Chapter 4
Fern and Mary remained at the table while Sarah cleared the dishes away and brought coffee and brandy. The coffee would do Mary some good, get her out of her state of stuffed lethargy without really covering her up, and the brandy would allow Fern's thoughts to roam more freely. With Mitch and Lucy safely gone, she could speculate about the strange girl, question her, and muse about her own motives for wanting to be alone with her.
It seemed impossible that such stupid innocence could exist, and unthinkable that it could be related by blood to her. But there it was, smiling sappily at her from across the table. Now that she was drunk and loosely relaxed, she was more beautiful than ever, and when Fern got her to take off her glasses, her great natural beauty further increased. It was awe-inspiring, and at the same time it was quite maddening to see such beauty being camouflaged, while Fern had worked so hard to bring her own beauty to the fore. It was also worth looking into. Fern had already learned that the farm which Mary came from was an organic one, and now she asked if Mary's diet had been organic all her life.
"Yep. No 'secticides' allowed, only fertile eggs, livestock all natural-fed. Very healthy diet, but I never had a meal as good as this one."
"I suppose I could get that sort of food from the health food stores here."
"I s'pose. But it wouldn't be fresh. Gotta be fresh. Right off the farm."
"I see. And how big is their farm? Your farm now."
"Four thousand acres. Real big," she said, waving her arm expansively, and tightening the bodice over those high, full breasts. "Hate to go back there without my folks. Don't even know if I can," she said, and she sniffled and a great tear rolled down her smooth, tanned cheek.
Fern went around the table and put her arms about her, again unable to feel any sign of a bra to hold up those incredible breasts. She said, "There, there, Mary. Nothing we can do about it now. It's God's will, remember? Come. Let's get you into the shower."
"Stupid to cry," Mary said, unsteadily rising. "Take care of myself jus' fine now. Golly, I must smell like a sow."
She smelled like new-mown hay as Fern closely helped her along, saying as she went, "I'll take care of you for now, dear. You're in good hands now."
The girl smiled hazily at her and leaned more heavily against her. Her body was remarkably supple and soft, yet rippling with smooth muscle, and Fern became more determined than ever to see it. While Mary gazed about at the marble and chrome master bathroom, Fern got her dress unbuttoned down the back to her waist. She was wearing some sort of a cambric shift under it. As she started to pull the dress off her smoothly rounded shoulders, Mary said, "What're you doin'? Stop!"
Fern went right on. "Just helping you get out of these things and into the shower. You're so tired and full you can barely stand up."
"I c'n do it. You shouldn't see me," she said, trying to simultaneously hold up the dress and conceal her homespun-covered breasts at the same time, and failing at both.
"Nonsense. Don't give me any trouble," Fern sternly said. "After all, I'm your mother's sister, and she certainly helped you undress often enough."
"No," she said, still struggling weakly. "Not since I was a little girl. Modesty is the soul of ... of something or other... I forget. But y'shouldn't see me."
Fern grabbed her and turned her to face her. Up close, with her dress halfway down and the upper swells of her breasts showing, she was even more beautiful. Still Fern remained stern as she said, "That may be well and good for back on that farm, but you're in New York, in my house, and here we do things my way. So stop being such a perfect ass about such a simple thing as taking off your clothes and taking a bath, and just be still."
"Yes, ma'am," she meekly said, and her wide blue eyes blinked and she dropped her arms to her sides.
Fern went around behind her again to pull the ugly dress down over the lovely curves of her hips. It was warm, but the girl was shivering slightly. Fern had often been undressed by a maid, but she'd never undressed another woman before, not even Lucy when she was young, for there had always been a governess for that. Now she hesitated not at all in getting on her knees and taking off those clodhopper shoes and rolling the black stockings down over those sturdy but wonderfully curved calves. The hem of her niece's shift came to her knees, and Fern found that she was breathing a little hard as she gazed at the further curves that transformed the spartan garment into something that was most alluring. Did she have a desire for this girl? Impossible, for she was anything but a lesbian. She just wanted to see her, that was all.
Fern got to her feet, and as she did, she grasped the hem of her niece's shift to lift it. The girl came to life and tried to push it down, gasping. Fern gripped her jaw hard in her hand and snapped, "Damn it, hold still and let me help you!"
