Chapter 6
For a change, Fern woke up early, and as soon as she did she recalled each shameful detail of the lesbian experience she'd gone through the night before with her niece. How could she possibly have done those things? How in the name of God had Mary seduced her into such perversions? She still had the nasty, foul taste of hot pussy on her tongue, as well as a weird wort of crawling excitement in her cunt that she didn't like at all. She had to get rid of it, and even more important, she had to get rid of that phoney little angel that was her niece. Let the homosexual slut fend for herself until her inheritance came through, for Fern wanted no part of a girl with tendencies like those.
Mitch was softly snoring beside her, and looking at him, she felt even more unclean. She laid her hand on his very masculine body, and shuddered at the recollection of how that hand had somehow been led to caress Mary's body. That was unbelievable, but Mitch's body was very real, and very close. She slid her hand farther under the covers and found to her great delight that, as usual, he had a nice big early-morning erection. Without further ado, she threw back the covers and began sucking him off. It was not something she often did, and never when she was sober, but now the taste and feel of a cock in her mouth was absolutely delicious.
It was purging and purifying her and making the good feelings in her cunt all right and good, and she was hugely grateful for the presence of her naked young husband.
Mitch was dreaming that Lucy was blowing him, and it was a good dream. He smiled in his light sleep and could even feel her head with his hand, so real was the erotic dream. They were all alone in a big, luxurious bed, with Fern gone to Europe and no one to disturb them, and the way Lucy was going at it, she'd probably never stop.
He opened his eyes, and thrilled to the fact that the dream was real, then tingled with hot delight when he saw in the ceiling rnirror that it was his wife sucking him off.
"Oh, baby, what a way to wake up," he said, stroking her head.
"Mm-hmmm," she said, nodding her head, and in truth, doing a better job with her mouth than her daughter was yet capable of.
But it wouldn't be long, the way Lucy was going, before she was an expert cocksucker. He had been so thoroughly shocked when he'd entered that hotel room the night before, in answer to what he'd thought was Lucy's cry of distress, only to find her busily sucking off Nelson. He still didn't know who to believe. Nelson had at first said she'd forced her attentions on him, but then he'd more or less gone along with Lucy's insistent story that he'd coerced her into it. It really didn't matter, though. Actually, it was best for him if Lucy was making it with someone else he knew about, for then his conscience was entirely clear when it came to making out with her. But nothing mattered right now except this blow-job.
Grinning, the thought occurred to him that it was either feast or famine when it came to sex. Now that he'd succeeded in getting into Lucy's hot little pants, her mother was coming through with more sex, but somehow he'd manage to take care of both of them.
He wanted to just lie back and enjoy Fern's fine tongue-swirling techniques, but thought better of it. If he didn't reciprocate, Fern wouldn't like it a bit, and it would be a long time before she sucked him off again. He ran his hand over the backs of her thighs, drew his finger through the wet slit that creased the plumpness that bulged back from between them. She was on her knees to suck him, and he tried to pull her toward him and help her get her leg over his head so that he could have a taste of her before breakfast. She was very juicy.
"Let me eat you too, honey," he said. "Open up."
Her lips smacked loudly off the end of his very hard cock, and she panted, "No. I want you to fuck me, not eat me. Hurry, darling, I'm so ready."
She spread out on her back, helping him atop her, so very lovely and willing this morning. Christ, if she
8
was like that all the time, he'd have no need for Lucy. He slipped his spit-wet meat into her luscious cunt with ease, and right away she was coming pretty good, writhing and thrusting back at him, clutching at his shoulders and making open-throated moans of bliss that were very infectious. When she wanted to, she could really fuck, and for some reason this fine morning, she really wanted to fuck. He obliged, keeping pace with her until they grunted and groaned to a mutual climax that left them both smiling and sighing.
Fern felt good. She felt better than usual after a good orgasm, for Mitch's big cock had cleansed her of any taint of lesbianism brought on by her niece. He was still very deep inside her, milking additional orgasmic tinglings from her with his lips and hands, when the phone rang by the side of the bed. The light on the instrument went on, indicating that one of the servants had answered it. Then a few seconds later the light flashed to show that the call was for Fern.
"Let it go," Mitch said, enjoying the sweet warmth of her.
"I'd better answer it. Marty Nestor's been trying to reach me. Just hand it to me, dear."
It was her attorney and financial advisor, and she spoke to him without breaking the flesh-to-flesh connection with Mitch.
"Where in the world have you been, Fern? I've been trying frantically to reach you."
"I've been busy. What's on your mind?"
