, when I'm through with this project. If it turns out that bad, I mean. We can't just leave him out in the cold. Now," he said, taking her shoulders firmly and making her look up at him. "If this discussion is finished, I'll grab a sandwich and get back to work. This is falling together faster than I thought it would, and I should be finished in time to take you out for a little celebrating tonight. Would you like that?"
Carol looked at his boyish grin and the twinkle in his eyes and gave in, resting her head against his shoulder and half laughing into his neck.
"Oh, damn you, I'd love it, and you know it," she blubbered, squeezing Frank tightly.
"You'll try the other without any more fuss?"
"I'll try."
"I can't do anything, Carol. Everything's happening on such short notice my hands are tied." tied."
"Just the way she planned it."
"Shh!" Frank kissed her hard, and Carol felt herself melting under the pressure of his lips. He nuzzled her ear and whispered into it. "How about that sandwich?"
"I'll give you some hairy cherry pie instead," she offered in a low voice, wriggling her pelvis suggestively against him.
"I'll eat it tonight for dessert-after we get home."
"I think you've got yourself a date, handsome," Carol said, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a long while.
They drove down the Gold Coast to Sunny Isles and acted like tourists, taking in a sumptuous dinner and a good show and smiling at the gouging they got, knowing it was part of the price.
Carol was very happy when they got back and felt closer to Frank than she had in the past year. Her whole body tingled with renewed vibrance, even though she knew the happiness with him was momentary and that the emptiness in her when he left again would be something she would have to deal with then. She fell into his arms, taking as much joy from the night as she could, kissing him passionately..
"Hi, sweetie," he said tenderly, smiling down on her, welcoming her back.
"Hi, darling." She touched his lips with her fingers. "You look terribly hungry."
"Now that you mention it, a little something would taste good. Any suggestions?"
"I have fresh hair pie, sir-still warm and very moist and tender."
"Mmmmm, sounds delicious. Any whipped cream to go with it?"
"We have an unusual franchise, sir. We provide the whipping, and you provide the cream. That way, it's always fresh and hot."
"Sounds fair enough. Where do I go to get served this tasty concoction?"
"Right in here, sir-in the bedroom. If you'd care to lie down and make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you in just a moment."
"Don't be too long."
She laughed throatily. "I won't, darling."
She hopped into the shower and scrubbed her pussy clean and sweet, already thrilling to the touches of the washcloth against her puffy gap. She knew she'd have no trouble tonight. She felt as if she were falling in love all over again. She came out of the bathroom to see him lying on the bed with a full erection again. She clapped her hands together playfully, continuing the game, and squealed.
"Oh, what a beautiful spigot!"
"It seems to have a leak already. Right there at the tip. Would you mind checking to see what's wrong with it?"
She chuckled and lay alongside him, wrapping her fingers around his stiff rod. She tilted it and rubbed it and then bent her head to suck on it, drawing hard, tasting the oily seepage that came from it.
"Mmmmm, careful there, or you'll make it start working," he groaned.
She spread her thighs and straddled his face, dipping her damp curls around his nose.
"It's time for your hair pie," she said huskily. "Oh, honey, eat it, lick me, kiss me all over!"
Frank wrapped his long fingers around the resilient flesh of her buttocks and drew his wife's hips down. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue along the satiny surfaces of her gap. Carol moaned and sucked on his prick, taking him as far as she could into her mouth.
His lips sucked her clit, and his tongue dipped in and out of her ready hole. She squirmed under his touch and felt her passion soar immediately. A dim, very vague image-more like a feeling-of Al pervaded Carol's thoughts and then was gone. There was no comparison to be made any more. Not if it stayed this way between them. She sucked on Frank's stem and drew more fluid from it without the slightest sense of distaste. She played with his full, drawn-up testicles and even dared to circle his anus with her fingertip. It was a thing they'd never done to each other before, and she nearly came when he reciprocated.
She worked against his tongue and lips, rising high, pausing to ebb, then rising again, readying herself for a monumental explosion that would last her for two weeks if necessary. But she didn't want it this way. She wanted him to squirt in her, to fill her vagina with his prick and blast her womb.
"Oh, Frank-stop, or you'll make me come too soon," she gasped, releasing his penis from her tongue and lips.
"How do you want it, sweetie?" he gasped, wiping her juice from his cheeks and chin. "It's your turn tonight-any way you want."
"On top. God, hurry, darling!"
They switched around, and he got between her widespread thighs. He was inside her in one, easy glide, pressing his pubic bone up against hers, grinding down over her clit and rotating his hips. She locked her ankles over his buttocks and crooned her happiness to him, feeling his solid length deep in her body.
"Oh God, Carol, why don't we do this more often?" he puffed.
"Because you aren't around enough, darling. Oh, you could have pie to eat every night if you wanted it. Why do you think I'm trying so hard to have you take me with you? Oh, Frank," she whimpered. "Darling, it feels so good. It's been so long since . . . "
Carol interrupted herself to fight the male image that was trying to press its way into her consciousness. She struggled to keep it down, but she kept seeing the blond shock of hair, the broad, muscular chest, the powerful arms and big stubby-fingered hands that used to squeeze her breathless. The pearly-toothed grin came out of the past and leered down on her writhing passion, turning her wonderful moment with Frank into a charade.
"No!" she cried, twisting her head.
"Yes, honey, yes! Are you ready? Come hard, darling. We'll come together, like last night."
She locked her arms around his neck, panting harshly, feeling herself rising swiftly toward her peak. Her eyes were open so that she would see her husband and not the phantom from the past. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed the side of his face until his final frantic lunge triggered her release. Then she squeezed her eyes shut to darkness and lifted her hips high, opening her pussy wide for the pulsing climax of his love.
The image filled the blackness against her will, and Frank's body became Jim's-big, full, overpowering, turning her insides to jelly as he blasted his sperm deep into her quaking recesses.
She couldn't fight it now. She was too open, too vulnerable. Memory of Jim filled her completely as she clutched the back above her and shuddered in violent orgasm, made all the more intense by the illicitness of the experience.
Frank puffed and grunted in her ear and strained against her vulva, spilling his seed into her squeezing cunt until he was drained. She coasted down from her peak and felt him relax on top of her. The image faded, and she was with Frank again. She felt ashamed and a little frightened by the unexpected intensity of her orgasm.
She patted him and responded to his murmurings of love and kissed him tenderly, but her mind was not wholly on him. She was thinking ahead to Tuesday, when Jimmy would come to live with her. She knew now that her protests about inconvenience had been smoke screens to hide the truth that had popped up for an instant, but was now glaringly clear. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to be reminded, afraid that she would be carried back into the past to her time of incredibly passionate youth with Jim, just as she'd been tonight.
Carol shook herself mentally and told herself she was being ridiculous. Jimmy was a brat. He was lazy and like his mother, whose selfishness she despised. And Jimmy, no matter how much he might remind her of Jim, was her nephew. Nothing-certainly, nothing-could come of that, no matter how lonely she got or how strong her desires became while Frank was away.
She forced herself back to her husband and spanked his butt playfully. "Hi, darling," she said.
"Hi, yourself," he smiled contentedly. "Welcome back to both of us."
Frank rolled off her and cuddled her in his arms. She snuggled against his nakedness, but she didn't go to sleep for a long time.
4
Carol was prepared to dislike Jimmy. She'd intended to treat him coolly and without favor, as if he were a total stranger she had no intention of becoming friendly with. The attitude held for the first week, mostly because of her annoyance with Myra and the inconvenience that still rankled her.
But the sight of Jimmy unsettled her. He was eighteen. Jim had been twenty. Other than that, there was barely any difference. Jimmy had the same shock of blond hair, the same breadth of chest and thickness of arms, and even the wide-swinging way of walking. He grinned at her constantly, currying her favor, and the sight of his pearly teeth blinded her like sun-studded mirrors and forced her to look into the past. She'd been so preoccupied with avoiding him and being cool that she didn't remember her date with Al until the time had passed. Thinking about it, she smiled to herself and conceded that Jimmy's presence might be good after all. She -had softened slightly toward him on that account when Frank came home again for the weekend.
"How's it going?" he asked, holding her, remembering the week before, when it had been so good between them.
"Better than I'd thought, darling," she answered. "He's quiet and stays out of the way."
Frank smiled and patted her buttock affectionately. "Well, I'm glad you're getting along all right."
She noticed a peculiar emphasis and took another look at his face. "How's it going with you? Not too well. What happened, Frank?"
He dropped the cases and pulled his shirt off, getting ready for his shower. "Just three days of work to do over again," he said irritably. "Collins sank my notes."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, hell-it was an accident, I guess. But a stupid one. Partly my fault. I left them in the raft. Then he and Jacobs started clowning around after dinner. The raft went over. As soon as I realized where I'd left them-I was going to write them up that night-they were gone, of course. They're probably halfway to England by now, or in a shark's belly."
She touched his naked shoulder. "Oh, Frank," she lamented. "I suppose that means you'll be working solidly all weekend, doesn't it?"
He turned toward her. "I'm sorry, honey."
"You don't have to apologize. I understand."
"I wanted to take you out again and see if we couldn't. . . oh, shit. You know."
She smiled reassuringly at him. "It's all right, darling. There's next week. You want some dinner now or later?"
"Oh," he hesitated, "I'd better not have a drink this time."
"You're not going to start work tonight?"
Frank yanked off his pants with abrupt motions. "Yes," he said tightly. He marched into the bathroom and started to shower.
Carol watched him and felt a mixture of anger and disappointment make her hands twist together. In a moment, she left and went into the kitchen. Jimmy was there, and he grinned pearly teeth at her.
"Was that Uncle Frank?" he asked, his voice husky and masculine.
"Yes, he'll be out in a little while. Something I can get you?"
"Oh, I was just doing my homework, and I hit a snag. Mom said you were always pretty smart, and I was wondering if you could give me a hand with it." He grinned prettily at her, all innocence and flattery.
"Why . . . sure, I guess so. But I want to feed my husband first and talk to him a little."
"Oh, thanks, Aunt Carol," he smiled. "There's no hurry with it. I understand. You haven't seen him all week. I want to thank him for putting me up here. I was really in a bind."
"Well, there he is," Frank said, coming into the kitchen. Carol watched them shake hands. "Is she treating you all right?"
"Oh, just great, Uncle Frank. I was just telling her that I wanted to thank you for putting me up and getting me into school and everything. It was really swell of you," he grinned.
"Well, that's all right. Glad to help out. How are the studies?"
Jimmy laughed knowingly. "Sure different from high school, but I think I'll have it licked pretty soon. Well, listen, I know you two want to be alone, so I'll go on back and study some more. Oh," he said suddenly, stopping himself, "if there's anything you want me to do around here while you're gone, like cutting the grass or anything, I'll sure be glad to give it a lick."
Frank grinned at Carol. "Now there's something we hadn't even thought of, honey," he said. "Sure, Jimmy, that'd be swell. Looks like it could use some cutting pretty soon."
"I'll get on it tomorrow, then. See you later."
He turned and walked out after a brief moment of grinning at Frank. It was an instant when Carol saw the two of them together, in contrast, and she couldn't help the comparison of Jim, through Jimmy, against Frank.
It startled her. After living so long with Frank, she'd forgotten the appeal of the pearly teeth, the robust personality, the solid build. It made her think things she didn't want to think, and she turned away from them to carry the plates to the table. Frank followed her after a moment.
"Isn't he eating with us?"
"No, honey," she smiled quickly. "I thought we'd rather be alone, so I fed him early. It is pretty late, you know."
"Seems like a damn nice kid to me," Frank said, sitting down. He hugged her waist briefly. "I think all that fuss you made was for nothing, don't you?"
She removed his arm gently and took her seat. "I guess so," she said.
She barely listened to Frank as he talked about the problems on the island. The resolve to become interested in his work, which had been so strong last week, seemed weak right now. She tried several times to get interested, looking up to watch his lips move and his slender hands gesticulate in making a point, but her mind kept wandering toward the other room where Jimmy was.
"Frank," she interrupted him. "How late are you going to be working tonight?"
He stopped and looked at her. "I don't know-why? I thought I'd go until I had it pretty well under control. That way, I can finish up tomorrow and then start on the regular weekend forms."
"Will we be able to go out tomorrow night-Sunday, maybe? There's a movie I just know . . . "
"Carol, I can't," Frank said apologetically. "I've already said I was sorry, just a few minutes ago, remember?"
She looked down at her plate. "I guess I'd forgotten," she said softly.
"Listen, why don't you go anyway? I won't see much of you this weekend anyway, but there's no reason for you to sit around and do nothing."
"Alone?"
"Of course not," he laughed. "Take Jimmy with you."
She started and then controlled herself, smiling quickly. "Oh, I'd rather not. I'd feel a little funny. Maybe I'll just listen to a new record I got this week, by Villa-Lobos."
"What is it, another play? I'd like to hear it sometime."
She watched him cut a piece of meat and put it in his mouth. The difference in their interests suddenly spread to an unbridgeable gulf, a yawning abyss that had been sidestepped last week by sex but was back again in all its spacious emptiness. His fish, and her music, and little in between.
"No, darling," she said rather curtly. "Villa-Lobos is a composer. Brazilian, don't you remember,? "
He looked at her, his face holding a blank expression, made more so by the effect of bright blue eyes surrounded by deep tan and bleached eyebrows and hair.
"Oh. Yes, I remember," he said, clearly not. "Well, do what you want. You're going to have to forget I'm here. I still think you ought to go to the movie with Jimmy, just for something to do." He put his hand over hers. "I'm sorry, honey."
"Yes, you've said that. I'll think about it."
He folded his napkin and pushed away from the table. "I'm going to get started. Will you be all right?"
"Yes," she said, smiling faintly up at him. "I'll let you know when I'm ready for bed." It was their signal to make love.
"All right." He winked at her. "I guess we can't be as free about it as we used to, can we?"
"It was your idea to have him."
He hesitated a moment, then went off, toward his study without comment. Carol sat at the table and felt resentment build inside her. She didn't want to feel it, but she couldn't help herself. She thought she'd been making progress with him in developing his interest in her records and books, but now, after this, it was clear he didn't give a damn. It was the same as not caring about her.
She sighed and picked up the dishes, remembering the times she had sat and read his journals and papers on some aspect of marine biology that had failed to capture her interest. She was as guilty as he. She put the dishes on the counter and stared vacantly through the dark window, thinking that their reconciliation on any plane other than sexual seemed hopeless. After a moment, she looked toward the other room and went toward the door. She knocked on it and heard Jimmy's husky voice answer from inside, telling her to come in.
