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Subject: RP: 17/20 "Jake & Jack" by Rhett Dreams [mf, incest]
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A repost of one of my personal faves.
Note: This is fiction and is intended for mature audiences.
JAKE & JACK
c. 1994, by Rhett Dreams
Chapter Seventeen - "Sophie to the Rescue"
A week or so before Dad and Marion's wedding, I took a call from
Frank Reynolds, Dad's oldest and best friend on the police force. Both
were Irish, both Lieutenants and both were expected to make Captain
before too long. Frank worked in vice while Dad headed homicide.
"Hey, Jake O'Leary," he said over the phone. "You gettin' laid
yet?"
"Not as often as you, I'd guess," I said. I knew from my father and
several others on the police force that Frank was considered a charming
rouge with the ladies. It was said that his six children with his long-
suffering wife made up no more than half of his offspring. "But I'm doin'
okay."
"Good," he said. "Just don't grow up all straight-laced like Plug
and you'll do just dandy." Plug was the name everyone on the force used
for my father. It was short for fire plug and nicely captured his six-foot,
two hundred thirty pound body. "Fridge" would have been an even better
nickname given Dad's square shoulders but that was already taken when he
joined the force after returning from Vietnam.
"I don't think that's gonna be a problem," I said.
He laughed and said, "Say, we're throwing a bachelor party for
Plug. You're invited. Jack too. Friday night before the big day. Anybody
else I should invite?"
I thought about his friends outside of the police force and suggested
a couple of names.
- o -
Over dinner one night Dad surprised us by saying that he'd asked
Uncle Bob to come stay with us while he and Marion were in Europe for
three weeks. Bob was my late mother's brother who owned a farm in
upstate New York. He was also the guy who had taught Cathy much of
what she knew about sex.
I stole a glance at Cathy and saw her cover up her obvious interest
in this news with a blasé expression.
"We're a little too old for a baby-sitter," complained Jack. I knew
that he was hoping to have the freedom and privacy in Dad's absence to
arrange the four-way with Wendy, Sophie and me.
"I know, Jack," said Dad. "But Jill can't spend all that time with her
Dad. He travels too much. Besides, she likes you guys and working at the
house. Marion would be much more comfortable if Jill stayed here and if
Bob was around. He's coming down anyway for the wedding and he tells
me the farm runs itself this time of year, now that he's hired a helper. He
even told me he'd rent a place at Virginia Beach for a long weekend with
y'all."
The prospect of spending some time at the ocean mollified us. It
was going to be tough, though, to arrange the four-way while both Uncle
Bob and Jill were staying at the house. I glanced at Cathy and wondered if
she and Bob would rekindle the week-long affair they had a year ago. I
could tell from Jack's expression that he was thinking along the same lines.
I made myself a mental note to call Frank Reynolds and tell him to
expect another guest at the bachelor's party.
- o -
The Friday before the wedding I had to make a trip downtown to
drop some papers off at Dad's office. He was out on a call so I wandered
over to see if Frank was around. He was in his office and jumped up to
greet me, then closed his door and invited me to sit.
"Jake, m'lad, it's after five o'clock in the Mother Country. Will ya
be joining me for a little nip?" He pulled a fifth of Irish Whiskey and two
glasses from a drawer and poured two small drinks. I took a glass and we
clinked.
"To Gerald Francis O'Leary," he said and we downed the drinks.
The whiskey burned my throat as it went down but I managed not to
cough.
His intercom buzzed and he pressed the button.
"Yes, darlin'," he said.
"A Mr. Quincy on line three. Say's its important," came a female
voice from the box.
He told me that this was the guy arranging for entertainment at the
bachelor party for later that night. He talked for a second then listened,
frowning as he did.
"Now, shit, Quince," he said. "Can't you find another girl?"
He listened for a few minutes more then told the guy not to worry.
He hung up and said, "We had wanted to rent a cake, one of those big
ones, and have a half-naked girl pop out... maybe do a little dance for
Plug."
