Chapter 8
A few days went by without a ripple of activity. It rained for much of the time and the girls spent a good part of the day either at school or studying for exams. Also Richard was home for two days with a cold, and his presence was enough to put the damper on anything I might have had planned. I didn't mind, though. The painting of the four women was on the way, and in the privacy of my room I worked on it whenever I had a moment.
It was while I sat staring at the painting one day that Jean knocked and asked if she could interrupt me for a few minutes. I motioned for her to come inside but kept her waiting while I figured out how to balance the chromatic correlations. "Let me jot something down," I said, lighting up a cigarette with the butt of the other one. "How do you like the painting so far?"
"That's us!" she exclaimed. "Was that what we looked like to you, Uncle John? Boy, I hope Daddy doesn't see that. He doesn't know we swim in the nude while he's at work."
"I'll just say it's artistic license. What's on your mind, Jean?"
"Well ... this is going to sound funny to you, me being a sexologist and all ... but I really need to talk with someone about this problem I'm having with my friend. And I can't talk about this with my mother, John, she just wouldn't be able to understand. I mean, she's very liberal and she'd want to understand—but how could she accept that I'm gay?"
"You are?"
"Yes, quite definitely," she said firmly. "I can tell you're not taking me seriously, but I've subjected myself to every test that can be devised and there's no getting around the facts. Ma doesn't know this and it really bothers me that I can't tell her. If I could I wouldn't have to waste your time with my problems. But I have to unload it somehow, and I know you're a man of the world."
"Go ahead, but first tell me how you know you're gay," I said.
"Because I tried to make love with a guy and I hated it," she answered, "whereas in boarding school I used to love going to bed with the other girls. Now I know that isn't conclusive, but I've been with more than one man, and none of them can make me feel anywhere near as good as the most inept girl I've known. Besides, it started so long ago. When I was ten my girl friend and I used to go into the attic and play with each other.
"When I was sent to boarding school I had no trouble getting along with the senior girls. They made me strip in their rooms and do all sorts of disgusting things to them, but I loved it. And when they realized they weren't punishing me by making me play with myself in full view of everyone they let me join their clique. We had some great times after lights-out and on afternoons set aside for sports when we'd all go into the woods and smoke cigarettes and swim in the nude." Jean sighed wistfully and I could tell she was right back at school, cavorting with her lewd little playmates.
"Yes, it's fun then and I can see why you'd be nostalgic," I said, "but you're twenty now and you're supposed to have outgrown that sort of stuff."
"Well that's just it!" she exclaimed. "When I started college this guy began to follow me around. He pestered me until I went out with him and after a few dates I got to like him, and I thought, right, this is the guy who's going to show me the other side of the coin. I'll never forget it ... in the back of his car, and I was so nervous that I couldn't get wet no matter how much he fingered me. Finally he put some cream on his dick and pushed it inside me. It hurt a lot and he was finished in no time."
"No wonder you don't like men," I said, "if you think he's the personification of manhood."
"Oh no, I know other men are much better lovers, John. I've read that and experienced it But you know something, no man can love a woman the way a woman can. Men are hairy and their flesh is knotted and hard; their passions peak suddenly and violently, they turn into savages for ten, fifteen minutes, and then they lose interest. It's not like that with women. We're soft all over, our sex is hidden and mysterious, and we flow with our passions, moving up and down like rolling waves, and once we get started there's no need to ever stop."
"I must admit it sounds ideal. Okay, so you're gay. So what?"
"That's the whole point. For the past couple of months I've been having a really hard time with my lover, Donna. She's a very dominating person and she's bisexual. She has a male friend, a big bruiser with the brain of a peanut, and she wants the three of us to sleep together. I don't think that's right but I don't want to make her angry, so all I do is postpone the moment. Either I'm having my period or its a yeast infection, anything to avoid letting that big lug touch me! At first I hoped she'd forget, but no such luck. Donna is really pushing the idea, and her dumb friend is after me for it, too. What can I do, John? It all seems so crazy to me!"