"What seems to be the problem?" she asked, smiling at him, going over to sit on the bed, which was beside his desk. She watched his eyes flicker over her bare legs and travel up her mini to the crease in her lap and her softly protruding breasts. She experienced a disturbing sensation that made her womb throb with the need in her that she'd neglected all week.
He held her gaze for a moment, smiling prettily, then began to shuffle through class notes he was trying to coordinate with the text. She watched him and was strongly reminded of Jim. She had the feeling that if she were to close her eyes a moment and open them again, she would be in the past, and it would be Jim leaning over the desk instead of his son.
When he'd finished stating his problem, Carol realized she hadn't heard it. "What?" she asked. "You'd better go through that again, I'm afraid my mind was wandering."
He grinned and shut the book. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I think I just answered my own question anyway. You know, I can't believe you and Mom are sisters."
The suddenness of it startled her. "Why is that, Jimmy?"
He leaned on his hand, his head propped casually. "You're so much prettier than she is-younger and fresher looking. Gee, Aunt Carol, I hope you don't take that the wrong way," he said quickly, straightening up and looking flustered.
Despite herself, Carol felt her skin go prickly with sudden emotion, and she knew she was blushing.
"I know what you mean," she laughed, putting her hand over his in an automatic gesture. "But, after all, I am five years younger."
"Aw, it's more than that," he continued, seeing that she liked it. "I've been watching you, you know. You move around different than she does. I don't know. I'll bet you could pass for a student any day."
"Thank you, Jimmy," she said, smiling at him. "That's very flattering for an old aunt to hear."
"Come on-you're not old at all. Mom, now-she's old. And I don't mean the five years, either. Know what I mean?"
"Yes, I know what you mean." She stood, ready to leave quickly before the conversation, innocent or not, went any deeper.
"Hey, I meant to tell you," he said, swiveling around so that his eyes were nearly on a level with the tips of her breasts. "I noticed all those records out there and that neat stereo. Do you listen to all that stuff?"
"Yes," she laughed, not meaning to make her breasts bounce before his intent gaze. "I listen to all that stuff quite regularly."
"Would you let me listen to it too?" he asked with excitement.
"Well, certainly. But I didn't think the younger generation went in for anything but hard rock, or whatever it's called."
"That's what it's called," he laughed. "Same as you get after a date that didn't come across." He laughed again, making a throaty, intimate sound of it. "But I get tired of it. I made up my mind before I left home I was going to learn to appreciate the finer things of life things you could show me that Mom can't, like symphonies and stuff. Think you could teach me?"
She looked at his cheeky grin, the pearly teeth that blinded her, and the same twinkle of mischief that had been in his father's eye. She was certain now where he was leading the conversation. She knew she should back away and make a vague commitment that she would never carry out. But she had to remove the last trace of doubt. And she wanted to feel the delicious tingle of excitement innocent flirtation always gave her.
"Teach you what?" she asked coyly.
"Anything you want," he rejoined, staring into her eyes in a challenging way. "About the music, I mean."
"Of course that's what you meant. I'd be delighted to, Jimmy. I've tried to teach your Uncle Frank, but he's too busy for me to hook him on it."
"Yeah," he said. "I've noticed. You must get pretty lonely during the week while he's away. Then he comes home and works all weekend."
"It's his job. It won't last forever."
"It's a shame," Jimmy said. He smiled again. "I hope I can keep you from getting lonely during the week."
Carol let it go. It was too open, too blunt, just the way his father would have said it. "I was just going in to listen to a new record that came this week. I haven't heard it yet. Would you like to join me?"
"I sure would," he said firmly, standing up.
He was a head taller than she was. She glanced up at him and felt her mouth go dry and her pussy go wet. She felt a moment of dizziness, thinking the past was back. She waited for the strong arms to come around her and hold her and for the big head to dip down to kiss her fully. When none of that happened, she caught herself and took a step backward before she turned and walked, shaking, out of the room. She felt his eyes on her buttocks and the roll of her hips. She tried to stiffen up and stop the fluid motion, but her body wouldn't respond. She felt the swelling, softening sensation of her labia as they filled with excitement inside her panties and brushed softly at her inner thighs. She clenched her fists to control it, knowing it was all just impossibly insane.
She reached the stereo and the records and motioned for Jimmy to sit down in one of the chairs. But he didn't. He stood beside her, squatting down with his knees jutting out when she knelt to reach the bottom shelf in search of the new record she suddenly couldn't recall where she'd put.
"Oh, here it is," he said. "Is this the one?" He reached out and handed it to her, smiling-always smiling in the way his father used to smile. "Something number seven by Villa-Lobos?"
"Yes," she said, her lower lip quivering in uncontrollable tics. She bit on it with her teeth, knowing it made her take on a coquettish appearance whether she wanted to or not. Carol bent over the turntable and the controls, setting them. She felt his eyes gazing at the smooth outlines of her calves and curving thighs, then homing in to center on her flaring buttocks and the dangling swell of her breasts. She came erect suddenly and saw him shift his gaze from where she'd felt it, catching him red-handed at his open inspection of her body.
Jimmy smiled slowly, his eyes locked with hers. He wasn't the least bit ashamed or embarrassed. She tried to stare him down, telling him silently that this was enough-that it had gone too far already and was to go no further. But her eyes wavered, and her breath became shallow and quick.
The music started softly, swelling out of the speakers with the fullness of exotic color and intrigue she loved about the Brazilian's works. Sound filled the room, painting a picture of lush jungle growth and winging, brilliantly plumed birds that abounded in the Amazonian jungles. The music grew more exotic in flavor as the orchestral brush moved, and she felt a swelling inside her as if something were flourishing there with the same abandon of the luxuriant jungle.
Jimmy broke the contact between them when he was ready to. She felt relieved and ridiculously weak at being unable to do it herself. His hand touched her waist as he guided her toward the chair, and her flesh quivered under his fingers. She sat and went limp with the intensity of her desire. The lush magic heightened it as it swelled outward, and she was afraid to think what her response would be if he bent over her and kissed her the way she wanted to be kissed. She clenched her hands in her lap and stared fixedly at the speakers as if she could see the notes coming out of them. It wasn't until the third movement she felt able to look at him again and talk.
"That's sure neat music," he said enthusiastically during a lull.
She watched him lean forward to concentrate on it, and her eyes roamed over the fullness of his shoulders and the breadth of his back. She glanced at the tight pants and the line of his leg and remembered how the sight of Jim's body would make her go fluttery inside with desire for him.
Flashes of the past came back to her, times of passionate sex in his car, once in her room with her parents downstairs, the nights on the beaches of the numerous blue lakes when the stars were bright and the heavy, sweet scent of orange blossoms filled the air. She recalled their daring plan to snuggle up in an abandoned house during a hurricane watch to spend the night together, explaining they'd been caught in the storm and couldn't leave. She smiled at the memory of their disappointment when the squall veered and fizzled, and they'd each gone home to their separate, lonely beds to await the next opportunity.
There were other memories of Jim. But she'd only touched the surface of the many locked inside her when the music ended, and the machine turned itself off. She looked over at Jimmy and saw memory blend with reality for a wildly unsettling moment. She came to with a start.
"That was beautiful, Aunt Carol," Jimmy said softly. "So much depth and color and . . . and . . . " He struggled hard for another word.
"I'm glad you liked it, Jimmy," she said. Her hands were no longer damp, and she began to feel in control of herself again. He'd even returned to being a boy. "We can do this again, if you like," she said easily.
"I sure would. You don't know." He looked at her straight on for a moment. "Maybe you could show me some of those books over there, too. I guess it's you who reads them, isn't it?"
"Yes," she said, feeling pleased again. "Help yourself."
"Aw, I'd rather you show me some good ones. Some with depth." He paused, assessing her reaction. "You know, I knew it was you. Uncle Frank's a nice guy and all that, but.. . I don't know." He hung his head.
"But what, Jimmy, tell me."
"You wouldn't get sore?"
"Of course not."
"Well, he just doesn't seem like the intellectual type-not like you. Know what I mean? The kind of person with deep feeling. That's what I like. I'm tired of these silly girls my age. All they think about is smoking grass and getting laid and silly junk. I'm sure glad you're letting me stay here so I can learn about your things." He smiled again, the way she seemed to like him to. "Well, I'd better go back to my room. You and Uncle Frank will be wanting to hit the sack after a week without . . . " He let his thought hang. "Thanks, Aunt Carol."
"You're welcome, Jimmy." She watched him go out of the room, digging his hands into his back pockets and taking wide-swinging steps, the picture of a typical teenaged boy.
Carol sat in the chair and thought for a long time about her feelings toward him and the way they'd been so mixed. She twisted around and looked after the way he'd gone and wondered how he could possibly have induced such strong sexual feelings in her. He was just a kid. She held her hands together tightly and said it to herself again with more emphasis. Just a young boy.
She turned off the lights and went slowly toward Frank's study, stopping in the doorway to see him sitting half hidden behind stacks of files and papers.
"Ready for bed?" she asked.
He finished writing something and looked up. "What?"
"I said I was headed for bed. Are you coming?"
He sighed deeply and glanced at the pile of work. "Well, I wasn't quite ready. Another hour, maybe."
"It's nearly midnight, Frank. I'm tired, and I know you must be. Why don't you stop and let me relax you a little, and then you can get a fresh start in the morning."
He grinned at her. She noticed his smile lacked the sparkle and intimacy of Jimmy's. Rather cold, in fact. His head and shoulders weren't as impressive, either, and he lacked the robust strength.
"You're trying to tempt me, you rascal," he laughed.
"Only trying?"
"I've got too much to do yet, sweetie," he said. "If I left it now, I wouldn't be able to concentrate right. If you're pooped, go on to bed. Maybe we can work something out in the morning."
"Don't you mean work it in?"
Frank glanced up, startled by Carol's unusual quips. "Yeah," he said.
She sighed and let her shoulders slump. "All right. I guess I don't have any choice, do I?"
Frank didn't say anything, and she could see that his mind had already wandered back to the point of interruption. She turned and went toward the bedroom. She heard Jimmy in the kitchen, closing the refrigerator door. She listened to his steps and the door of his room close, and she hugged herself and shivered slightly. She had a choice. But she wasn't going to take it. She hurried to the bedroom and closed herself inside it to be sure.
Carol may have dozed for a bit before she woke up, she wasn't sure. The bed was still empty, and she could see the light outside coming under the door. She wondered what had awakened her and lay still for a moment trying to figure it out. When she moved her thighs under the sheet, she knew. Her pussy was aflame with desire.
"Oh, God," she moaned. She rolled onto her side and tucked her knees up next to her breasts, but the burning sensation didn't go away.
She thought ot getting up and going out to get Frank and dragging him back into the bedroom to fuck her hard. She glanced at the clock and saw that only fifteen minutes had gone by. She rolled onto her back and stared through the darkness toward the ceiling, growing conscious of every pulse and throb in her body. She felt her nipples pulse into fullness with the waiting. She felt her thighs grow liquid and warm at their juncture with her cleft. She watched the luminous hand sweep slowly around the face of the clock, marking off another minute.
Her desire grew. She couldn't understand why Frank would ignore her this way. And himself. She thought back, trying to remember if he'd ever done it before. She wondered if there were another woman on the island with them-one he hadn't told her about. Maybe that was why he didn't want her to go there.
She put the idea out of her mind. The notion was absurd. Frank wouldn't know how to be unfaithful. Only she knew that. With Al. With Jim, if he were still alive and handy.
"God, yes," she whispered, feeling a flare of sexual need blaze through her suddenly.
She occupied her mind with memories of him, sneaking them into her mind under the cover of darkness and loving the thrill each one gave her. He'd been an exciting man. An earthy one. Not base and primitive the way Al was, but good and healthily robust with his love of sex. He'd been the one to teach her to love it. She remembered and shivered.
But then Myra had come along with some involved story about how her date for graduation had broken something and was in the hospital, and it was too late to get another, could she borrow Jim. It had been the beginning of the end for Carol.
She shook that thought from her mind, not wanting to ruin her sexual dreaminess with bitter thoughts. She'd wondered many times if Myra wiggled more or did things for him that Carol hadn't-sucking his prick, maybe. She'd never gotten up the nerve to do that until, seeking variation with Frank to try to stimulate their sagging ardor, she'd finally forced herself to suck Frank off a year ago.
Myra had done something to steal Jim from her. For a moment Carol pondered a way to get really even with her sister even after all this time. She knew it was petty and vindictive, but she couldn't stop the thoughts.
Then something came to her that she'd forgotten all about-something she'd pushed back into her mind and kept hidden for eighteen years.
She pictured the little house Jim and Myra had moved into right after Jimmy was born. She could still see every detail of the small bathroom and their crowded bedroom, with the bold-patterned, orange and brown bedspread Jim had obviously picked out. They'd been out, having her baby-sit. She'd just given Jimmy a bath and taken him to the bed to diaper him. She stared at a semen stain on the sheet and felt an overpowering rush of desire for Jim. She hugged his pillow and inhaled his fragrance from it while little Jimmy kicked and giggled next to her.
She'd looked at him and seen his little prick. She'd reached out and touched it, and the baby had looked at her with big, solemn eyes, knowing something different and good was happening to him. The fingerling penis had stiffened in her hand.
She could even remember the things she'd thought at that instant-how Jim was hers, how the baby should have been hers, how she wanted him now when he was out with her sister. It had all seemed very rational to her at the time.
She'd looked at the stiff little penis in her hand and bent down and sucked it all into her mouth-sucked hard, loving it, thrilling to the feel of a prick that was half Jim's. Crushing the baby's pillow up under her dress and locking her thighs about it, Carol had rocked her pussy back and forth and come with a blazing orgasm, sucking on the little prick so hard that Jimmy had started to cry.
It had frightened her. The noise was loud. His little penis was bright red. Full of shame and guilt, she'd put the pillow back, turning it over to hide the wet spot her pussy had left and then covering the red, stiff evidence of what she'd done with a diaper as fast as she could pin it on.
The memory filled Carol with incredible heat. She squirmed on the bed and covered her pussy with her hand, pressing down hard. She felt the swollen condition of her lips and the wetness seeping from between them. The sensitive button of her clit nearly exploded with starbursts of sensation when her palm rubbed across it.
She clamped her thighs tightly over her hand and twisted around to look at the clock again. Five more minutes. It was going to be impossible for her to wait for Frank-impossible.