"Your affairs, your investments, as always. I've got some very serious news for you, Fern."
Her pussy seemed to close, and Mitch's cock suddenly felt most uncomfortable in it. She pushed his hand from her breast and said, "What is' it?"
"It's that two hundred acres you placed an option on in Connecticut. They want you to exercise the option now or they're going to sell it to someone else. General Electric just bought the land next to it and the value of property all over there is going sky-high."
"That's wonderful!" she said, and squeezed Mitch's cock with her pussy.
"No, it's not. You haven't got the cash to put into it."
"Well, sell some of my stock."
"At these depressed prices? You'd take a helluva beating, Fern. As it is, you've got thirty days to come up with three hundred thousand dollars, or else you'll miss out on something like half a million dollars profit on that land. Have you got the cash?"
"You know I don't, she said, irritably pushing Mitch off her now, greatly vexed.
"Then I'd better sell some stock and..."
"No! There must be another way. Let me think." She snapped her fingers and pointed at her cigarettes, and Mitch lit one for her. Exhaling a deep lungful, she said, "Leave the room, Mitch." When he was gone, she said, "How much is Indiana farmland worth?"
"I don't know. If it's good land, probably around a thousand an acre. Why?"
"So I could probably get a loan of at least three hundred thousand on four thousand acres, if I had control of it."
"Easily. But since when did you have land in Indiana?"
"I don't, yet. But I will. Tell them ni be picking up the option. And send me a Power of Attorney form. Ill talk to you later."
As she finished her cigarette, she formulated a plan. Mary was already physically in her power, and with the help of Mitch she could be emotionally in her control as well. Between them, they could get her to sign that paper, and Mitch would unquestioningly do as she told him. She called him back in the room.
"How would you like to make love to Mary?"
"What? You must be joking. I wouldn't like it at all."
"I'm not joking, and you would like it. And, my dear, I want you to do it."
"Oh, come on, Fern; Cut it out."
"I'm serious, Mitch. It means a lot to me. I want you to make love to her. She's a good-looking girl, without her funny farm clothes, and it wouldn't be unpleasant work."
"I suppose I'd do it if there was a reason, but I certainly wouldn't like it. What's it all about, anyway?"
"I'll tell you when there's a need for you to know. But now, right now, I want you to go to the guest room and make love to her."
"All the way?"
"In every way. Force her if you have to, but do it. Now."
Mary awoke late, headachey and stiff. She had no idea where she was, for a while, nor how she had gotten into the shockingly thin nightgown. The big bed, the frilly bedroom, all her surroundings seemed as unreal as the awful dreams she'd had. She was sure she was coming down with the flu, for her forehead felt hot and dry and the taste in her mouth was dreadful. Even her loins were tender. She felt herself under the covers, and the familiar touch of her private parts wasn't quite there. Her labia were swollen as well as tender, and she was more than a little wet there.
She blushed, knowing that she's scratched at herself there during the course of those terrible dreams she'd had about herself and her aunt, doing unbelievably disgusting things together. The sickness that was in her body was unlike any she'd ever known, and she began to silently pray for deliverance from it, since she could certainly never describe its symptoms to any doctor. With her hands tightly clenched on top of the covers, she fervently asked for God's help in removing the demons from her body and in quelling the irritating little itch between her legs.
The door opened, and she drew the covers up about her neck as she gazed wide-eyed at her Uncle Mitch, smiling at her as he closed the door behind him. He had a tray in his hand and she tried not to look below that, for all he had on, apparently, was a satin bathrobe that came down to his knees, and she'd never even seen a man's bare calves before, not even her father's.
"Sleep well?" he said, and she drew the covers up to her chin as he advanced toward the bed. "I brought you a little breakfast."
Tm not hungry," she said in a thin, squeaky voice. Indeed, she was hungry, but she had to get him out of there. A nice girl just didn't have a man in her bedroom, not even her uncle, and with that handsome young smile, he didn't seem at all like a relative just then. He had to leave, at once.
But he set the tray on the night stand and sat right down on her bed, and to add immensely to her embarrassed consternation, placed his hand on her knee. She could feel the warmth of it clear through the covers, and much as she wanted to, she couldn't squirm away from it because his grip was strong. He squeezed it, sending an electric shock up through her, and altered her blush from pink to scarlet by saying, "You're looking awfully pretty this morning, Mary."
"You'd better go, please. I've got to get up. Where are my things? Where are my glasses?" she said, agonized with embarrassment, and scared half to death now, for what would her aunt think if she came in and found him there?