"You could leave her." I wasn't thinking too hard about her actual problem because I didn't believe she was gay. A girl who could blow as well as she did in her sleep was anything but female-orientated.
"No, she'd kill me—and I love her!" That last phrase was tacked on hurriedly, as though the oversight had alarmed her. "Some women are congenital lesbians and that's that. I'm one of them. The sight of a penis just appalls me." She shrugged and stared at the floor.
"It's strange that you should say that," I said, and then I told her exactly what she had done to me in her sleep. As she listened her eyes grew wider and wider, and at the end of my story she let out a sigh of disbelief.
"You're making it up! I know I sleepwalk sometimes but I'd never do anything like that!"
"Would you like me to produce a witness?"
"A witness?" She looked at me narrowly and shook her head. "You had a woman in the room with you when I entered?"
"That's right—Lora." I kept my face expressionless and observed her reactions closely. She went through a number of changes and finally she grabbed my cigarettes and lit one with trembling hands.
"This is all too much for me. Lora and you went to bed together? But she was a virgin, and besides, you're a blood relative! Oh boy, ever since you arrived this house has gone crazy."
"I don't think it's my doing but the score stands as follows: your mother has the hots for me, Cindy is fixated on her daddy and daddy reciprocates in his own repressed fashion. As if that isn't enough, Cindy doesn't find sex very interesting with men other than her father, but she and Lora make a great team. Lora, of course, enjoys sex now but she's very jealous, and I am now high up on her shitlist for paying more attention to Cindy than to her. Now you tell me you're gay, but you gave me the greatest blow job in the history of mankind the other night, and so I believe you've got more going for you than you suspect"
"Holy shit!" She lit another cigarette because she'd forgotten about the one between her lips. For several minutes she smoked one, then the other, too busy thinking to pay any attention to what she was doing. "I know about Ma. She's been trying to get into your bed ever since you arrived, and I can't say I blame her. Daddy's the classical case of an over-achiever who keeps no reserve for the bedroom. But my sisters ... Wow, that really is a surprise!"
"There's one consolation," I said flippantly. "You can do your doctoral thesis on your own family."
"Very funny. What are we going to do, though, Uncle? Do you have any ideas?"
"I don't have any about your sisters. I have a very specific one about your mother. Richard is a lost soul but I think he's more on the ball than most of us would think—and as for you, I have a good one! It seems to me you want to make love your way. Very well, you can do it your way as long as you call the shots."
"What do you mean?"
"You're with this woman because she makes love to you the way you like it; but you don't have to stay with her just because she has the recipe. You can go to bed with anyone if you're smart enough and get exactly what you want. All you have to do is tell them in one way or another. And who knows, maybe it'd cure your sleepwalking." She flushed deeply and thought it over for a few minutes. I let her take all the time she wanted.
"Theoretically, then, you could make me feel as good as my women friends,' she said hesitantly.
"In practice, too."
And late that evening she came back to my room. I'd been expecting her and when she walked in I asked her if she was asleep. "No, I'm wide awake this time, John," she said nervously. She sat on the bed and tried to compose herself. "I want to see if you can do it," she said, and with that she moved toward me and I took her into my arms. Even though I had hardly been starved for sex over the past few months, her presence thrilled and aroused me instantly. I'd often glanced at her big rounded ass and those beautifully shaped breasts, and just as often I had wondered what the rest of her was like to caress and fondle. Our brief encounter in the pool had merely whetted my appetite. Now I intended to satisfy it. The fact that Diane wasn't there didn't bother me for a moment. I would get the two of them together somehow—later. For now I wanted only to please my oldest niece.
I kissed her gently and pressed her to me, taking care not to force her. She was trembling and tense, and the smallest slip would make her bolt. Her dark hair caressed my face, her soft lips brushed past mine, and the softness of her body brought a new kind of hardness to my cock. It was hard to lay back when all I wanted to do was rape! But she was my niece and I owed her an extra effort. "You're very lovely," I said softly as I went on kissing her face. "Any man you want you can have, you know that, don't you?"