"You . . . you don't have to curse," said Mary. "And I can undress myself."
"This is my house and Til do as I wish here! Christ sake, you've never even taken a shower before!"
Again the girl became entirely submissive and docile. Perhaps there was some merit to a religious, rural upbringing. Fern raised the shift, but slowly. Through the lower lashes of her glowering eyes, she caught a glimpse of thighs that were like tapered columns of topaz, and silky golden loins. She lifted it higher, and paused when it was over Mary's eyes, for then she could gaze unobstructed at those breasts that had first fascinated her, and she shed any last disbelief that such gloriously shaped breasts could support themselves without the help of a man-made garment.
Still, they were unbelievable. Full, heavy globes, with perfectly ripe undersides, tapering to blunt cones which were capped with generously-sized areolas of rich coral pink that contrasted erotically well with the tan of the globes, and tipped with protuberant nipples that would fit exactly in a man's pursed lips. Mary began feebly struggling with the garment and Fern whipped it off her head, leaving the girl gloriously, beautifully naked.
It was almost too much. Before she could be overcome, Fern slapped a nubile haunch and said, "Into the shower." But before Mary had taken two steps, Fern grabbed her thick golden braid and brought her up short, saying, "Wait. Let me get this undone before you get in there."
Her fingers were inordinately clumsy in undoing the plait. Mary's bare backside stuck out too far, and she could feel its heat radiating through the front of her white crepe gown. The healthy, sweaty smell of her was almost intoxicating. Looking to the side, Fern could see them in profile, herself taller and more resplendent in heels and gown and coiffed hair, the girl from Indiana head down and nervously fidgeting, but just as lovely in the altogether. She billowed out the golden tresses when they were freed, and then touched that firm bottom again with a sharp little slap that propelled Mary into the shower. Fern felt as if she too had had too much to drink as she watched the shadowy tan form through the frosted glass of the shower door.
"Miss Fern?" Sarah's voice called from afar. "Mr. Nestor is here to see you."
"You tell him that when I want him, m call him," she replied, already unzipping her gown. "Tell him to go away."
It took Fern far less time to undress than it had to dress, and then she was into the shower stall with the startled girl, only to confirm the beauty she had already seen. She went about it briskly, businesslike, as if it were normal for two New York females to share a shower together. She adjusted the water temperature and took the perfurmed soap from Mary's hands, turned her around and felt as well as looked at the creamy smooth skin of her softly tapered back. When Mary tried to protest, she told her to shut up and soaped those exquisitely protuberant buttocks, delving deep in the crack of them with the lather and thus causing her niece to whimper and try to climb the walls of her splashy little prison. Fern's elegantly coif-fed hairdo was already in a shambles, but she didn't notice it at all.
Now that she'd seen all of that splendid young body, she was compelled to touch it. Her impulse was to use that bar of soap all over it, but her hands were shaking too much and she feared she might frighten the girl. So she stuck the bar of soap into Mary's hand and turned her back to have it washed, and to catch her breath.
Light as Mary's touch was, it soothed away the tension that had built in Fern's shoulders. Without looking at her, she could think again. It was simply impossible that the farmgirl could be that beautiful. If Fern had had that beauty at age eighteen, she'd have snared the Aga Khan. Apparently all Mary lacked was brains, or at least the knowledge of what she had going for her. She had no doubt that Mary was a virgin, and that the first man who got hold of her would very probably never let her go. It angered her a little that Mary had so much natural beauty, and that so much of her own had been paid for. The girl could so easily turn men on, it was ridiculous. She was even turning Fern on a little. She wondered if Mary knew it.
Mary had never felt so strange in her life. It was the aftershock of her parents' death, she told herself, the trip, the exotic meal, this entirely strange scene here in this shower. She didn't know that it was, and she didn't know how to handle it. She just went on doing her aunt's bidding, washing that smooth white back, trying to define and fight the feelings in her. They were concentrated in her loins and breasts, and she felt as she sometimes had during recent shameful and confusing dreams. But this was real, or at least she thought it was. It would soon be over, she told herself. In a few minutes she'd be out of the big, hazy shower stall and securely wrapped in a towel, and from there it would only be a step to bed. She longed to be back on the farm, and yet at the same time she remained fascinated by all this luxury that was so new and wonderful to her.