He called one name then another, but all the places that did this
kind of thing were booked weeks ahead of time, and our party was tonight.
An idea popped into my head and the more I thought about it, the better it
sounded.
"Call Quince back," I said when he hung up after trying a forth
service. "And give me the phone."
Frank raised his eyebrows but did as I asked. After introducing
himself he mentioned who I was and gave me the phone.
"Mr. Quincy is it?" I said.
"Quince will do for the son of Plug O'Leary," came the friendly
voice at the other end.
"I have a girl in mind for this evening but she's an amateur," I said.
"Oh?" he said. "Is she legal?"
I thought about that and decided to tell the truth, "I could lie to
you, Quince but I wont. She's sixteen, almost seventeen." I looked up into
the bemused face of Frank Reynolds and continued, "But I have it from a
reliable source high in the vice squad that there wont be a problem."
Quince laughed and Frank smiled.
"We'll, that's fine then," said Quince.
"But she doesn't have the right kind of costume," I said.
"I can take care of that, if you'll find out her size." He mentioned
what he needed and a made a note.
"Can you hold," I asked.
I looked up at Frank and gave him the Patterson's number. He put
Quince on hold and punched it in. As luck would have it Sophie was home
and soon on the line.
"I need your help tonight at Dad's party. How'd you like to jump
out of a cake?"
She giggled and I quickly told her the circumstances. She decided
after a minute that she'd love to do it. I got the size info that Quince
needed and thanked her.
"Here's are the sizes, Quince," I said when Frank got him back on
the line. "Shoes are an eight medium. Dress size is ten if its spacious up
top, twelve otherwise. Thirty-eight inch bust, D cup, twenty six waist,
thirty-six hips."
He whistled in appreciation then told me he had what she'd need
and would put it aside for me. After we'd hung up Frank appraised me
openly, his eyes showing admiration. He reached over and picked up the
scrap of paper I had used to jot down Sophie's sizes.
"This girl taken?" he asked, a lecherous look on his face.
"Uh huh."
"Yours?"
"Yep," I said.
"Shee-it, Jake," he said. "I can't wait."
- o -
I stopped off at Quincy's storefront and picked up a large box that
he'd put aside for Sophie's costume. From there I drove over to the
Patterson's. Sophie, Joan and I went up to the master bedroom to examine
the contents. First came a cheesy feather boa, which Joan put aside. Next
came a one-piece garment that was reasonably modest if somewhat garish.
The top was somewhat low cut but not outrageously so. A two inch ring
hung from the zipper at the top and it zipped down to just below the naval.
A short skirt was an integral part of the garment and would reach no more
than six inches down her thighs.
"This is how you'll look when you pop out," said Joan, holding up
the outfit. "Garters and stockings below. The boa around your neck."
A small portable boom box was also in the box and I pulled it out
and flipped the play button. Joan laughed and Sophie blushed as the
sounds of a strip tune filled the room. I turned it off after a second.
"What have you gotten me into?" asked Sophie but she was smiling.
"Aha," said Joan, reaching into the box and retrieving a matching
set of bra and panties. The bra was heavy duty with wires sewn into the
cup and sides that would hold her breasts up and together, creating an
enormous swell of breast and cleavage. The panties were thick but cut
severely up the sides.
"This is the next layer," said Joan. "I think you're supposed to exit
the cake, dance around to the music, tease the guest of honor, then strip
down to the bra and panties."
Sophie blushed but I could tell she was excited as well, and she
grabbed the clothes and went into the bathroom to change. Joan pulled out
the garter belt and the stockings, then a choker with a bow at the throat.
"Oh my goodness!" she said. Her face broke out into a big smile
and she pulled out a few more things. She held up two tassels and when I
gave her a questioning look she put them against her breasts and rotated
her body, twirling them in circles.
"No shit!" I said and laughed. There was no way Sophie would
strip down to just tassels attached somehow to her nipples. And when
Joan showed me the final garment, a thin g-string that matched the tassels I
laughed until my sides hurt, imaging Sophie stripping as close to naked as
is possible in front of my straight-laced dad and his friends on the force.