"You're just saying that," she demurred but she inclined more toward me. I cuddled her like a baby and kissed her hair and neck, and an impartial observer wouldn't have seen much wrong in what this uncle was doing to his brother's daughter. But my intentions grew more evil by the second. Her heaving breasts, that little jelly belly, and those big firm cheeks stretching out the seat of her jeans, those were the features that made my cock throb. And then she looked so much like her mother physically, that same generous flesh, the same easy curves. My hands glided over the contours of her body and she stiffened at once.
"Take it easy," I said. "We've got all night, lots of time in which to acquaint ourselves with each other." She nodded and moved so that she had her back to me and rested in my arms much in the way one sits in an easy chair. My arms were folded over her breasts but I couldn't get my hands on them without making a definite move, and so I sat there trapped by my own friendliness. Minutes slipped by. She snuggled up against me and closed her eyes. I was starting to get bored and I felt sure she was dropping off to sleep. But to make a move would mean to break the spell. I fought my irritation back and turned off the light. If she wanted to sleep on it, that's what we would do.
In the dark I brought her around to face me and now our loins pressed together. But she breathed regularly and her legs moved convulsively now and then, a sure sign that she was falling asleep. Maybe it was better that way. She was a lot hotter asleep than awake. So I waited, taking advantage of her unconsciousness to caress her full body and finding myself enjoying this semi-necrophiliac exercise. She didn't respond at all but I stroked her breasts and ass and became very hard.
She had on jeans and a blouse, and when I unbuttoned her top she didn't stir. I caressed the taut globes of flesh bulging out of her bra cups with a single finger, letting it skate about there until I was sure she was fast asleep. Then I took her blouse right off, working slowly and carefully, and unsnapped her bra. I had to go by touch alone but that was plenty for me. I took her breasts in both hands and kneaded them purely for my own pleasure. Her flesh was resilient and springy, the kind that made me want to squeeze her tits right off, and her nipples were high up on the mounds. I stroked both of them into hardness and paused briefly to take off my clothes.
I hadn't been this excited in days! Jean snored softly and lay on her back, allowing me to kiss and fondle her tits to my heart's content. But even as I reveled in her flesh my hands were already working on her jeans, and when they were undone I eased them over her hips and down her legs. Now we were both naked in the dark. It seemed ironic to me that the sleepwalking lover should get her reward while she herself slept.
I moved in between her legs and ran the tips of my fingers along her hairy triangle, teasing myself into lusting for her cunt. It was right under that hairy pelt, passive, innocent, and I could do what I wanted with it! I felt like a kid let loose in a candy store. My hand brushed aside her hair and the index finger moved in to touch the split in her flesh. I held it there and waited for a reaction. A lot of women tended to cover their pussies if touched there in their sleep. Not Jean. She sighed in her sleep, smacked her lips faintly, and resumed her steady breathing. My finger pushed in deeper, plumbing her pussy and looking for moisture. She was a little moist but far from wet. I knew how to fix that.
My legs were half off the bed by the time I got settled between her thighs and I had to hang on to her ass to stop myself from sliding off altogether, but it was the ideal position in which to bring moisture to her innards. My tongue flicked out and ran over the curve of her cunt flesh. It only needed a slight push to dip into her honey pot, and I picked up enough of a taste to give me a yearning for more. Jean mightn't know it but she was a fully qualified woman.
I gave my tongue a free rein and it slithered about between her lips, digging in, tracking down her clitoris and working it over, sipping her juice, and circling her pussy. She was getting wetter by the minute and that was all the incentive I needed to keep going. But I did want to see her at this stage. I had tasted and touched to the limit; it was time to shed some light on the subject The faint light I turned on let me see the lot, but it also made her groan, frown, and turn over onto her belly.
That stymied me but only for a second. Her big ass lay before me, two big patties of soft flesh, and when I began to kiss her there I found as much pleasure in that as in any other activity. I kissed her ass all over, but then gravitated toward the magic split, my tongue working hard, my face pushing down on it so that her cheeks parted and I was able to get at her sweaty valley. All I had to do then was slide my hands under her thighs and lift her an inch or so off the bed, and there it was, her cunt in all its glory.