Wild desires sang through Carol. She could get even with Myra by taking her son from her-taking the baby that should have been hers. She could do it by fucking him-sucking on his prick again. She could satisfy her own raging need and teach Frank not to ignore her any more the way he'd been doing and was doing tonight. All she had to do was get up and sneak into his room and slip into his bed. The strong arms would readily come around her. The big, manly prick would stiffen at once with youthful eagerness and fill her satiny tunnel full. He would be able to last and last, just the way his father had. A few simple, quiet steps, and . . .
Carol moaned aloud and rubbed the ends of her breasts with her hands. Her thighs scissored and twitched and her tissues bloated into a state of full readiness, full acceptance. She shook her head violently back and forth to rid it of the evil thoughts and brought her hand to her cunt. She had done it once. She could do it without the spanking this time.
She lifted her knees and spread them wide, opening her pussy to her hand. Her finger slid up and down her dripping gap, smearing her slick fluids over every hollow and crease of her vulva. The tip of her finger dipped inside, and she felt the big muscle spasm around it and try to draw it deeper. Her hips lifted high and fell back again, then began circular motions that, for some reason, fascinated her with the lewdness of her own body.
Carol drew her wet fingers from the bottom of her slit, circling her anus with motions that made her breath suck in raggedly. Her clitoral button throbbed with the need to be stroked and fondled.
She brought her other hand to her pussy and slowly slid her thumb into the slippery tunnel. She lay still and strained and imagined it was Jim's big, wonderful prick going into her again. She could feel his broad weight crushing on top of her as his hips settled into her saddle. She pushed hard when the length ran out, wanting deeper penetration. She rocked her hips in all directions, her heat making the motions erratic.
Carol rolled her head back and forth and licked her lips, tasting Jim's name on them again after so many years. Her passion soared beyond control, and she urged it on, knowing she would be unable to stop now even if Frank came in with his cock in his hand. She teased around the area of her hooded clit and made her finger roll over it with abandon.
The rush toward orgasm was meteoric. She let Jim's image fill her senses without shame, reliving the passionate beauty of her youth. The spasms started deep inside her, and tingling fingers reached outward all through her body, blossoming toward her breasts until the nipples flared and burned.
A cry rattled in her throat. She didn't want to stop it. Everything felt too good and wonderful to stop any of it. She could only hope Frank didn't hear, and she gave voice to its fullness.
Her belly squeezed and shook, and her thighs clamped tightly around her hands. She felt the inner muscles of her cunt roll and twist around emptiness. She wished there were a prick inside her-any prick, even Al's, squirting lustily, vilely, any way.
At the height of her orgasm, when she was most open, Jim melted and changed slightly and became Jimmy-youthful, vigorous, boisterous with his passion, smiling down on her with his pearly teeth.
Carol's climax took another surge upward, and she doubled up with the intensity of it, incestual illicitness thrilling her beyond reason. When she finally came down, panting hard, she stared with shocked eyes at the dark ceiling and wondered what manner of woman she'd become to dream such things.
She wanted to turn over and hide her face in the pillow, but she lacked the strength. She was totally limp. She'd gone all week. She hadn't seen Al. She'd just allowed herself to become too horny, as Al would say. That was the reason. It was nothing more than that.
She clung to the thought, not wanting there to be any other reason for fantasizing Jimmy's penis inside her.
After a long time, her breathing slowed, and she was able to roll over. She snuggled up contentedly and lay on her side, full of pleasure from her release. She heard Frank come in quietly and putter around in the bathroom. The toilet growled. Her eyelids sank heavily. She felt the bed sag beside her and his hand come around the side of her naked hip. He whispered something and kissed her cheek lightly. She bobbed up and down from sleep's grip and then sank into the softness, not caring what happened as long as she could sleep. Bright sun sparkled from shining teeth in her mind, and blond hair waved in a gentle breeze. She smiled softly and stepped into the sunlit meadow and-ran happily beside him out of sight.
5
Carol found she had difficulty looking at Jimmy the next day. His eyes were too penetrating, too knowing. It was as if he'd been outside the door listening to her orgasming cries or had been inside her mind, watching himself fuck her through her images.
She was glad when he went outside to mow the grass. She watched him secretively through one window and then the next, astounded by the manner in which she was spying on him. She saw the flex of his muscles and the beads of sweat over his chest and back. When he came in for some cold water, she smelled the animal stench of his masculinity and felt her pussy swell open again.
The weekend was torture for her. Jimmy seemed to be parading himself purposely, as if trying to arouse her to a high pitch. She wished Frank would come out of his study and take her away from the house-anywhere, just long enough to escape the sticky web her desires were spinning.
She didn't go to the movie with Jimmy. They sat in the living room and listened to one record after another, while she explained the composer's purpose in a halting, uncontrollable voice. All the while, he looked at her with unveiled intimacy, glancing at her breasts and her hips and the nakedness of her legs and thighs.
She tried to regard the growing relationship as a platonic one, but neither her body nor his movements and intimate glances would permit it to be that way.
When he finally left her and went to bed, Carol Was gasping, and her panties were soaked at the crotch. She rushed to Frank's study and literally dragged him into the bedroom with her, where she sucked his cock into hardness and then pulled it into her body. She exploded almost immediately, squealing and kicking and biting him painfully on the neck. Then she lay back and gasped and waited for him to finish. His sperm poured into her in great quantities from his weekly store, but the sensation failed to excite her this time. She looked at him and knew with a sense of hopelessness that he'd been merely a mechanical aid to her release. She knew that if rape by a woman were possible, then she had just committed it. She knew why she had, and the knowledge frightened her.
"Frank, do you have to go this week?" she asked.
"Of course, sweetie. Can't you stand to be without me any more? I've never seen you this way. Not for a long time."
She looked away, feeling helpless and out of control, fearing the week ahead.
"I'll see if I can't get Mac to do something."
"All right." The words were hollow. It would be too late then.
She quit pretending to herself. She quit trying to hide. Sunday, while Frank was working, she went out to the pool in her bikini and swam, then lay in the shade, because the sun was too strong.
"Looks like fun," Jimmy said, coming up beside her. "Mind if I join you?"
She glanced at his muscular, masculine build and the light curls of blond down covering his body. Her eyes lifted to the revealing bulge inside his trunks, and the wetness of the water between her thighs was joined by another kind. She felt his eyes on her rounded, scantily-clad buttocks, and she rolled over onto her back. Her breasts thrust up inside the small halter, and her nipples made bumps in the material. Her thighs parted slightly in a natural motion, but she knew he could see the lined swell of her pussy's fullness between them, and she didn't care.
"Join me how?" she asked sleepily, taunting him in a way she knew she shouldn't.
He smiled slowly. "Swimming, of course," he said, his teeth shining, his blue eyes glistening with heat that came from somewhere other than the sun.
She glanced down and saw that the bulge had increased slightly in bulk. She licked her lips and felt her mouth grow dry. She closed her eyes briefly, hating herself for the desire in her that propelled her toward unspeakable acts and thoughts.
"Yes," she said hollowly, giving up. "You may join me any time, Jimmy. I guess you know that." His manner changed again. "Gee, thanks, Aunt
Carol," he said. He flipped a towel aside and dove into the pool, splashing around lustily in it for a long time. She got up and went inside before he came out and they became involved again.
Frank came into the kitchen in a preoccupied march, and she turned to face him. "Want your lunch?" she asked, canting her hip, displaying the tiny covering over it.
"I'll get it," he said, barely glancing up. He gave her a peck on the lips as he passed by her toward the refrigerator. "Been swimming?"
"Yes," she said. "You haven't even noticed the new suit I got on sale. Do you like it?"
He looked up and stared half blankly, and she twirled around for him, thrusting her breasts out and parting her thighs invitingly.
"Yeah, it looks great," he said, not looking at her. He began making a sandwich.
"I was trying to give them to you," she said. She went up to him. "Stop making that damned sandwich and hold me," she said.
Frank looked at her with surprise. He put down the utensils and took her in his arms mechanically. She pressed up tightly against him, wanting to feel him spark desire for his body into her and remove the other. It didn't happen. She took his hand and placed it between her thighs, rubbing her pussy up and down over his long fingers. She felt them slip around over the material as if lubricated with juice that had soaked through.
"Mmmmm," he said, feeling the slickness. "Honey, what's the matter with you lately?"
"Nothing you couldn't fix, darling," she breathed. "Oh, Frank, come on-I want you now."
"Honey, be reasonable," he said. "Jimmy's around somewhere, and I've still got a lot of work to do. Can't you wait until tonight? You know we always do it on Sunday night."
Carol sagged against her husband and wanted to cry. "Of course," she said. She thought of many other things to say, but let them go. They would all come out sounding bitter. She twisted out of his arms and prepared his lunch for him. "Here," she said curtly, handing him the plate. She turned away quickly and went into the bedroom to change into other clothes, hoping he would follow her. He didn't.
She watched the news on television while dinner was cooking. The Miami Hurricane Center was keeping watch on a broad system in the South Atlantic that showed little sign of compacting and moving but could. Hope that it would grow and come whirling over the low cay and bury it swelled in her and then faded as she listened. The TV stayed on, but she didn't really see the rest of the news.
During the evening, she avoided Jimmy by running around pretending to have to clean the house. He didn't offer to help her, and she was glad. Frank finished his work around ten and came out, jangled by the nervous fatigue that accompanies too much work for too long. They had a desultory conversation while he unwound and was ready to fall asleep sitting up.
Carol felt drained and cool. She let Frank make love to her, but her heat of earlier was gone. Frank's own ardor came more from duty and habit than desire, because he was sapped. He slid his penis into her and found her rather dry. He worked for a long time before he came. Carol cradled his body and lifted up to meet him, faking orgasm for him again.
When he left Monday morning, Jimmy was already gone to an early class, and she clung to Frank uncertainly, wanting him to go and yet wishing he could stay. She shook with apprehension and a fear of wrongdoing greater than she'd ever felt before, even with Al.
"Sweetie, come on," he said gently. "You know I have to go. I can't just walk out of it at this point, so close to the end. I don't know what to make of this, Carol. You won't be lonely any more with Jimmy around. What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she said, hiding her face from him. "I wish that hurricane would hurry up."
"What? What hurricane?"
"I saw it on the news. It's supposed to fizzle before it gets going. But it would be nice if you could take this week off. Can't you say you're sick?"
He looked at her quizzically, a little affronted. "This isn't like you, Carol."
She held his gaze a moment, then looked away. "I'm sorry," she said. "You'd better hurry. I'll be all right, I'm just acting silly."
He kissed her lightly. "That's better. I'm going to be damn sure I've got some free time next weekend so that we can go out again. We both need that."
Carol smiled. "All right. You do that."
She watched him leave, backing his car out of the drive. Frank waved to her before he turned and went down the street, and she felt a great pit of emptiness inside her. It was an emotion close to despair. She went back into the house and stared at the emptiness, looked at the clock go slowly around for a moment, then wandered through the rooms.
She wound up in Jimmy's room. She didn't know what she was doing there or what she was looking for. A few texts were propped neatly on his desk. The bed was made, and the room was clean. Carol was surprised to see that he kept it that way.
On impulse, she opened one of his dresser drawers. It looked like a rat's nest. Things were tumbled and wadded as if dumped there from a great height. Without thinking, she picked up an item, a T-shirt, and folded it. Then she thought better of it and rumpled it up again. She didn't want him to know she'd been in here.
Carol was about to close the drawer when she saw something else. She hesitated, then reached in to pull out a pair of knit briefs. She held it up and looked at the crotch, feeling a peculiar thrill go through her. She held the bulge in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes, imagining that his genitals were packed inside the pouch, firm and young and strong. She shivered and put them back quickly, closing the drawer with shame.
But she didn't leave the room. It seemed there was something intimate she could learn about him if she looked far enough. She opened the other drawers, lifting and separating, searching for something that would tell her for certain that he wasn't Jim, was nothing like Jim-something that would enable her to stop the unbelievable relationship building between them before it went altogether too far.
In the bottom drawer, was a magazine. Carol looked at the cover and was jolted by the shock it gave her. It showed a huge blowup of a woman's spread cunt, gleaming and pink, the vaginal mouth spread tightly around the thickest prick she could imagine. The shaft was halfway in, and the fuzzy balls rested against the woman's inner thigh at the bottom corner of the picture.
Carol stared at it for a long moment, feeling desire begin a lazy spiral deep inside her belly. She glanced around, checking the time to be sure he wouldn't walk in on her after his class, and opened the book. She turned page after page until the shock of one scene blended with that of the next and became a vibrant, continuous throb inside her. She had never seen such pictures in her life, could not imagine their being published.
Putting the magazine back where she found it, Carol half staggered out of the room. She sat in a chair in the living room and knew she had discovered the thing about Jimmy she'd wanted to find-the thing that would make him different from Jim.
But the effect she'd been after didn't come. She'd wanted the thing to turn him back into a boy for whom she could have no possible desire. But the sight of the explicit photographs of all manners of fucking had aroused her. Worse, they had aroused her desire for him.
She knew why he had the magazine. Jim used to talk about doing it. He had the magazine so he could look at it while he jacked his young, vigorous cock with his fist and made it spurt into his handkerchief or whatever receptacle was handy.
Carol moaned and crossed her thighs, feeling a tingle go through her. She imagined the way he lay in bed and did it, pumping his hips and prick up into his hand, wishing it were buried-where? In one of the cunts in the pictures? Or possibly . . . in hers?
The irony of her thoughts struck Carol and made her feel odd. Jimmy hung around her and flirted with her openly, feasting his eyes on her body, turning them both on so that they could each go to his room and masturbate away the desire that had built between them.
For some reason, the thought made her feel stronger. Up to now, Carol had felt that she was in the boy's grip, under his spell, because of her memories of Jim. Now she knew she was having as much effect on him as he had on her, and the knowledge removed some of the fear. It made them accomplices in guilt.
Going in to put on her bikini, Carol looked at herself in the mirror and studied the smooth, youthful lines of her body. She looked as good as any of the girls in the pictures, even if she was old enough to be the mother of any of them. Her hips were as slim, her breasts as firm and high and pert, her cheeks as taut and resilient. And she knew her labia were as firm and puffy and slick, her pussy just as tight.
She ran her fingers through her yellow hair and felt self-confidence return. She went through the house with a light step toward the pool and spent half the day there, napping in the shade and swimming. She heard Jimmy come back from classes and call for her.
"Out by the pool, Jimmy," she said, raising her voice. "Get your suit on and take a dip."
He appeared in the doorway, smiling. His pants were tightly molded around his genitals. Carol looked at the bulge openly, remembering how she'd visualized them inside his briefs, how she'd imagined his big fist stroking up and down his shaft. She had the wild urge to tease him into doing it right at the moment so that she wouldn't have to imagine seeing him any more.