"I think she should do it," said Joan, her expression highly amused.
"No way in hell she will," I said. "She's doing me a favor, and Dad-
--"
I didn't finish because Sophie came out of the bathroom. She
sashayed up to us, sliding the boa back and forth across her neck.
"Turn the music on," she said. "I need to practice." Sophie asked
me to take a seat and pretend I was the guest of honor. I did and Joan
rewound the tape and started the music.
Sophie pranced around the room, moving seductively, with me as
the center of attention. She moved to the music and used her hips to
punctuate the throbbing tune. I was quite impressed with her dance. After
a few minutes she posed in front of me and rocked her hips suggestively at
me while she pulled the boa off and tossed it in my direction. She danced
around some more and I was surprised at the amount of breast that showed
now that the boa was gone. After another minute of dancing and strutting
to the music she came back to me and, bending toward me, pointed at the
ring between her huge tits. I grabbed it and slowly unzipped her as she
bumped and grind to the music, pushing her sex in my direction.
The zipper down, I watched as she moved about the room, feigning
it's removal several times before peeling it seductively off first one
shoulder, then the other. When she had removed the outer garment she
held in to her front and danced back and forth before letting me pull it
away. Now dressed in the bra that showed more tits than it covered,
panties cut way up her thigh, garter and stockings she pranced some more
before sitting herself in my lap and kissing me.
I heard applause and looked up to see that Ralph had joined us. I
guess he must have heard the music and come to investigate. Joan turned
off the music and joined Ralph. clapping for the performance.
"How was I," she asked.
"Super. Dad'll love it," I said, believing instead that he'd be
embarrassed down to his socks to have his son's girlfriend put on this show
for him in front of all his colleagues.
"I have to work on it more, in the heels," she said. She'd done the
dance for me in her stocking feet.
I had to leave to take care of other errands and to get ready for the
party. I told Joan and Cathy where and when to arrive, and suggested she
get their early enough to practice coming out of the cake. A grin on his
face, Ralph volunteered to take my place in the chair for the next practice
sessions.
- o -
I picked Uncle Bob up at the Airport and we drove home. My
Uncle was an unassuming man of thirty-five or so, with sandy blond hair,
of average height but with a tautly muscled body. We chatted about his
farm and our new house on the way home. He asked about Jack, then
about Cathy in a way that suggested he was quite interested in seeing his
niece again. He didn't know that I knew about his affair with Cathy the
previous summer, and would have been mortified to know that she'd
passed on every lesson he gave her, personally, to her twin brothers.
Showered and dressed, Jack, Bob, Dad and I drove over to the hall
and arrived shortly after eight. Twenty or so men were inside, huddled
around the open bar, until they saw that Plug had arrived. They greeted
him with hollers, good-natured ribbing and toast after toast until dinner was
served. While we ate, several people stood up and offered a story about
Plug, many of them new to me and all of them were very funny.
A surprise guest was a fellow from his outfit in Vietnam from well
over twenty years ago. Dad talked very little about those days and all I
knew is that he enlisted after high school and spent two tours there, first as
an infantryman, then after graduating from special forces school.
The man who stood up was a tall, very fit looking black man, with a
barrel chest, who looked very intimidating in his green beret uniform, the
insignia of a full colonel at his collar. When he lifted his glass and spoke,
his voice matched his looks, a deep clear baritone.
"I was surprised to hear," he said, his voice silencing the crowd and
echoing off the walls, "from some of you Virginia gentlemen, that the
former Sergeant O'Leary is now considered a pillar of this God-fearin'
community. A responsible man. Decent, straight-laced even and righteous
to a fault. I have but one question to put to you---what the hell happened
to the fiery Irish lad we knew in 'Nam, who had trouble keeping his zipper
closed?"
The room erupted in laughter and my father sunk down in his chair,
his face red for the first time that I could remember.
"On R&R trips, to Seoul and Japan," continued the man in his
mesmerizing voice. "it was Sergeant O'Leary here who closed down the
brothels."