"Have some tomato juice," he said, and to her immense relief, took his hand from her leg to fill a glass from the pitcher.
She drank, for she was terribly thirsty, and before she'd swallowed the first mouthful of the very over-spiced juice, his hand was back on her leg. The juice was so spicy that it made her eyes water, and she was already almost crying with embarrassment. He was looking at her in a most un-unclelike way, and his robe had fallen open from his thigh to expose even more of his leg. Was he trying to do something to her? Impossible, unthinkable. And yet the thought was there, brought on, no doubt, by her shameful dreams and the feverish state they'd left her in.
"That's enough juice," she said. "Would you put this glass back on the tray and leave, please?"
"Finish it," he said, still smiling, and squeezed her leg a little higher.
Hot as it was, she gulped it down-anything to get rid of him-and repeated her request, stiff as a board under the covers. She had to go to the bathroom, but above all, she had to get him out of there.
"Yes, you're really a very lovely girl," he said, and to her absolute horror, ran his hand on up her legs and squeezed her on the hip.
"Don't do that! Let me alone! Get out of here!" she cried, all in a panic now, trying to kick his hand away and hide beneath the covers.
"Don't I get a kiss for bringing you your breakfast?" he said, and reached for her with both hands.
"No! Mmph!"
Her protest was cut off with a kiss. She tried to twist away from it and still hold the covers up, and he laughed and held her by the shoulders and kissed her throat and ears as well as her futilely protesting mouth. He was terrifically strong and she couldn't hold him off with all her farm-bred strength. Her impulse was to scream, but she didn't dare summon any member of the household to be witness to these terrible advances of her uncle, and so she pleaded to him in urgent whispers.
"Let me alone. Stop it, Mitch! I won't have you doing this. Don't touch me like that!"
"Just give me a kiss and maybe 111 leave you be, honey."
"No! This isn't right!"
"Loosen up. Relax. A kiss won't hurt you."
"All right," she said, and went limp. It was her only choice. She squinted her eyes shut and pursed her lips, and his arm slipped around her shoulders and his very warm mouth covered hers. Almost unbearably uncomfortable, she counted up to twenty while he was doing it, and then was panting for breath the instant he released her. She said, "You've got to go now."
"That was no kiss, and I'm not leaving till I get one. Open your mouth this time, damn it."
"No, I. . ."
He caught her this time with her mouth open, and when his tongue lanced in between her lips, all the shame of her awful dreams returned and she had to push at him and try to twist away again. He easily bore her down on her back and held her there, still kissing her, while through her mind ran dreadfully shameful feelings and emotions. As he kissed her and tried to choke her with his tongue, she grew faint from lack of breath, and when she at last had to draw in a big lungful of air through her nostrils, it made her dizzy.
"You're improving," he said, "but slowly. Once you get turned-on, you might be as hot a piece as Fern."
"If you don't stop this minute and get out of here, I'll call her. I will, Mitch."
"One more kiss, and put something into it this time. Make like you enjoy it, and I just might go."
Angrily now, she slung her arms about his neck and dragged him into one of those kisses she'd seen on a neighbor's television. It would surely make him leave. Repugnant as it was, she used her tongue in imitation of his, and she felt the rigid strength go out of him as if he was becoming manageable once again. She let the kiss dwell, for she wanted him to have no more excuses to stay, and she did her best to act as if she was indeed enjoying it.
That wasn't really so hard to do, for it wasn't altogether unpleasant now that he wasn't being so insanely demanding. She tried to concentrate on her acting, and not think about her her thinly covered body really wanting to move against his. With her arms about his neck, the covers were down far enough so that there was very little between his chest and her breasts. Her breasts were being mashed down by his weight on her and they felt very swollen and full, the nipples hard and burning. Her loins felt all fidgety and even warmer and wetter than before, and she tried to combat this by squeezing her thighs tightly together, while the kiss went on and on. It was awful having another person's tongue against hers, but still there was a strange flavor about it that she found shamefully compelling, and she couldn't help thinking how sweet such kisses might be once she was wed to the man of her dreams. She lost count of the seconds that the kiss lasted, and for a time she thought that it might never end, but then she could pant for breath again through her swollen and tingling lips as he lowered his mouth to the hollow of her throat and nuzzled there like a starving lamb.
"All right. I did it," she whispered. "Now, go. Go before somebody comes, and don't you ever dare to come back again!"
He straightened up, and through the mists of confusion she watched in horror as he undid the sash of his robe, shrugged it off his shoulders, and exposed himself to her, saying, "How do you expect me to leave now, when you've got my cock so big and hard?'*