"Gee, that looks good, Aunt Carol," he said easily, not being specific about what he meant. "But I've got tons of homework. They really piled it on today. I'd better get right at it."
Carol lifted one knee, feeling the material of her bikini bottom pull tight across her buttock and crotch.
"That's too bad," she said. "The water feels good today." She felt a trace of disappointment until Jimmy grinned suddenly.
"Okay-you talked me into it. Be right back."
He gave an athletic hop-and-run and disappeared inside the house. Carol leaned back in the chaise lounge and gripped the arms firmly with her hands, tightening up inside against the feeling of looseness that was coming over her. Jimmy returned quickly, still adjusting his trunks to his body, trying to get everything to fit snugly into them. She watched his motions and felt a lick of desire shiver through her.
"Come on, you too," Jimmy said exuberantly.
"I've already been in," she said.
"That's no excuse." He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the furniture easily, then ran her toward the pool until she had to leap in after him with a squeal.
Jimmy bobbed to the surface, laughing, making her feel young again. They swam a few strokes together, and then he raced out ahead of her. Carol laughed and stood in the water with her legs spread slightly, watching him. She saw him coming toward her underwater, let out a squeal, and tried to back away. But he caught her legs and rose up like a great whale, blowing and spouting, dumping her onto her back with a great splash. When Carol came up sputtering and blinking, she didn't see him.
She felt him put his head between her thighs and lift up, raising her from the water. She took a grip on his shaggy hair and let out another squeal as his face surfaced and she was astride his shoulders.
"Jim, stop!" she cried, laughing.
He waded around, roaring and laughing, pretending they were fighting another couple. It was all Carol could do to hang on. Her bottom slid all over his shoulders, and her wide-spread twat rubbed up and down the back of his neck, filling her with delightful sensations. His big hands gripped her thighs and the sides of her hips all over until he reached around and cupped the firm balls of her cheeks in his palms and flipped her over his head with a roar of victory.
Carol tumbled underwater and surfaced, sputtering and giggling as she hadn't done in years. Her halter had slipped off one breast to reveal the pink bud of her nipple.
"Jim, shame on you!" she cried, pulling the material up quickly. It was thin and it clung in wet transparency to her breasts, outlining her nipples.
Jimmy grinned and hunkered down in the water, looking at her boldly. "I remind you a lot of Dad, huh?" he said.
Carol stopped laughing with a start. She looked at the head just above the choppy surface and realized what she'd called him in the moment of playfulness that had made her forget the passage of nineteen years.
"Yes," she said finally, slipping down with him so that her breasts were covered. "Yes, you remind me a great deal of him, Jimmy. I'm sorry. I guess I forgot myself there for a minute."
"Aw, that's all right. It's good for you to feel young again. You sure look the part. Mom does it once in a while, but she doesn't look right at it, know what I mean?" He paddled closer to her. "Listen, Aunt Carol, I know all about you and Dad-how you were lovers before he married Mom."
"Oh? How do you know that?"
"She brags about it sometimes. I think she pulled a dirty trick, if you want to know. Dad was a pretty good guy. He deserved better than her."
"That's no way to talk about your mother, Jimmy."
He grinned and laughed. "Aw, come on. I know how you two get along, don't feed me a bunch of stuff. I'm not a kid any longer; I know how things go. Just between the two of us, I think Mom needs a good stiff one, know what I mean? It might calm her down a little."
"Jimmy, really!"
He smiled at her and rose out of the water until it was at his chest. He took another step toward Carol, and she stood herself, wondering what he was going to do. Her breasts pushed fitfully at the wet, clinging halter, and he gazed at them softly.
"Now I'm disappointed," Jimmy said easily. "I didn't think you were hung up about talking straight. You called me Jim a minute ago. Why don't you go on thinking I'm Dad so we can talk on an equal level?"
"Because I . . . because you aren't.. . " Carol stammered.
"I wish I was," he said bluntly.
An incredible thrill passed through Carol as she looked at Jimmy and saw her lover of the past. She knew her mucus was trailing in the water from between her thighs. Her mouth opened and closed twice as she tried to think of something to say to break this dangerous spell, but nothing came out.
She turned and waded toward the edge of the pool and lifted herself out of the water. She sat on the cement rim with a squelch and dangled her feet in the water. Jimmy came toward her and rested his elbows on the cement and looked up at her.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to say anything I shouldn't have."
"Yes you did," Carol said firmly. "This is going too far, Jimmy. I won't put up with any more of it. All right, you remind me a great deal of your father-enough to make me forget who you really are once in a while. But it's going to stop, is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'm," he said. There was the hint of a grin on Jimmy's face. He dipped his head slowly and placed his lips on the inward curve of her waist and sucked the flesh into his mouth, nibbling it tenderly.
Carol froze, stunned to inaction by the audacity and the delicious touch. Her belly spasmed and she gripped his hair to pull his head away roughly. But she held it against her for the briefest moment, her blood pounding through her, and when she began to pull him away, he was already releasing her flesh from between his lips.
"I just had to do that, Aunt Carol," Jimmy said softly "You're so damn beautiful, I can't stand it."
Carol denied the sensations singing through her body and pretended nothing had happened. She didn't look at the red spot on her waist for fear her resolve would melt.
"I'm going in to start dinner," she said tightly. "You come in and get ready."
"I'll have to wait in here for just a minute," Jimmy said, blinding her with his smile again.
Carol knew his meaning. She closed her eyes to shut out the mistaken identity and went quickly inside. She gripped the edge of the counter with her hands and hung her head and gasped harshly, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
"God," she whispered. "Oh, my God, I can't stand it!"
She cupped her pussy and shook it up and down as if it were an offending, vile orifice. She slapped it twice painfully. Through the window she saw Jimmy hop out of the pool and come toward the house. His wet trunks clearly outlined the size and girth of his half-hard prick and Carol knew it had been fully erect, perhaps sprouting out the top of his trunks, under cover of the water and the edge of the pool.
She dashed to her bedroom before he came in and stripped her bikini from her body. In the mirror the bright pink spot where Jimmy's lips had sucked her flesh was prominent. She thought of his lips sucking her pussy in that same way and she shivered all over. She put on stretch pants and a blouse with a Chinese neck to hide herself completely, before going back to the kitchen to start dinner.
When Jimmy came out of his room he talked boyishly to her as if the incident had never occurred. After dinner, he finished his homework before returning to the living room wanting to listen to more records.
Carol felt relieved that her reprimand had settled the problem. She retained a cool attitude and played a Beethoven symphony for him, explaining its structure and meaning and orchestral effects in a teacher-student rapport she found manageable and pleasing. But there was an insidiousness to it she didn't discover until later, when she was lying in bed. She had wanted for years to be able to teach Frank about her music. Tonight, she had taught Jimmy, and she had enjoyed doing it. She felt close to him again, but on a different plane-one that was deeper and more sincere. One that could, under the right circumstances and with the right person, turn innocently into love.
She slept fitfully, dreaming about Jim and Jimmy and Frank, until they were all muddled into one vague man she believed she was married to-the ideal man she loved.
By Tuesday night, Carol knew she was going to have to do something. She began thinking about Al, but the memory of his animal passions turned sour in her mind. She counted the days until Friday, when Frank would be back. She thought about him hard, planning the things she would do to try to make it right for them again. He was so much on her mind she gave no thought to going into Jimmy's room to help him with his homework for a minute.
Nothing happened. He concentrated on his problem and the solution she guided him toward, and that was the end of it. She walked out, feeling absolutely certain that the infatuation was over, that her will had prevailed.
Carol's desire for sex was strong when she went to bed, but she resisted it, refusing to bring herself to a climax again for fear that it would become a habit she would learn to prefer to Frank. There was another reason. She felt a certain power in being able to deny the needs of her pussy, which had led her into such turmoil in the past. It was like a small victory to be cherished.
By Wednesday night, however, Carol was smoldering inside like a toy furnace. She had gotten ready for bed early, not sure any longer if she could resist her own hand another night, but determined to try to sleep it off. She had taken off her clothes and showered and was ready to climb in when she heard Jimmy call her.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
He stood on the other side of the bedroom door. "Aw, I'm stuck on another problem, and this paper's going to be graded. Can you give me a hand with it?"
"I'll be out in a minute," she said.
Carol plucked a robe from the closet, the flannel one she used during cold snaps. She'd forgotten about the tear in the side, and she put it back, remembering how Frank liked to stick his hand through it and fondle her breast.
The thought made her tingle. She pondered what to wear before taking out her peignoir. It was clinging and nearly transparent, but she was sure there would be no problem now that she and Jimmy had an understanding. Blue filminess slid silkily about her shoulders and draped over the ends of her breasts, caressing them. She turned and looked at herself, feeling the material swirl between her thighs with a satin touch. She smiled at her image, seeing the sensual effect. She put thoughts of danger out of her mind, rationalizing instead that it would be a test for her to go before him dressed this way.
The idea was such a good one, she gave no thought to flunking.
6
As she walked toward Jimmy's room the cool air pressed the satiny material tightly about her breasts and thighs and cleft. She knocked on his door, which was closed, and heard him answer.
"I was just getting ready for bed," she said, walking in. "I hope this won't take long."
Jimmy stared at Carol. His gaze molded to her curves as tightly as the material wherever it touched.
Carol paused a moment. It wasn't only that Jimmy's mouth was hanging open and his eyeS sparkled with desire for her. He wore nothing but pajama bottoms that fit him loosely. She glanced at his broad, naked shoulders and solid arms and felt a stab of need in her womb.
Carol knew she should have turned and gone back out, but she smiled bravely and approached the bed, sitting on it the way she always did so that she could look over the desk with him. She couldn't stop herself from glancing into his lap and seeing that the fly of the pajamas gaped open in a loose fold. The sight of three blond tendrils nosing out of the gap made her breath suck in.
"It's this problem here," her nephew said, his voice strange. He couldn't keep his eyes from Carol's soft breasts, outlined clearly by the draped blue silk. "I sure have trouble with Logic."
She pretended to ignore him, leaning forward to look at the book. "What is it you don't understand?" she asked.
"They want you to tell if the promise is true or not. I don't think it is, do you?"
She glanced into his eyes. "Don't you mean premise?"
Jimmy laughed, showing his handsome teeth. "Yeah. That's what I meant." He swallowed hard.
Carol leaned closer to read, and her peignoir slipped, the slit opening to reveal the firm, luscious cone of one breast, white and smooth and tipped with pink. Jimmy stared at it and inhaled the sweet scent of the soap she'd used. She turned her eyes from the book and looked at his face, seeing the naked lust there.
He moved his legs in the chair, and Carol watched with mounting emotion as his penis lifted through the gap in the pajamas and grew straight and fast and hard until it pointed rigidly toward the ceiling.
The smooth, youthful head pulsed and throbbed before her eyes in naked search of a cunt. Carol closed her eyes and felt hot all over as she remembered the first time she'd seen Jim's prick reaching toward her. Her resolve began to melt before the flames of her desire, and she could feel herself growing weaker and weaker.
"Oh, God, Jimmy," she said softly.. "Don't.. . "
The back of his hand brushed her breast, sending fire raging through her body. "Aunt Carol.. . " he whispered.
"Don't do this to me, Jimmy, don't. Use your magazine and your hand and let me go back."
His hand was on her shoulder, rubbing across the satiny material, and he was eyeing the single button at her neck and the simple sash at her waist.
"You know about my fuck book," he said. "You've been in here, looking."
"Yes," she whispered, her lip quivering uncontrollably as he reached for the button that would release the gown from her shoulders and bare her body to her waist. "Yes, I saw it."
"Then you know what I've been dreaming of doing to you, Aunt Carol. Not just since I've been here. For years!"
She opened her eyes. Nothing had changed. His prick stood vibrantly from his lap, dancing back and forth with each beat of his heart as if alive.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I used to watch you when you came to visit us. There was a tiny hole in the wall between my closet and the room you always stayed in, one I made so that it looked like a nail hole in the wood paneling in your room. I used to sit in my closet and watch you undress and lift your tits in your hands and play with your butt in the mirror. You always slept in the nude, and I'd watch you crawl into bed with your pussy splitting wide open and pink, aiming right at my eye. I'd wish my cock would fit through that hole and that you'd come up and see it and like the looks of it and play with it. Then you'd get a thrill out of having an unknown cock sticking through the wall, and you'd suck on it real hard until I cried. Then you'd feel bad and handle it tenderly and lift your leg until your soft pussy split wide open. Then you'd press against the wall and fuck my prick all the way up inside you until we both came. Oh, Aunt Carol, I'd watch you and watch you and dream all those things until I beat my meat off five times."
"Oh, God!" she cried, standing quickly. "God, Jimmy, stop talking about it!"
She hurried toward the door, and he stopped her, his prick stiff along her belly, rubbing over the satin of her robe. His hands held her shoulders, and her breasts pushed up against his chest. She looked up fearfully and watched his head come down.
He kissed her passionately until she moaned in the back of her throat and tore her lips from his, panting raggedly, her body aflame.
"It's crazy, Jimmy! We can't do it! It's incest! I'm your aunt, don't you understand that?"
"I don't care! You don't care either, I can feel it in the way you tremble. You didn't care back when I was a little kid. You thought I wouldn't remember, but I do. I remember the things you used to do very well."
"You can't!" she cried, looking at him in horror. "You were only a baby!"
His forehead wrinkled, and then he smiled. "You mean you did something to me when I was a baby, too? Oh, Christ, let me fuck you, Aunt Carol!"
The button came undone in his hand, and the sash untied as he spread the halves of her robe. Carol's body burst forth in soft perfection, her nipples hard and red with passion. He stared at her beauty and moved his hand to her cunt, cupping it with the same aggressive firmness Jim had used on it so long ago.
His finger slid wetly inside before she knew what had happened, and she cried out with shock and sensation.
"Jim, stop! Let me go!"
His big hand cupped her ass and held her tightly as his finger wriggled inside her. He began moving her toward the bed, his palm slipping over the silky buttocks, his penis thrusting in and out of the folds of blue.
"Undo my string," he said, his voice husky, nearly commanding.
Carol hesitated, shivering, holding onto Jimmy's arms to keep from falling. Her passion was unbelievable to her. She knew there must be something she could do to stop it before he was in her. But the awful truth was that she didn't want to stop it-no more than she'd ever wanted to stop his father from fucking her to the top again and again.
"God, we can't!" she cried, sliding her hand toward his stomach. "We can't, Jimmy, we can't."
"Pull it!" he ordered.