Cat calls and cries for more echoed in the room.
"There is a popular belief that men of color, such as myself, are
blessed with... certain natural advantages in terms of our... equipment."
This brought more laughter and cat calls. My father now had his
head in his hands.
"But it was not me that was legend throughout Southeast Asia... or
any of the brothers who served so well. I'm hear to tell you, gentlemen,
that it was no other than Sergeant O'Leary, the man we are here to honor,
who earned this name, this name of stature from the ladies who took care
of our needs... Gentlemen, please rise and drink with me to the man they
called The Horse."
The room exploded as everybody jumped to their feet and repeated
after the black man, whose name I still didn't know, "To the Horse!"
My father sat for a moment, shaking his head, then rose to his feet.
He made a big show of checking his shoulder holster for his gun, then
walked slowly up to the grinning Colonel. The stared at one another for a
moment before embracing to the shouts of the men.
- o -
After dinner was over Frank Reynolds got up and made a speech,
concluding with a call to bring out the desert. He motioned for everybody
to rise and brought Dad to a seat in the middle of the room. I waited
nervously as Quince wheeled out the huge plastic cake to the vocal delight
of all the attendees. I thought this would be a great idea at first but now
I was nervous and wished I hadn't talked Sophie into this. I was surprised
when I noticed Joan Patterson slip out of the room where the cake was
stored and set up the boom box on a table. She was out of the way but
would have a perfect view of the proceedings.
The music started and just as suddenly Sophie banged out of the
cake and stood half out of the cake, her arms held up and out. The crowd
gave a cheer and she climbed out, a bit awkwardly on the heels she wore.
She had on more makeup than usual but Dad recognized her instantly and
his face showed surprise. She began to dance to the music and did an even
better job than in the rehearsal I had witnessed. The assembled men drifted
over to get a better look as she danced and strutted around the room,
always returning to stand and gyrate in front of Dad.
By the time she had shed the feather boa, the crowd was clapping
to the music and shrill whistles could be heard. I was really quite proud of
her as she danced and swayed and rocked her hips suggestively. Dad's face
was red when she returned in front of him and pointed to the ring at her
heaving bosom. He reached to hold it but she teased herself a foot or two
away, and turned to the crowd with her eyebrows arched, a question on
her face.
"Yes.. Yes," they chanted and she danced around before returning.
She let him zip it down then danced away. After a minute she pulled the
outer garment off, seductively. She was bent over, her ass about foot from
his face when she finally slipped it over her ass and down her legs. The
crowd cheered.
I was breathing a little easier now that the dance was almost over.
She continued to dance, playing to the crowd, and even came over to
where I was standing with Jack and gave us a smile and a shake. Her
breasts looked huge in the push up bra, and I was totally surprised when
she turned in front of me and pointed behind her. I was too stunned
to move, and Jack moved behind her and undid the clasp. She quickly
danced over to Dad again, looking over her shoulder coyly at the crown as
they cheered her on. She let the bra fall off, down her arms, then wrapped
it around dad's neck. She turned away from him and swayed in circles,
causing her now-exposed breasts and the tassels affixed to their tips to
rotate in circles.
The crowd was really screaming now. I looked at dad and found
his face quite red and his jaw open as he stared at Sophie. She continued
to sway and her large but firm breasts moved seductively. Her hands slid
down her sides and flicked open the garter on each side. With her fingers
under the waist band of her panties, she tossed another pointed look at the
men and they chanted for more. Slowly she peeled the panties off her
undulating hips, giving Plug O'Leary a perfect view of her ass as she
pushed them down her legs and off. When she turned I could see for the
first time that the g-string covered at most an inch-wide portion of her
front. It flashed in my head that Joan must have shaved her pubic hair
because nothing showed on either side of the thin strip except for white
skin.
She sashayed back to Dad's chair, dancing for him, thrusting her
hips toward him as she approached. Just as the music ended she straddled
him, sat in his lap and gave him a long wet kiss. Climbing off him she
bowed quickly to the cheering audience and scampered away, back into the
room from which she had come.