"That's fine," said her aunt, and turning, took the soap from her.
She tried to tell her she could wash her face just fine by herself, but already Fern was lathering it up. Eyes tightly closed, new shivers went through her as the slick suds were worked into her neck and shoulders and arms. The soap was stinging her eyes, but then the sting was completely forgotten as she felt her aunt's hands laving her breasts with the heavy suds. She bit her lip and clenched her fists, for now the dreamy feelings were almost too strong. Perhaps it was a dream: she no longer knew. She did know that her nipples were hard as rocks, but far more sensitive than any rock, and it was getting even worse.
She yelped when one of them was pinched, and had to fall back against the wall. Her aunt called her a sissy, and began to wash her belly. It was a great relief at first, but then it seemed that her breasts were crying out for more of the luxurious washing and her loins were trying to shrink away from what was coming.
Fern had her leaning back against the wall, drunk and helpless and very hot. She knew how a rapist felt at that time, or more accurately, how a child molester felt, and accordingly, she sought for more of those feelings. She rubbed the bar harder around the virgin's loins, then dug her soapy hand roughly between the thighs and slipped her middle finger through the writhing girl's slit.
"Don't! Please!" Mary cried, and tried to push her away, for the strange feelings had suddenly become too intense to bear.
"Goddamnit, Mary, be quiet," said Fern, and felt again to be sure of the very womanly size of the girl's clitoris.
I can't stand this, Mary thought. Whatever is happening to my mind and body cannot be good, simply because it feels too good. I must stop it, but I don't know how! I can't stop her, for I am in her charge. Therefore, I must stop the good feelings in me ... if I can.
She almost collapsed with relief when the finger was taken from her vulva. The squeezings of Fern's hands on her legs were electrifying, but she could stand anything after having stood the washing of her slit. Then those hands came up again, to touch her everywhere they had before, again causing those wickedly good feelings she'd been introduced to during these last few very long minutes.
"Let's rinse you off now," said her aunt, shoving her back under the warm torrent. When she was able to open her eyes a little, there was Fern's face, inches before hers, devoid of make-up, grinning almost evilly, while her hands washed away the suds and made it harder than ever to fight down the hot feelings in herself..
When Fern got to her loins, she was even more vigorous with her finger, making it feel as if something was about to burst inside her. Again Mary pushed her away, sobbing now, saying, "Don't!"
"I am going to shut you up once and for all while I wash you!" Fern snapped, and, lathering her hand, she slapped it against Mary's mouth. The taste was awful, but she didn't even dare try to spit it out, nor could she bring herself to again try to stop her aunt's finger from working back and forth in her vulva. Misery and ecstasy became so tightly intermingled that she was unable to fight either of them, and she passed into a sort of stupor wherein her will was not her own.
The girl was red-hot. With foam drooling from her lolling mouth, she reminded Fern of a mad dog, and she expertly rubbed her distended clit harder to increase the madness. Her niece was working with her now, albeit unknowingly, squirming her ass against the tile wall and clutching at her tanned hips with both hands. She'd never gotten a female hot before, and it was wild. Even wilder, it was getting her hot too. Her breasts were touching the girl's and there was a very good tingle in her cunt, and her clit seemed to be stretching out of her labia. She used her finger more delicately, holding Mary right on the edge of an orgasm, and vividly recalling how orgasms had felt when she was eighteen. When it was just about to break, she took her hand from the girl's crotch and grabbed her by the chin, turning her face up to the water.
It was incredibly sweet, that water, and after rinsing her mouth with it, Mary drank some down. She was all buttery-soft and warm inside, in a state of euphoria where nothing at all mattered. Still it surprised her when Fern said, "Let's see if you got all the soap out," and kissed her on the mouth.
"Mmm-mmmm," Mary murmured, and tried to shake her head, for she vaguely knew it wasn't right for two women to kiss like that. It isn't even right to let a man put his gtongue in your mouth, she thought. But then that ringer was in her slit again, rubbing against her love bump, and the wonderful woman's silken-smooth body was against her and she was kissing her back in just the same way.