Her fingers clenched into a tight ball. The ball shook apart and became fingers. They reached, trembling, for the string of his pajamas and pulled. The material slid down Jimmy's thighs, and he stepped out of it. His cock was free and eager, his balls drawn up tightly.
Carol's hands went automatically to his buttocks and squeezed the muscular flesh tightly. She trembled against him and pressed her lips to his shoulder.
"All right!" she cried. "Do it-do it! Fuck me! God, I can't stand it any more, fuck me!"
She fell back onto the bed, feeling the silky robe beneath her back and buttocks. Her thighs spread wide. She held his solid, eager prick in her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and guided it to her hole, feeling the wetness from her pussy on the backs of her hands.
The head entered her, and she gasped with the sensation of it. Then the long, satiny slide of the shaft went far back into her body, and she lifted to take it fully.
"Oh, Jesus!" Jimmy squeaked, his voice gone high.
He attacked her pussy ferociously, pumping in and out with vigor, rolling his hips, clenching his buttocks together so tightly they slapped. His balls beat at her anus, and his chest flattened her bloated tits.
Carol was a writhing mass of desire. She thought he'd gone mad the way he was pounding up and down on her, driving his prick in and out of her hole, touching every possible nerve in her vaginal sheath. His vigorous attack left her breathless and thrilled, and she opened her cunt for him all the way, taking everything he could drive into it. She clamped her arms around his back and squeezed him tightly to her, lifting up to meet him on every wild stroke.
"Jim!" she cried. "Darling, Jim!"
"I'm coming, Aunt Carol!"
"Yes! Together, yes-the way we always . . . oh, my God!"
Consciousness was wrenched from her. Colors swirled in her mind in explosive patterns as one sensation spasm after another drove Carol toward a state of delirium. Her hips lifted off the bed, and her pussy shook violently against him, sucking on his orgasming root as his sperm flooded into her in jet after jet of thick passion.
Carol felt as if she were floating in space, tumbling and spinning slowly as another series of spasms batted her body to and fro. After what seemed an eternity of splendor, she slid slowly back to consciousness, the room rocking gently in her senses.
She lay beneath Jimmy and gasped for breath. His puffs of breath roared in her ear. The horror of what they'd done rushed toward her and fizzled, and she hugged him tightly to her chest, her eyes closed, making her mind refuse to think.
After a long time, he spoke. "You don't know how long I've dreamed of that, Aunt Carol."
"Was it as good as you'd expected?"
"Better. Honest to God, it was better." He smiled happily and kissed her lips lightly. "Was it good for you?"
"Yes."
"As good as it was with Dad?"
"Yes, Jimmy," she said. She felt peculiar and frowned suddenly. "Oh, don't talk, don't talk."
"I don't feel ashamed. Please, don't you. It was good. We wanted each other, for whatever reasons, and it was good. You can't get pregnant, can you?"
"No."
"Then what's the harm? I don't have a girl, and your husband doesn't give you enough attention. We already know each other-maybe better than either of us realizes. It's been the most intimate time of my life, and that isn't bad, is it?"
"I don't know, Jimmy," she said, putting her hand to her mouth to choke back a sudden sob. "It seemed all right so many years ago, but there's something different now."
"Then you remember the times I was talking about? The times you'd bounce "me on your knee and put your hand over my crotch? The times you wanted me to suckle your tit, even though there wasn't any milk in it?"
She looked back at him and smiled. "No," she said. "There's only one time I remember. You frightened me when you told me about looking through the wall and dreaming that I would suck you until you cried."
"Why?"
"Because I did that once."
"Really?"
"You were less than a year old. I was baby-sitting. I'd just given you a bath, and I wanted to . . . I wanted your father. I was still jealous. You were the nearest I had to him, and I sucked your little penis into my mouth. You started crying and bawling your head off and scared me silly."
"I wouldn't do that now."
"You're not the same size, either." She smiled and chuckled lightly.
"Will you do that to me again?"
She looked long and hard into his eyes. "No, Jimmy," she said finally. "This is it. We've done it, and it was good, but there can't be any more. Even if I weren't your aunt, I'm still a married woman."
"You mean you've never stepped out on Uncle Frank before?"
She looked away. "No. Of course not." She felt his eyes on her, and she knew she hadn't convinced him. She was glad he didn't question her any further. "You'd better get off now." She pushed at him gently.
"I don't want to," he said, pleading with her. "You must, Jimmy."
He looked at her and didn't press it. He rose slowly, drawing his heavy penis out of her. It shone wetly in the light, and he stared at her, stopping halfway.
"Look down," he said. "It's just like my pictures."
She lifted her head. Her pussy was wide and tight around his shaft. She placed her hands on his hips and pushed. It went out the rest of the way, and his prick bobbed up.
"I'm still hard," he said.
"You'll have to use your hand and your magazine, then."
"Will you watch me? That would make me excited."
She looked at him. "I might."
"What about some other night-could I watch you?"
"No."
He stood beside the bed, looking at her. "You're beautiful," he said simply, nearly with the innocence of a child.
She pulled her blue silk around her and got up, going into his bathroom for a washcloth. She put it between her thighs and dabbed at the sperm that ran out. Jimmy stood in the doorway and watched her with hungry eyes, his penis still half stiff and bowing out from his loins. He put his hand on it and slid it up and down.
"I'll do it right now, if you want to watch. I'm still awfully hot."
She put the washcloth down and dropped the hem of her robe. "No," she said. She stood in front of Jimmy wanting past, and he put his hands on her shoulders. She sensed he was going to plead with her for another round, but he didn't.
"Good night, Aunt Carol," he said gently.
"Good night, Jimmy."
"I wish my bed were bigger so we could sleep together. I wouldn't do anything if you didn't want me to."
"That would be sweet, Jimmy," she said. She reached up and patted his cheek and gave him a quick kiss. Then she left his room and went to her own, not looking back for fear the sight of his youthful erection would make her want to stay.
She lay in bed and went over it in her mind. Guilt came and made her feel terrible. She hung onto the guilt as long as she could, and then it went away, leaving her naked and unprotected. She didn't understand her feelings. She wasn't sure she wanted to understand them. There was none of the sordidness she'd felt with Al, and she was glad for that.
She rolled over onto her side, feeling her body hum with the after-tingles of her release. She tried to despise herself, but that wouldn't come, either. She thought it strange. A brief feeling of guilt, and that was all. Perhaps it was because she had her Jim back again, and that made everything all right.
Carol closed her. eyes and wondered if he were in there staring at the pictures in his book, fisting another load of sperm from his prick. A thrill ran through her at the thought of watching him do it, the way he'd suggested. It would be harmless. It would be as if he were a child again, washing himself in the bathtub or wiping his butt while she watched. She had watched him touch himself before, and it would be harmless. But she was afraid it wouldn't stay that way.
She put her hands between her drawn-up thighs and sighed deeply and slid into a deep, contented sleep, a wicked woman with no remorse. That came the next day, when she woke up and faced her nephew over breakfast.
7
Nothing was said directly about the night before. Jimmy approached her once with a look that said he wanted to hold her and kiss her, but she veered away and thrust a piece of hot toast in his hands. He studied her a moment, then took the hint, and the strain of silence grew tight.
Carol watched him leave for school and felt a great load being lifted higher from her with each step away from the house. Her fingers shook, and her heart pounded, and she wondered how she could have done it. In the bright, hot light of day, the concept of incest became too horrid to contemplate-worse by far than mere infidelity, even when colored by sordidness. She vowed emphatically it would not happen again, and the sincerity held until the phone rang.
"Hiya, baby," the coarse voice grated.
"Who is this?" she asked.
"Aw, don't gimme a bunch of crap like that. Where the hell were you last week? I told you I had a surprise for you, remember? You missed a good thing, baby."
"Al! . . . "she gasped.
He chuckled thickly, and the sound made her skin prickle. "Yeah, that's right. Don't tell me you didn't recognize my voice. If I coulda shoved my dick over the phone, I bet you'd have recognized that, huh, baby?" He laughed thickly again.
"What are you doing, calling my house? How dare you!"
"Aw, don't gimme that shit. Nobody's there, and I know it. I just wanted to be sure you were, get me? You coming tonight?"
"No! I told you last time was the end, and I meant it."
He chuckled, and she could see his thick lips go wet with saliva. "Got yourself a new cock, huh? Wouldn't be that kid I saw walking outa there this morning, would it? That's pretty cozy, baby, shacking up with a college kid while the professor's away."
"You beast!" she gasped, feeling a cold lead weight sink to the pit of her stomach at the thought of his surveillance.
"Yeah," he laughed. "Well, I got a name for broads who stand me up, too, so I thought I'd come around and take a look-see. Young bods are nice for a change of pace, baby, but they don't hold a candle to experience. You found that out yet? Maybe a quick comparison will get the message across. A cock that knows how to fuck you up the wall is better than the kind you gotta teach, right? You come tonight, hear?"
"No, Al-I'm not coming tonight or ever again."
"Suit yourself, baby," he said after a moment's pause. He hung up.
Carol put the receiver down and felt sweat tickle her armpit. The sound of the grating voice brought memories rushing back to her mind-vile ones, depraved ones. She wandered through the house remembering them, comparing them unconsciously to the tender, understanding act last night with Jimmy. She whirled and froze when, about three minutes later, the front door opened and closed, and she saw Al standing in her house grinning lewdly at her.
"Oh, God!" she cried.
He came toward her, stripping his tie off, glancing around the interior appreciatively. He came straight up to her and held her shoulders.
"The professor does all right," he said. He looked at her. "Don't look so shocked, like you're going to get raped or something. I was only a couple blocks away when I called. I got in early-last night. I just had to find out what kind of setup the professor's got that he don't know how to keep it to himself. And I thought-in case your memory's slipped a little or something-I'd come along and prod it a little with my big dick. The memory and the pussy." He laughed again. "But it ain't gonna be rape, because when we get started, you'll be begging for it. Up the wall, baby, remember?" He glanced around. "Where at-here? Or the professor's bed."
"Al, get out," Carol said desperately. "Please leave me alone."
Al undid the buttons of her blouse and pulled the halves apart, watching the rapid surge of her breasts with her harsh breathing.
"Man, I dreamed about these tits last night. I dreamed about that tight cunt and them puffy pussy lips until I was ready to beat it off like a fucking kid. Now you wouldn't turn out a man as horny as that?"
He flipped the blouse from Carol's shoulders and yanked her closer by the waistband of her stretch pants, his stubby fingers working on the fastenings. Carol whimpered in protest, but she felt powerless before him. The old response of animal passion began stirring in her womb, as if it came automatically now, and she cursed the betrayal by her body.
Al's hand smoothed out and cupped her cunt. His fingers worked her lips back and forth until they were wet. His black eyes glinted with triumph as he pushed her pants and panties down her thighs and his fingers left wet trails along her flesh.
"Still as ready and sloppy as ever, baby," he grated, grinning. "Why don't you quit fighting it, huh?"
"All right," she gasped, knowing there was no choice. Not only could Al force her if she resisted, but her body was raging again. He knew just what buttons to push, what areas to touch, to turn her on. Carol staggered under the burden of self-loathing toward the bedroom and lay on her back on top of it. She spread her thighs and looked away while Al took off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. She waited, limp with defeat, for him to take her in his vile way.
"Come on, baby, don't look so glum. Get a little spark in that cunt."
"Hurry up and do it," she said coldly.
He sat on the edge of the bed and put his big hand over her mound, flexing his fingers rhythmically until one popped inside. Carol tightened up with the invasion into her tunnel and couldn't stop a moan.
"That's better," he grinned. "Listen, I'll give you a preview of my surprise. That'll heat you up." He drew his finger from her cunt and slid it under her crotch to her anus. It popped wetly inside, and he leaned closer to suck her tit. "I'm gonna fuck your asshole," he whispered crudely. "That drives 'em up the wall."
"God damn you," she swore flatly, hearing his thick chuckle.
The door was open. There was no mistaking the sound of Jimmy's voice. "Aunt Carol, where are you?"
"Oh, God!" she whispered hoarsely, springing up. "Get out of here, you dirty bastard!" she hissed at Al.
He looked stunned for a moment, then pushed her flat again. "Cool it, baby. Your clothes and my tie are out there, so it's no good pretending." He chuckled again. "Aunt Carol, huh?" He grinned lewdly. "So that's your new cock. And you feel rotten with me. Jesus Christ."
"He can't see you here, Al!"
"Shit. He gives me any trouble, and I'll bloody his nose." He raised his voice. "In here, kid," he grated. "Come join the party."
Jimmy appeared in the doorway, and his mouth fell open. He gawked from Carol's naked body she was twisting up in an effort to hide to Al's stiff, hairy cock that was drooling along her thigh.
"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded.
"Friend of your aunt's," Al grinned.
"Jimmy, he forced his way in!" Carol cried, struggling against Al's hand. "This isn't what you think it is!"
"All right, mister-let her up and get out," Jimmy said, putting down his books and puffing up his broad chest.
"Aw, don't be a punk, or I'll pound your face," Al grated. "Pull your prick out and join the party. Don't ge a sap, kid, this is nice stuff. You take one end, and I'll take the other. She loves it."
Carol reached out and slapped his fat-lipped, ugly mouth and screamed at him. "Get out, you vile beast!"
Al jerked back, looked at her, and brought the flat of his hand down over her belly in a resounding swat that stung fire to her eyes.
"Don't get wise, baby, I hit back." He stood menacingly. "Make up your mind, kid, before I throw you out. You want some ass, or don't you? Parties are a real ball, believe me."
"Jimmy, get rid of this animal!" Carol cried.
"You heard her, mister."
"Shee-it. All right, punk, beat it while auntie and I get down to business." He moved forward, thick and hairy as a bear.
Jimmy rushed him, pushing against the wire-covered chest with his hands, making him reel backward into a wall. He moved in athletically, grabbed Al's flailing arm, and, putting his broad back and muscular thighs into it, swung Al around into the next wall solidly. Then he crouched and waited for the chance to tear him apart.
Al shook the tears of pain from his eyes and reassessed the kid in front of him. He had youth and agility and a stronger set of muscles than Al had figured on his side. It would be a hell of a tough fight, and his nuts were exposed and vulnerable.
"All right, kid, cool it," he grated finally. "We can see how this turns out some other time-maybe next week. After I've seen my clients."
"You come around here again, mister, and you're dead," Jimmy said.
Al snorted derisively and reached slowly for his pants. He pulled them on and glanced at Carol, grinning lewdly. "At least I got her warmed up for you, kid. You ain't tried that yet, you should. It's nice."