The crowd was chanting, "More... More... More," when Dad
recovered his composure and stood, raising his hands for silence. The din
died down slowly, then erupted again when somebody shouted, "Go after
her Plug, it's your last chance!"
The raucous laughter died down again as "Plug" motioned for
silence by holding his hands up.
"Gentlemen," he said. His voice was not as captivating as his army
friend's but it was loud and clear. "...and I use that term very loosely."
When the laughter died down again he continued, "To the, ah,
Gentleman who suggested I go after that gorgeous redhead, I'll say three
things. First, the young lady is not yet seventeen. Second," he shouted
over the disbelieving noises of the men, "we have with us tonight the head
of the vice squad, Frank Reynolds, who might one of these years actually
do his duty."
This brought laughter and Frank stepped forward and lifted his
glass in a mock salute.
"And third," boomed my father's voice. "I'd like to publicly thank
my scheming son, Jake, standing right over there, for arranging for the girl
we just watched, his girlfriend actually, to entertain us so enjoyably."
The men clapped and slapped me on the back. Frank hugged me as
whispered in my ear, "Okay, so she's taken. How about her sister standing
over there?" I took me a second to realize that he'd mistaken Joan as
Sophie's sister. I promised to introduced him to her later. After a bear hug
from my dad I went to the room off the hall and knocked softly. Joan
opened the door, a big grin on her youthful face, and let me in. Sophie had
a raincoat pulled around her and was listening as Quince talked to her
excitedly.
"You could make $500 a week working part-time, easy," he was
saying.
"That was a one-time performance," I said to Quince and kissed
Sophie. "You were unbelievable, Sophie. I can't believe you did that."
She beamed and hugged me. Her mouth was next to mine and she
whispered, "That's made me so hot. Is there someplace we can go?"
We borrowed the keys to Quince's van and hopped in the back and
she stripped off the raincoat. She got on all fours and I pulled my pants
down to me knees and knelt behind her. I pulled the thin G-string to one
side and eased my cock into her steamy wetness. We both came within
sixty seconds of my entry.
"Thanks, Jake... I really needed that," she panted.
"There must be thirty guys in there who'd give anything to do the
same to you."
"I know," she said, grinning. "Oh... I know."
When we returned inside I was surprised to find Frank in the room,
talking to Joan.
I approached and said, "So, Frank, you've met Sophie's sister."
Joan smiled and corrected me, explaining that she Sophie's mom
and expecting her forth child. Frank looked at her again and lost no interest
whatsoever. As Sophie changed I heard Frank asking Joan to
lunch and tossing aside her reasons for not saying yes. I wondered to
myself how long it would take before the newly-liberated Joan Patterson
was fucking this charming Irishman. I thought of Bill and decided that he
probably wouldn't mind all that much, given his happy circumstances.
I returned to the party after Joan and Sophie had left. I found Dad
talking to the black guy, who he introduced as Colonel Sam Jefferson. I
learned that he was about to retire from the army to start a second career
teaching in Charlottesville. He and his wife and their three kids were
looking for a house. This started Dad and I talking about the Victorian,
and we urged Sam to look in the same neighborhood of older homes for a
similar bargain. Sam agreed to stop by on Monday and take a look around.
He smiled at me when I gave him a pitch for the construction service of
Jake and Jack enterprises.
When they began talking about old times I drifted off and found
Jack and Uncle Bob sitting at a table drinking beers. I got my own and
joined them.
"Sophie gave every man in this place a hard on," gushed Jake.
Looking into his flushed face, I figured he was one or two beers away from
getting sick.
"She was pretty incredible," agreed Uncle Bob.
Frank Reynolds had wandered over and heard Bob's comment.
"That she was, laddies," he said and sat down. "But did you see her
mother? That bonny lady's a true prize for any man."
"Two weeks," I thought to myself. "Within two weeks she'll be
fucking Frank's brains out."
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