Fern didn't have to see her to tell when she began to come. The girl groaned deep in her throat and writhed more strongly against her, and her strong fingers dug into Fern's shoulders. She went on fingering and kissing her until it was nearing its peak, then bit Mary's tongue and turned away. She shut off the water and left the shower stall, hugely excited, with a curt command over her shoulder for Mary to follow.
Mary was acting drunker than ever while Fern rubbed her dry. Limp as a rag, grinning foolishly, even giggling, she allowed Fern to feel her and kiss her and pinch her anywhere she chose, still riding the crest of a sexual ecstasy that was quite unfamiliar to her. Fern felt all-powerful, and very lustful.
"Come along," she said, taking the girl's hand, and led her in a shambling, groggy walk to the master bedroom. She sat her on the corner of the bed and spread her legs, revealing the deep pink depths of her very wet, very inflamed cunt, and it took only a touch on Mary's chest to make her fall back on her back on the bed.
"Now hold your cunt open," Fern said, having a difficult time not throwing herself atop that perfectly beautiful, totally helpless body.
"My . . . cunt?" she blearily asked. "This," said Fern, and stooping, jammed her finger in her niece's vagina as far as it would go, right up to the little membrane which the girl no doubt held as her most precious possession.
"Gahhhh,'' she groaned, throwing her hips up at Fern's hand, stretching the taut labia as wide as they would go.
"You like that, do you?" "Yes? Can't help it. I do!"
"Do you . . . want me to lick it?" Fern hardly knew what she was saying by then.
"Anything! I don't care! Just make it feel like it did before."
"Goddamned fucking innocent slut," Fern growled, twisting, jabbing viciously with her finger, relishing every wanton thrusting of the tawny gold body at her disposal. "No better than I am at all," she said, and shoving harder still, succeeded in rupturing the precious tissue with her fingernail.
The girl screamed and tried to cover herself; Fern laughed out loud as she jabbed and ripped it all away. Blood appeared on those virginal loins, and with it came such feelings of mixed desires and compassion that now she did cover Mary's tormented body with hers, and began fucking her in the fashion of a lesbian, desperate to wash away the pain with just one complete, all-forgiving orgasm.
It came for Mary almost at once. Almost at once the pain of her loss was gone and she was fucking wildly back at Fern. Breast to breast, mouth to mouth, cunt to cunt, the totally inexperienced girl was proving herself to be the demanding one now. She was raking Fern's back with her nails, spurring her on with her heels, and rubbing her clit just as hard as she could against Fern's. Coming terrifically hard, she brought Fern right along with her, and for several intensely ecstatic minutes the pair of females gasped and thrust, shuddered and orgasmed, grinding their overflowing cunts together.
Once, twice, three times-once Fern started coming she feared she might never be able to stop, feared that the unbridled passions of this madly orgasming girl would infuse themselves so deeply in her that she would be the degraded one, the lesbian.
With a great effort of will, she wrenched away from the still-orgasming girl, lurched up on the bed, and threw her leg over the twisting, turning blonde head. She parted her heavy cunt-lips wide and mashed her sex down on the girl's mouth, commanding her to, "Lick it! Suck it!"
With no hesitation, Mary did so. Fern smiled down at the body before her, the blood-smeared loins sundered, the perfect form debased and sweaty with lust. Yes, she still had the girl in her power, for what that was worth. She could still make her do whatever she wanted her to, and apparently like it.
Apparently? God, the girl was loving it, quite literally eating it up. An orgasm rose anew in Fern, and with it a need for more. She plunged forward, not caring a whit that there was blood there, and gobbled and licked and sucked the virgin's cunt for all she was worth, pouring back every ounce of delirious pleasure that her niece was giving to her.
Long after, when Mary was in the guest bed, dressed in one of Fern's negligees, her aunt held a glass of creme de menthe to her kiss-bruised lips and said, "Drink, dear. It'll make you sleep. Do as Auntie says, dear. Auntie knows what's best for you. That's the good girl. Sip it all down, and tomorrow morning you won't remember anything of what happened this evening."
She sat there until Mary was asleep, smiling. Mary might not remember, but she certainly would. She went to have a drink and some thoughts before she went to bed, and hoped that Mitch and Lucy wouldn't come home and interrupt her before then.