Carol twisted and buried her face in her hands with shame. She didn't see Jimmy lead Al out of the house, but she heard them snarling threats at each other. The next thing she knew, Jimmy was beside her on the bed, comforting her with his gentle hands, and she turned to him and hugged him tightly, sobbing.
"Oh God, Jim, I'm sorry," she cried. "I didn't want you to know. He's a beast-a vile animal. I never wanted him. I went to him because there was no one else until you came. Jim, hold me, darling, hold me!"
Her mind spun with emotion as she went down onto her back. She hadn't wanted it to happen, but the moment the boy's prick slid into her body again, she clutched his back tightly and rose up to meet him, fucking his youthful body with abandon.
It lasted longer this time. It was more controlled and rhythmic. She locked her heels around his ass and rocked back and forth, milking his cock with her tight pussy in gratefulness for the way he had saved her from Al's depravity. She wanted it now.
She wanted him to come in her and flood her pussy and take her as often as his energetic cock could stand it. She owed him that and so much more, and what was the reason if she didn't enjoy it herself?
"Jim, now!" she cried, shaking against him.
He pressed down tightly and exploded inside her, sending shock after shock of spasming waves through her body. She held him tightly, lovingly, for a long time, and she knew that there was no use in pretending any more. Whatever shame there was in what they did, it was nothing to the shame she felt over Al.
She didn't stop him from putting his arm around her when they got up and went into the other room. She gathered up her clothes, remembered, and reached up to kiss him warmly, feeling her breasts flatten against his broad chest and his organ lift tentatively between her thighs.
"I couldn't stand it at school," he said. "Everything was so cold when I left, I had to come back and make it right."
"You don't know how right you made it, Jimmy," she said. She kissed him again, and he watched her get dressed. "I guess you know you've broken my will now. I can't refuse you any more."
He smiled handsomely. "I was hoping that. That's why I didn't beat my meat last night after you left. It was agony for me, remembering the feel and smell of you. I nearly got up and came to your bed."
"You may tonight. There's no reason left not to."
"I'm getting stiff again, just talking about it-look."
She patted his rising prick. "Save it for tonight, Jimmy," she said. "I'm going to finish that sucking I started eighteen years ago."
His cock jerked to full erection, and they both laughed and hugged.
Carol made him go back to the rest of his classes.
She was like a new bride setting the dinner table with candles and wine for his return from school. After dinner, they played records and she read him some of her favorite poetry, until neither one of them could stand the waiting any more and ran hand in hand to her bedroom. She made him lie on his back, and she got over his hips and lowered her head.
"I promised you this," she said.
"Give me your pussy-I want to suck on it at the same time."
She laughed and slid her hand up and down his youthful, smooth shaft, cupping his balls in her palm.
"I said I was going to finish what I started. Then I'll be good and soaking for you to do anything you want."
Carol pursed her lips and kissed the velvety tip. Her tongue snaked out and licked the shaft. She heard Jimmy moan and felt him buck. She smiled happily and opened her mouth and slid it down over his cock, taking the seeping stem into her and sucking on it with her lips and tongue. Carol drew hard, remembering the other time. She licked and squeezed him, thinking how often Jim had wanted her to do this to him. Well now, in a way, she was finally giving him what he'd wanted.
Jimmy's balls drew up in her hand. His fingers tangled in her hair, and his hips swiveled under her face. She sucked on his eager stem as if it were a straw and drew the sweet syrup up through it in a rapid flow, tasting it in her mouth, swallowing it with reflexive jerks of her throat.
Sensation whipped through Carol until she was dizzy. She didn't see how she could be any happier than she was at the moment. Jim was back. He would sleep with her the way they'd always wanted to sleep together. She had sucked his beautiful, sperm-filled prick the way he'd always wanted her to. The nineteen years became no more than a wisp of time between memory and now, and she hugged the shuddering hips beneath her and pulled the founting, squirting cock of her lover as deeply into her throat as she could.
"God, oh God!" she cried happily, kissing his smooth belly all over.
"Aunt Carol, come up. I want to eat your beautiful, wonderful pussy before I fuck it until we're both blind."
Carol moved then, sitting on Jimmy's chest, spreading her thighs shamelessly wide before his eyes. He stared into her pink, watering depths and licked his lips with lust. Then his big hands held her buttocks and pulled her forward. He grinned and clicked his teeth in playful threat, making her laugh. His tongue flicked out and ran up her satiny cleft, sipping the dew from it until she moaned and tangled her fingers in his shaggy hair.
"Oh, Jim," she cried. "Oh, darling, yes-I'd forgotten how beautifully you sucked my pussy."
His whole mouth covered her twat and drew in, bloating her tissues, making her tunnel spasm all along its syrupy length. He licked at her furiously, pausing when Carol got too hot and rolled her hips around, then attacking her again, eating her from the top of her cleft to the bottom and underneath to her anus for a quick, exciting circle around her hole.
Carol put her hands to her pussy and drew the lips aside, exposing her clit fully, making it stand out for Jimmy's tongue and rounded lips. He centered on it and sucked, flicking and rolling the tight, quaking ball of nerves until her orgasm swept over her in a blinding rush that made her yell uncontrollably and nearly wet his face.
While she was still coming, Jimmy rolled her onto her back and spread her thighs and stuffed his ready prick into her and stroked her to another orgasm and still a third, when he exploded inside her himself.
They lay gasping for a long time. He got up and turned off the light and came back to bed, cuddling her tenderly. Carol snuggled into his embrace and smiled with contentment, feeling she was married to Jim at last.
Like a new bride, she awoke in the middle of the night and crawled atop him, stuffing his sleepy penis into her hole. She fucked up and down on him until he was stiff and ready, and she felt her ass go wild, swiveling and jerking around and bumping up and down under the cupping palms of his big hands.
She came again, shaking and shuddering. She felt his sperm flow up into her body and then drain back down when they stayed locked together, and his cock went limp. After that, she slept long and hard until he kissed her awake.
"Good morning," Jimmy said lazily, stretching beside her.
Carol's hand went over his chest. She looked at the side of his face for a moment waiting for the guilt and shame to rush back in. They didn't come. She reached up and kissed Jimmy and his hand covered her silky back, sliding down to the firmness of her buttocks to squeeze them.
Wordlessly, she crawled over him and spread her thighs around his lifting prick. "You can't go to school without your morning exercise," she said.
He rolled her over and mounted her, sliding deeply into her sodden cunt. "I like mine this way," he said.
She held him until she felt his balls rest along the bottom of her crotch. Then she began slow, lazy movements with her hips.
"You're not worn out, are you?" she chided.
Jimmy kissed her and pumped up and down, increasing his speed as their passion built. After a deliciously long time, they came together, their orgasms oozing out from inside in an unhasty blending of their happiness.
Jimmy came out of the shower, drying himself. "Uncle Frank's going to come home tonight," he said dispiritedly. "I wish he wouldn't. I wish you didn't have to sleep with him. Isn't there some way?"
Carol laughed gently and hugged the boy. "You know that's impossible, Jimmy. He's my husband. You knew that before we started."
"I still feel jealous. I don't know how I can go a whole weekend without fucking you again. Not after this."
"Don't think of the weekend, Jimmy. Think of the week after it, when he's gone. It'll be just the two of us. You'll get more than he will. Why should you be jealous of that?"
He grinned at her. "I hadn't thought of it that way."
"Maybe . . . " she started. "No, that would be too risky."
He looked at her. "Not as soundly as he sleeps."
She touched his arm. "We'll see," she said, going into the shower.
She stood under the spray and soaped her body. It tingled all over. She felt funny inside, but it wasn't from that.
8
Frank greeted her with unusual enthusiasm.
"Come on, honey, turn off the kitchen and get your hat. I'm taking you out to dinner."
"Frank!" she cried. "What's happened? The roast is all ready, and I'm not dressed to go out!"
"Wrap it up and put it in the refrigerator, and we'll eat it cold. And you look fine just the way you are. Come on, don't make trouble."
He pulled her out the door within fifteen minutes and took her to a place in Ft. Lauderdale that had thick steaks and soft lights and a cozy atmosphere.
"My God, I've never seen you with so much energy on a Friday night," Carol laughed, leaning toward him. The rum felt good and warm inside her. It was changing her outlook on things.
"I gave Mac the business," he said proudly.
"What do you mean, darling? What did you do?"
"I told him I was going to quit."
"Frank! You didn't!"
"I said I told him I would-if he didn't see that I got what I wanted. The divers ran out a day early because we couldn't fit another tank on board, and only half the other stuff got done because of equipment shortage. I decided I was tired of beating my goddamn brains out during the week and weekends too, and I told him if I didn't get the necessary supplies and the seaplane and passage for you, I was quitting. He could answer to Washington about it and then see what kind of funds his department got after that."
"Oh, Frank! . . . " Carol cried.
A mixture of emotions went through her. She was happy that he'd finally stood up for his rights and told Mac where to get off. She knew that would be all to the good. But the thought of her going to the cay with him now. . . after Jimmy . . .
"Darling . . . when is all this going to happen?"
"Monday," he said emphatically. "The seaplane's all lined up. The gear will be available, and you get to pack your bags. God damn, Carol-after last weekend, I just won't do it to you any more." He peered at her. "What's the matter? Aren't you happy? Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Well, yes-of course it is, Frank, but . . . "
"But what?" he asked.
"Darling, that was two weeks ago."
"So what?"
"Things are different now."
"What the hell-different how."
"We've got Jimmy now."
"So what?"
"Well, I've got to stay and look after him, darling."
"Come on," he said impatiently. "Look after him how?"
"Cook and do his clothes and keep the house cleaned up."
"Oh Christ," he swore. "He's old enough to do all that by himself. That's ridiculous, Carol."
"But that was the agreement we made."
"The hell with that. You made one with me."
"Besides, Frank, you know what boys his age are apt to do when they have a house all to themselves. We can't risk having him running loose in it. Think of our personal things-your papers and tax records and such. And my music. One wild party, darling, and it could all be ruined, you know that. Think of the house itself. What if he has someone over and they take drugs and someone falls into the pool and drowns." She put her hand to her face. "Darling, it would be a terrible mess, and you know it. I'm sorry, sweetie, but I just can't leave him there alone. Two weeks ago, Frank . . . but not now."
"Then we'll kick him out, damn it," he said heatedly. "I'm damned if he's going to mess up my plans on the basis of what might happen."
She put her hand on his arm. "You can't just kick him out, darling. You said that yourself when you were arguing with me, remember? I told you I didn't want him around, but it's too late to change that now."
"The hell it is. I'll get a room for him somewhere else. I'll pay for it myself. I insist that you come with me. Honey, I'll look like an ass if you don't come through for me."
He was pleading with her now. She looked at him and felt sorry for him. Sorry and proud at the same time. He'd finally gotten up the nerve to confront Mac, and now she was undermining him. She twisted the drink around and around in front of her and knew that her duty lay with him, no matter what she felt for Jimmy. Yet she couldn't give up the happiness she had just found.
"Frank, I have to think about it," she said finally.
"Christ," he swore again.
Their order came. The steak was thick and juicy and pink inside, but it tasted flat in her mouth. She looked across at him and tried to make light conversation, but he had withdrawn from her. She felt guilty. It was her fault this time.
When they went home to bed, he was rough with her. He stabbed his penis into her body as if thrusting a knife into her for what she'd done to him. He came explosively, using her cunt as a receptacle for his discharge and nothing more. She didn't blame him. She knew she deserved it.
Long after Frank was asleep, she got up and stole out of the bedroom. She sat on the edge of Jimmy's bed and woke him. He reached up for her eagerly, and she felt his hands cup her breasts and spark fire into her body. She made him wait, wanting to tell him of the decision she had to make, but then couldn't bring herself to do it. She collapsed into his arms and let him roll on top of her to fuck his cock into her pussy again. The comparison of his tenderness with Frank's rough handling of her was immediate and clear. She melted under him and opened her thighs wide for him, hugging him to her, knowing she wouldn't leave him, no matter what it did to her and Frank.
He came quickly and didn't stop, riding in and out of her until she lifted and whimpered and exploded hard. Then she stayed with him until he deposited another youthful, vigorous load inside her. She accepted it happily and lay with him until he was asleep. Then she extricated herself from the small, crowded bed and crept back into her bedroom. Frank's voice scared her so much she yelped.
"What have you been doing?" he asked, his voice gruff.
"I . . . I couldn't sleep," she said. "I got up and took a pill."
The silence between them was long and thick, and her heart pounded in her chest. Now he knew. He surely knew.
"Come here, honey," he said finally.
She went to the bed, and he reached up and hugged her hips to his face. She stiffened and held back, afraid he would smell her pussy.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you tonight. I was all wound up. I was so damn looking forward to your coming with me, it stunned me when you said all that about Jimmy." He sighed heavily. "You're right, of course. We both know he's been a wild kid. It's too bad your sister didn't marry that guy and let him put a board across Jimmy's butt when he needed it. Then maybe we could trust him."
She cupped the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair, glad for the darkness.
"I've been thinking too, Frank," she said. "The thing to do is to get him a room. But we can't do it overnight. I'll find something for him this week. Then we can go together the week after that." She sighed deeply. "It's only one more week with him," she said, thinking of it in a different way than he was. It was the only thing she could do. She would have to explain to Jimmy. A week more was better than nothing.
"That sounds fair enough," he said. "Come on to bed, now, and let's make up."
She crawled in beside him and felt him lift the hem of her nightie. His face went down her stomach, and she stopped him quickly before he reached her sodden cunt.
"Frank, no-don't do that to me tonight. I want you in me."
He smiled through the darkness. "At least you want me. I was beginning to wonder about that." He settled his hips between her thighs.
"You silly man," she said, choking back a sob. "Of course I want you. Oh-oh, darling, yes, that feels much better. You were so rough before."
"You blew a big load into me," she said quickly. "I like it when it's wet anyway. It's so slick and-oh, Frank, hold me. Please!"
He came down on her and held her tightly. She burrowed her face in his shoulder and tried with all her will to come once more. Incredibly, she felt herself lifting to him, her passion rising. She pictured Jimmy in her mind and didn't feel guilt. He would be out of her thoughts and pussy soon enough. She hugged the body over her and let her throat express her passion as she cried out and came with him.
"Hello, is Jimmy there?"
Carol looked at the phone and listened to the girl's voice on the other end. She glanced through the window and saw Jimmy diving into the pool again, casting a long, morning shadow over the smooth surface of the water. The voice was smooth as a kitten's purr, sultry, sensual as the girl on the other end must be.
"Who's calling, please?" Carol asked guardedly, feeling an unexplainable streak of jealousy go through her.
"Just a friend," the girl said. "Is he there? He said he would be."
She had no choice. "Just a moment, please." She called out the door and watched him come rising out of the pool, dripping wet. She handed him the receiver. He took the long cord out as far as it would go and looked at her, not answering until she went back in. She watched him through the window, noticing the way he cupped the receiver and got that lover's look on his face. She felt insanely jealous, then let the emotion subside. She went into the other room so she wouldn't have to watch him. After a long time, Jimmy came into the house and went into his room. Frank called her, just at the wrong moment, and she went in to him, kissing him mechanically when he reached up for her. When she went out and into the kitchen to take him a beer, Jimmy's room was empty. She looked around for him and didn't see him, and she knew he was gone.
The rest of the day dragged. She kept waiting for him to come back. She watched the news, seeing none of it this time. Frank sat down at the dinner table and stretched, then looked at the empty place.
"Where's Jimmy?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"Does he have a date or something."
"I think so. A girl called him."
"That's good."
She awoke at three in the morning and saw a light under the door. She heard him walking around in the kitchen. She was ready to get up and go question him when the light went off. She lay back in bed and wrinkled her forehead and tossed most of the night, feeling very strange inside.
He was gone all day Sunday, having left before either she or Frank got up.
"Frank, I'm a little worried," she said.
"Oh, he's probably got hold of a live one. You remember how it was at that age, don't you?"
"Yes," she said softly. "I remember. Still, he ought to call."
"Did you say anything about his having to move out? Maybe he's upset over that. Better yet, maybe he's out looking for a place to stay."
"No," she said. "I haven't said a word-not even a hint."
"Well, he'll show up."
She couldn't wait for Frank to leave Monday morning. He went early because he had to make arrangements for the new gear and see it all on board. Carol went into Jimmy's room without knocking and caught him standing in his briefs. His genitals were packed tightly into them, and she ran her eyes over the bulge before looking at his face.
"Where have you been all weekend?" she demanded.
He smiled handsomely, trying to blind her again. "I was just staying out of everybody's way," he said easily. He walked toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged out of his grasp. "Honest, Aunt Carol," he said earnestly, "I just couldn't stick around and see you having to be with him. Not after Friday night when you came to my room and I knew you'd been with him, taking his prick in you, letting him shoot his wad where mine belonged."
She searched his face for a moment before she leaned against the door and smiled at him. "And I thought I was the only one who was getting jealous." She decided to break the news to him later, after she'd found the room and everything was all arranged. "You poor boy, I didn't realize how hard it must be on you." She let him pull her into his arms, and she cupped his pouch in her hand, feeling the meat there swell.
"You're going to start something," he warned, grinning.
"That's all right. Your girl friend can take care of it for you, can't she? Now that you've found someone to take old Aunt Carol's place."
He smiled prettily and succeeded in dazzling her eyes. "Who, Vera? Is that what you meant when you said you were jealous?"
"She sounded sexy as can be over the telephone. Tell me, big stud, how does she compare with me? Is that any way to show your thanks?"
"You had another guy," he said. "Two of them, even. Isn't that fair?"
She looked down. "Yes, I suppose it is. But where does that leave us?" She felt very strange asking him that.
"The same," he said. "You've nothing to worry about. I'll bring her over tonight, and you can see for yourself."
Carol eyed Jimmy a moment. "All right. I'll accept the challenge."
Vera had raven hair that was glossy and long, swirling about her shoulders to frame the golden skin of her face. Her eyes were dark and mysterious, slanted slightly to add an exotic touch. Her lips were red, sensual, and full, and they parted when she stood before Carol and smiled and let her soft eyes roam slowly, caressingly, up and down Carol's body. Her own body was small and slim, her breasts firm, her buttocks round. The mini barely covered her pussy and the undercurves of her ass.
"She's very pretty, Jimmy," Vera purred in her silky voice. "I can't blame you for wanting to stay here."
Carol shot a quick look at Jimmy and saw him staring at her with heat in his eyes and the pearly smile on his face.
Vera sat in a chair with fluid grace and crossed her slender thighs. "I won't tell anyone, Carol," she purred. "I think it's wonderful. Strange kinds of sex excite me and make me want to do things." She looked at Carol full on and uncrossed her thighs. Her mini slid back and revealed the flattened lips of her pussy under the panty hose. Dark curls poked through the nylon mesh.
"Jimmy, you didn't!" Carol gasped.
He smiled at Carol and pulled his aunt into his lap, fondling her breast openly. Her thighs were across his, pointed toward Vera, and she kept them closed. She tugged at the hem of her own mini, glad, at least, that she was wearing panties.
"Vera's a swinger, Aunt Carol," Jimmy said. "There can't be anything she hasn't done or doesn't want to do. Anything at all. I knew you would want to meet her, after seeing you with that guy who was here."
"What does he have to do with anything?" Carol demanded, removing Jimmy's hand from her breast. He put it on her thigh and slid it upward with a gentle, lust-whetting touch. She saw Vera watching its progress while she licked her lips.
"It told me you could be a swinger too, Aunt Carol, given a chance."
She fought with his hand. "I don't like this, Jimmy," she said.
Jimmy reached into his pocket and brought out a lighter. He showed it to her. Al's initials were on it. He smiled fully at her.
"I have his tie, too, with his name tag in it. And I made sure he left a set of prints somewhere where they won't get washed off-just in case anyone has to prove he was here, know what I mean?"
She looked at him and felt the blood drain from her face. She saw it all. "You wouldn't tell him, Jimmy-you wouldn't!"
He put the lighter back. "Not unless I had to," he said. His hand went to her thigh again and pushed the hem of her dress back. "Now why don't we stop all this stuff and start having fun. That's what we're all here for, isn't it?" His palm slicked over the. nylon of her panties, and Vera leaned forward hungrily, her soft breasts bulging over her forearm. Carol could feel Jimmy's penis lifting up under her buttocks.
"Oh, God," she said softly. "I thought-I thought you . . . "
"Sure, I love you," he said. "You're my aunt. Every kid does that."
He held her waist in his big hands and turned her around so that her buttocks were against his abdomen and her thighs were on top of his. He held her in place with his hands covering her breasts, kneading the soft flesh, making her respond to him whether she wanted to or not.
"Come on, Vera," he said. "Fix us up." He kissed the side of Carol's neck. "This will be better than my fuck book," he said. "Vera's lips are the softest you've ever felt."
"Jimmy, don't do this," Carol pleaded, panting slightly. She watched the feline movement of the exotic girl as Vera got out of her chair and began stripping off her clothes. The dress went down, and she was wearing no bra. Her breasts were high and tight and had big nipples. She stripped out of her panty hose, moving smoothly, sensually, revealing her small-gapped pussy inch by inch. In spite of herself, Carol watched, feeling the same kind of fascination for what was happening that she'd felt when she was with Al. It was base, perverted-but it excited her all the same.
Vera stood with her dark-muffed pussy in front of Carol's face.
Carol inhaled the healthy animal aroma of it and felt her senses go mad with desire for sex. Vera's fingertips pried her labia apart, and she pushed her pelvis toward Jimmy's mouth.
"Kiss it, honey," she purred. "Get me good and ready and hot. Your aunt is so pretty, I want to blow my mind on her."
Carol watched incredulously as Jimmy leaned to the side and pushed his face and lips into Vera's muff. The tip of his tongue licked Vera's slit up and down, and the aroma of sex filled her senses. Vera's exotic eyes closed, and she moaned, squeezing her breasts into elongated cones with her hands. In a moment, she bent forward and offered the tip of one to Carol's lips.
"Come on, honey, suck it. It's sweet and soft."
The nipple brushed Carol's lips. She felt her lips part uncontrollably, the way they'd parted for Al's filthy cock the last time. The breast flesh pushed into her mouth, and then she was sucking on it greedily, as if she were a baby. She heard Jimmy moan with pleasure.
"That's it, Aunt Carol. That's the way you used to make me suck your tits, remember." He reached around the side of her hip and ran his fingers up and down the front of her panties, tickling her through the nylon until her butt squirmed in his lap and her fires were ignited.
The breast left her mouth, and a silky bush replaced it. The odor of sex was strong and a mouth of slack, slippery tissue covering her lips. She ran her tongue into the groove Jimmy's had been in, and she licked Vera's pussy. Both women moaned with mounting excitement.
Vera pulled back and knelt at the foot of the chair, working her slim, feline body between both pairs of thighs. Her fingertips trailed erotically along Carol's thighs to the growing spot of dampness at the mouth of her pussy. The fingers wrapped around the elastic top of her panties and tugged.
Carol knew what she was supposed to do. She lifted her buttocks from Jimmy's lap and leaned against him, moaning. His hands caressed her breasts while other hands slid her panties from her buttocks and thighs. She felt Jimmy's pants sliding down his legs with his briefs, and she looked down to see his cock jutting up between her thighs, as if it were her own.
"Touch it, Carol-play with it," Vera said.
Carol's hand wrapped around the firm length of flesh. It slid up and down. Jimmy moaned and undid the back of her dress and her bra, freeing her breasts to his hands.
"Mmmmm, it feels so much better when you jack me off, Aunt Carol," he moaned.
Vera's face moved between their naked thighs. Her hand covered Carol's and stopped its pumping motion. Her lips pursed and captured the tip of Jimmy's prick, and she sucked up and down its length, her saliva wetting Carol's fingers lewdly. She watched the sucking at her crotch and felt Jimmy toss beneath her. She remembered sucking him herself, and she was filled with tingling sensation.
"Don't do it-all the way," she gasped. "I want him in me."
She lifted up and searched with her pussy as if it were a mouth. Vera pulled her face away until the prick popped out. She guided it into Carol's sodden hole and watched it slide all the way to the root. Jimmy's hips rocked up and down and his fingers played with Carol's nipples. Vera pushed her face to the joining and licked all over Carol's distended orifice with her tongue, licking at the exposed clit, going lower to suck and nibble at Jimmy's balls and then come up his stalk to the point where it entered Carol's body.
Carol leaned back and squirmed heatedly, feeling she was going mad with passion. She'd never experienced anything like this before in her life. She was being fucked and sucked at the same time, and the sensation was unbelievable. She felt herself coming already.
"Oh, God," she gasped. "Jimmy, I can't believe this."
"I knew you'd like it, Aunt Carol."
"What about Vera-poor Vera?"
"She was only waiting for you to get this hot."
"What-what's she going to do?"
"Vera, show her."
Vera gave a last flick of Carol's clit with her tongue and stood up quickly, spreading her thighs around the chair so that her pussy was directly in front of Carol's face. She held the back of Carol's head with both hands and pulled forward.
"Suck me off, Auntie," she purred.
Carol stared into the dark-furred depths of her glistening cunt and let out a ragged moan. The slack, wet cunt came forward and kissed her lips. She kissed back hungrily, feeling Jimmy's finger rolling on her clit and his prick fucking in and out of her cunt. Her tongue thrust forward into the slippery warmth and was tugged at by silken muscles. Juice ran down her chin. She felt her mind whirl away with approaching orgasm, and her mouth went wild on the savory twat in front of her.
It happened all at once. She felt Jimmy's penis throb threateningly and heard his moan of approaching release. Her muscles gripped him tightly, and her tongue pumped in and out of Vera's twat. Hands squeezed her breasts to whiteness, and the whole chair seemed to rock with instability, as if it, too, were ready to spasm.
Carol felt the flood of sperm flow into her cunt. She tasted the juice that ran from Vera's pussy with each twitch of her spasming muscles. She felt her own abdomen roll and squeeze, and a semi-darkness came over her mind as she cried out and shuddered again and again.
Afterwards, she watched them fucking on the floor, Jimmy mounted on Vera's ass, his fingers tickling her pussy from underneath and playing with her dangling breasts. Then Vera was masturbating her while Carol sucked on Jimmy's prick, changing her method to match the one she'd seen Vera use.
Carol didn't know how many times she came. It was a night of unbelievable lust. She staggered to the bathroom, leaving them screwing in a perverted way.
She sat on the pot and let the emotion drain from her with her water, shaking her head in disbelief, yet wanting to get up and hurry back for more. They were laughing in low voices. There was something sinister in their tones.
". . . told you I had her conditioned," Jimmy was saying. "The old bag was eating it up, wasn't she?"
"No life, no drive. She hasn't got what I've got, darling, and you know it. How can you stand to fuck her?"
Jimmy laughed softly. "I'll fuck any hole when yours isn't around."
"I thought I'd go crazy waiting for you to come back to me."
"I had to get her hooked," he said. "We made up for it over the weekend, didn't we?"
"What's her old man like?"
"A turd," Jimmy said. "Forget him." He sighed. "Well, I think we're in. Pretty neat pad, isn't it?"
"When should we bring the others in on her?"
"We've got to get you accepted, first."
"What if the old man comes home early and finds me moved in with you."
"I can handle him."
"You can handle anybody, Jimmy. You're a real preacher. I still think you took a chance with your kid sister, feeding her those pills."
"Shit. She'll be better in no time. It got me in here, didn't it? Can you imagine me-in a dorm"! "
"Where's the pot? Should we get her high?"
"Maybe tomorrow."
Carol listened. A coldness settled over her. Stravinsky crashed discordantly through her mind, jerking and throbbing, until she forced a calm into herself that was like the end of the record, when the orchestral climax had died away. She braced herself because she knew she had to go back in. They would suspect something if she were gone too long. She had to plan. She had to think of something.
"Mmmmm, there she is, Jimmy," Vera purred. "Carol, hurry, I've been dying to suck your pussy again. Come here, you pretty thing."
Carol smiled as if nothing were wrong. "You're sweet, Vera, but I can't do anything more tonight: I'm not as young as you two, you know. But we can do this again tomorrow night, can't we?"
"Do you really want to, Aunt Carol?" Jimmy asked, smiling hard, filling the room with his pretty teeth.
Carol looked straight at them and was blinded no more. "Of course I do, Jimmy," she said easily. "I've never had such fun in my life. Maybe . . . maybe Vera would like to stay with us, Jimmy. While Frank is gone, of course."
The two looked at each other, and a sly smile passed between them that Carol didn't miss. She knew what they were thinking. Give the old bag her kicks often enough to satisfy her until they can think up a good way to blackmail her. Get her high. Hooked, even. Fuck her cunt until it bleeds.
She kept the innocent smile on her face while she thought and planned, knowing that speed would be necessary.
"That'd be wonderful, Carol," Vera purred. "I'll sure make it worth your while."
"I know you will, Vera," she said sweetly, covering her pussy with her hand. "You've already given me a demonstration. Jimmy better watch out, or I might fall for you, instead."
Vera chuckled contentedly with a low sound in her throat.
"Only I'm going to ask one thing of you in return," Carol said, her plan taking shape. "What's that?"
"I've heard so much about pot."
"You want to try some."
"Uh-huh."
Jimmy laughed. "Didn't I tell you she was a natural swinger, Vera?"
"There's one other thing. I have a friend-she's about thirty. A divorcee. We've talked about things like this before. I know she'd go wild. She's much prettier than I am, slender, blonde. I'll vouch for her all the way. May I bring her tomorrow night?"
They glanced at each other again. "Are you sure about her?" Vera asked.
"Absolutely. But she's a little shy. If you could have the party going when I bring her, that would solve that little problem. Vera, you'll just love her, I know. And Jimmy-she told me she likes . . . she likes it in the other end, know what I mean? Just like the pictures in your book. Doesn't that excite you?"
"You wouldn't get mad, Aunt Carol?"
Carol laughed liftingly. "Not any more. Maybe if I see what it's like, I might.. . " She looked away and let her voice trail off. "Remember what you used to dream of doing with me?"
Jimmy licked his lips, his blue eyes blazing with confidence. "Yeah," he said. "What time?"
"She'd be free about nine. Remember, have it going strong when we walk in. Be fucking, and everything."
"That sounds like fun, Jimmy," Vera said silkily. "Mmmmm, I always like fresh cunt to eat. Honey, I'm getting horny again, just thinking about it."
Jimmy watched her stretch lithely on the carpet. His dick crawled up his thigh. "Me too," he said. He looked at Carol. "Sure you won't join us for another one?"
"I can't, sweetie. You've worn old auntie out." She watched them couple and turned to leave the room. She crawled into bed, plotting out the rest of her scheme.
It wouldn't matter whether Vera stayed all night tonight as long as she was gone in the morning. Then she'd call Myra. It would have to be Myra, because she'd been the cause of it all. The police would create publicity. Dean Harker was out of the question, because it would go down on Frank's career whether the dean tried to keep it quiet or not. And it had been Frank who'd gotten Jimmy enrolled in the first place. No, it would have to be Myra.
She squirmed in the bed, feeling a sense of victory after all the years of wanting to get even, and another thought came to her mind. The teeth. Jim's teeth, pearly and white and excitingly handsome. They had blinded her too. Not only during the time they'd gone together, but for the nineteen years since then.
The old adage went through her mind. It takes two. Myra couldn't have stolen Jim unless Jim had wanted to be stolen.
She thought back over the years and looked at them in a different light, seeing Jim in a way she'd never looked at him before. He had used her too. Just the way his rotten kid had used her-selfishly and without regard to her feelings, just like Myra tried to use her all the time. Perhaps they'd deserved each other after all.
She made a change of plans. She wouldn't call. She would simply drive to Lake Wales and thereby obligate Myra to come back with her. It would be a good use of her own tactics so that her dear sister could get a taste of them herself.
She thought further. Jimmy would be sick-emergency. The hospital needed Myra's signature before they could begin treatment, since Jimmy was a minor.
She smiled in the darkness. It would give her a fright as well. She began figuring the distance and the time, determining when she would have to leave in order to get back just after nine.
She heard Jimmy and Vera outside, laughing softly with each other, thinking they had it made-two spoiled, free-loading, selfishly rotten kids.
"Frank, darling," she whispered to his pillow. "It'll all be settled soon, and then we can try again."
9
It worked out better than she'd planned. When Carol drove up to Myra's house, another car was there. She got out and went to the door and was greeted by Jack, a sincere, slightly beefy man of conservative views and strong opinion. He was a good man, moderately wealthy, whose only weakness was Myra-an affliction Carol had never understood.
"Myra, it's your sister, Carol," he called into the back of the house. He held the door wide and smiled pleasantly, insisting on shaking her hand. Myra's children came running from all parts of the house shouting Aunt Carol at her.
"Linda, I thought you were in the hospital," Carol said.
"She got out today," Jack said. "They don't know what it was all about. Her problem cleared up practically overnight, and they kept her for observation. Very strange, they said. Well, what brings you up here? Nothing serious, I hope."
"I'm afraid it is, Jack," Carol said.
His face changed. He gave quiet commands to the children to go out and not disturb them and to get their mother. They quit bouncing around and obeyed meekly.
"You've really done wonders with them, Jack," Carol complimented him. He flushed slightly and sat down.
"I wish I could have gotten to Jimmy sooner," he whispered. "That's just between the two of us, now." He smiled pleasantly at her.
"When are you going to get married?"
He shook his head and sighed. "If you know what makes your sister tick, I sure wish you'd let me know," he said. "We're all but married now as it is, even though I feel uncomfortable with this arrangement." He pulled at his collar and flushed again, expressing the way living in sin bothered him. Myra came in finally, fluffing damp curls at the back of her neck.
"Hi, honey," she gushed, sticking her arms out as if to implant a big kiss. "I'm sorry I took so long, but I was in the shower. We just got Linda back from the hospital, and I felt so sticky and miserable that I had to drop everything and get in the shower."
Carol suffered the gooey kiss on her cheek and saw that her sister had gained another five pounds since the last time.
"Somebody's keeping you well fed," she observed.
Myra's face tightened, then went sicky sweet with a smile. "What a surprise to see you here, Carol. My, you haven't changed a bit. A baby would fix that for her, wouldn't it, Jack?"
Jack cleared his throat. "Myra, she says it's something important."
"Oh? What's the matter? Isn't Jimmy behaving? Of course he is, I didn't mean to ask that."
"He has something wrong with him, Myra. The hospital can't start treatment without your signature. I'm sorry, but you'll have to pack something and come back with me."
"Oh!" she squeaked. "Oh, Carol, what's the matter?"
Carol shrugged. "I don't know. They won't do anything until you can admit him."
She sat back and let Jack calm her down. He did a good job. She needed him the way she needed water. He excused himself and made a call, then came back in.
"Myra and I will follow you back, Carol. You should have called, instead of driving all this way."
"I didn't know you would want to come."
"Of course I'm coming," he said firmly.
"But the children, Jack!"
"I've taken care of that already, honey, now pack only what you'll need for one night, and let's get going." She left the room in a fluster. "Where is he now, Carol?"
"At our house," she said smoothly, glancing at her watch. "We should get there just after nine, if we hurry."
They didn't get separated. They pulled into the drive on schedule. Carol got out first and listened to the stillness. For some reason, she'd expected to hear hard rock shaking the house apart. Her heart pumped until she could feel her throat pulse. She had a feeling that something was wrong. Myra and
Jack came up beside her, and she was yakking noisily.
"You'll have to be very quiet, Myra," Carol said sternly. "He says loud noises bother him and make him pain all over."
"Oh!" she squeaked, clutching her throat with her hand. Jack's arm went about her firmly.
Carol felt her skin prickle. She knew something was wrong. Her palm began to sweat with an icy moisture. She turned the knob and opened the door because there was nothing else she could do now.
Let them be fucking, she pleaded.
The house was silent. She went ahead of them to the living room and saw that it was empty. There were glasses on the table from drinks they'd had and a peculiar odor in the air, barely discernable, but like the stench of burning grass.
She felt hollow inside. The whole plan had failed. She felt her face go white as the blood drained out of it. Her mind churned, trying to manufacture an explanation, but nothing came to her.
"He's in your spare room, isn't he?" Myra asked, whispering.
Carol made a production of looking worried, as if something might be wrong. She glanced at Jack and saw a knowing look on his face. She knew he wouldn't hold her to blame if Jimmy weren't in the house at all.
"Loud noises, huh?" he muttered darkly.
Carol went through the kitchen. Jimmy's door was closed. She held her breath and opened it, hoping . . .
Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed scowling darkly, watching Jimmy pack his belongings.
"Frank!" Carol cried, feeling as if she were going to faint. "Darling, what are you doing here!"
He looked at her blackly and back, then looked again, seeing Myra and Jack behind her. Jimmy turned and blanched.
"Mom!" he croaked. He shook visibly when he saw Jack behind her.
"Frank, what in the world is going on?"
Frank stood up and came toward her. She watched his repressed anger. He was drawn tight enough to explode if anybody said anything wrong.
"Keep packing, sonny," he said tersely. He backed Carol and the others away and closed the door behind him. He put his hands on his hips and nodded terse greeting to Jack. On second thought, he opened the door and told Myra to go in. Then he took Jack and Carol into the living room.
"I'm sorry, Jack," he said levelly, "but he's going out. I don't know what the hell you're doing here, but the timing couldn't have been better. You'll have to take him back with you or stay over and find him somewhere else to stay. Suit yourself. He's not staying here. If I were you, I'd knock the shit out of him. After that, do as you see fit." He looked at Carol. "What's he doing here-he and Myra?"
"I brought them up, darling," she said softly. Jack grew impatient. "Jesus, Frank, what'd he do now?"
Frank looked at him and took a deep breath. "Maybe it's just as well I walked in on it as to have his mother see it. I wouldn't have been home until
Friday unless that storm hadn't whipped up and started moving toward our area."
"Frank, what are you talking about?" Carol cried, thoroughly confused, still unsure of her own position. The only thing clear was that her husband had walked in on the party and broken it up. But there was no way of telling whether she was implicated. Jimmy would have tried. She knew he would have said anything in an effort to save his own neck. And there were Al's lighter and tie . . .
"The hurricane, Carol," he said. The one you told me about two weeks ago. The one we were hoping would come. Well, it's coming fast, now, and it's going to be a big one. But it's nothing like the one we had in here when I caught that little bastard."
"A girl?" Jack asked sharply.
"Yeah."
"Name of Vera something-hot-looking wench?"
Frank nodded. "Her and stinkweed."
Jack's jaw muscles knotted. "I knew it," he grated. "I knew it. I warned him to stay away from her." He had more to say, but he kept it in. "Frank, I'm truly sorry. I didn't like this thing from the beginning, but by damn if I could talk sense to Myra. If you two will excuse me and pretend you can't hear so well, I'm going in that room for a minute, and there's going to be some sense spoken to both of them. Please accept my apologies."
Frank gripped his shoulder a minute. "Forget it, Jack, I know it's not your fault." They watched him march purposefully toward the room. Frank took Carol's arm and led her out into the back, where the garden was. He sighed deeply, inhaling the fresh, aromatic night air. Then he looked at Carol through the darkness.
"What are they doing here?" he asked.
She held his hand. "Does it matter any more, Frank?"
He was silent a long time. "I guess not. I'm glad I aborted your plan. It would have been rough on Myra."
"I wanted it to be."
"Why didn't you tell me, Carol?"
"I did. But you wouldn't listen."
"He said some things about you."
"Do you believe them, darling? Tell me the truth, because we can't start over right if you have any doubt."
He was silent. In the stillness, they could hear Jimmy's harsh voice arguing and wheedling over Myra's shrillness.
"No," he said finally.
"What if I told you they were true?"
"Are they?"
She sucked air to the bottom of her lungs and felt her throat clog. "Yes," she sobbed. She leaned against him, feeling as if she wanted to die, knowing she was too rotten for him now.
His arm came around her shoulder and held her firmly. "You're a God damn liar," he said distinctly, rather sharply.
She threw her arms around him and shuddered with wracking sobs, letting the tears of dirtiness wash her eyes clean. He held her until she was finished, and it took a long time.
"Anyway," he said gruffly, "even if they were true, I deserved it." He looked up at the sky. High cirrus clouds covered the face of the moon with puffs of lace over in the east. "Look," he said. "Here comes the edge already. We're in for a hell of a blow. Day after tomorrow, I'll bet, if it keeps coming this fast. I think we need a good hurricane party-just the two of us. Maybe it'll come up and squat here for two weeks and just scrub everything clean."
"I know it will, darling."
"So do I. Come on, let's go back in and get rid of all of them. You and I have some things to do."
"I'll stay out here, Frank," she said. "I just don't want to see them any more."
"All right."
She watched him go back inside. She saw them standing together after a moment. Her sister was blubbering, putting on a good act, clinging to Jack's arm as if she couldn't bear to be without him any more. Jimmy's head was down. He looked up now and then, defiant, trying out his smile. But he had no takers. Carol watched him. She felt sick inside when she saw him move in little gestures that reminded her of the past. The door closed behind them, and she knew it was the final closing for her, the lid on the coffin of dead memories that would never be opened again.
She watched her husband come toward her, and tears stung her eyes. She ran in to meet him, throwing herself into his arms.
"I want you to do something for me, darling," she said, pulling back, kissing him all over.
"What, sweetie?"
"I want you to hurt me. Don't ask why," she said quickly, putting her hand over his mouth. "It'll be a good start. That's what I hear."
He looked at her. "Only hear."
"I swear it."
"All right."
She led him into the bedroom. She stripped his clothes from him and then shed her own. She made him lie on his back, and she took his penis in her hand, jacking it up and down. She bent over his hips and sucked him into her mouth, loving his prick with all the passion that was in her. She stopped when he moaned and moved his hips.
"Don't stop," he said.
"That was to get you so that you can't stop," she said.
She lay beside him and urged him on top of her, guiding his prick into her pussy. He began pumping rapidly, and she slowed him.
"Not this way, darling," she said.
"What do you want, Carol?" he asked.
She moved him until his penis came out, slippery and coated with her juice. Then she lifted her pelvis high and took hold of him, guiding his spear between her cheeks. She felt the broad tip press against her anus, and she whimpered.
"Carol," he gasped. "Darling, no."
"Yes, Frank, yes! Push, darling!"
She whimpered and settled down to meet him, fearing that this was the wrong way to do it. Then his head popped inside the tight ring, and they both cried out.
Her thighs spread wide, and her pussy rubbed against his abdomen. She worked her butt around and drew inward until his shaft began to move. Her anus burned, and her eyes smarted.
"It's a good hurt, darling, don't stop pushing. I want you in all the way when you come."
His lower lip quivered with passion as his penis throbbed. He watched her writhe and whimper beneath him.
"Darling, is there any question?" she asked, her hands going crazy over his back and his buttocks and his head.
"No, sweetie, no question about this."
"Then come," she gasped. "Frank, fill me with your love. Oh, darling, it's driving me crazy, and I can't-Frank! Frank!"
Carol felt his semen spurt into her rectum, and she cried out with utter joy. Her anus squeezed tightly around his prick and milked it dry as she thrashed under the whip of orgasm and thrust her tongue into his mouth again and again until she was limp.
Frank pulled out of her, and she cupped his buttocks firmly. "Don't go away, darling. Don't go away any more."
He slid into her pussy, and they moved together slowly, building up to another peak that was a long, wonderful distance away-one that would take a long time to get to but would be worth it when they did.