I went down on her and stayed down, sucking at those pink petals and slurping up her juice. A lot of it came down for some reason and not a drop of it went wasted. Her pussy was beautiful from my point of view, bursting out from its hairy borders like a sunrise, all pink and gleaming and folded so as to protect her interior. But my tongue slipped past the barrier and lolled about inside her silk-walled cave, tasting the strong mixture of flavors in there and satisfying strange, primitive demands in me. I burrowed into her cunt, nuzzled her asshole, fingered her flesh, and lost myself in the plenitude of her body. Whether the girl was still asleep or not was a matter of indifference to me; her body was my sole concern.
The moment had come to polish off this passive dish of female delights. I moved up and rested my belly on her ass, using it as a guide for my stiff cock. The tip of it touched her wet, hairy maw and her flesh offered no resistance at all. I had eaten her so thoroughly that my spit alone would have been enough of a lubricant. But in her sleep she had managed to secrete enough juice to drench her pubic hair. Soft, slithering flaps of flesh wrapped around my cock and rubbed it the right way, and I let it inch in very leisurely. In the dim light her back took on a sensual luster, her hair spread about her head like a chestnut halo, and the sensation of her billowing cheeks against my belly made me want to pillage her pussy, but I stuck to the same easy pace.
"What's happening?" she said sleepily. She turned around to see who I was, and as the sleep disappeared from her eyes she realized what I was doing to her. "Oh no! Uncle John, you're not ... You're doing it to me! How could you! That's just not fair!"
"Sssshhhhh," I said. "Don't wake me up, I'm sleepwalking."
"That's not funny," she said, but she smiled in spite of herself. A little while later she saw more than humor in the situation. "You know, that feels rather good," she said, shifting a little to make me more comfortable inside her. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"Half an hour, an hour maybe," I said, working my cock in and out at a snail's pace, "And I've spent every, minute of it making love to you. I stripped you and kissed you all over, I've eaten you till it hurt my face, and you've been terrific all the way through. I never saw such a beautiful cunt, such great tits, and talk about a woman getting wet! Wow, you must have been storing all that juice up for years!"
"Oh don't talk like that!" she exclaimed, shivering briefly. "It makes me feel so weird. Did you really do all those things, John? Did you take advantage of me?"
"Did I ever. You taste great, too. Anyway, I know you didn't sleep all the way through it No girl can resist a tongue in her pussy. Tell the truth, you could feel me sucking the nectar out of you, couldn't you ?"
"I swear I didn't Oooooaaaaahhhh, oh that feels strange! You're so big inside me, Uncle John, but so gentle. Did you think I was terrible for falling asleep on you? I couldn't help it, you know, you made me feel so relaxed. But I don't feel like that now! Oh dear, what is going on down there!"
"Nothing at all. Now lie still and let your uncle take you to the peaks. How does it feel to have your breasts fondled? Do you like me to tickle your clitoris? You let me know and I'll do it For tonight I'm your sexual smorgasbord."
She shivered again but remained silent as I played with her breasts and stroked her rounded buns. Her face was buried in the pillow and her arms were wrapped around it, but the rest of her body was actively engaged in fucking. She kept her ass up and moved it whenever she wanted my cock to come in from one side or the other. And when I grabbed her tits she made room for my hands. "Lift up higher," I whispered. "I want them to dangle down!" She obeyed at once and her tits came to rest in the palms of my hands, loose but firm, soft but solid. Jean was on all fours now and I rested my torso on her back so I could play with her tits and fuck her at the same time. My cock was a piston, sliding in and out without much ado. But those tits got the full treatment. I cupped them, squeezed them, pinched the nipples, and she responded beautifully.
"It's so nice," she quivered. "Push it in deeper, John! You fit me so perfectly!" I released her tits and reached down around her, groping about in her wet, warm bush while my back worked to shove my cock in harder and faster. Now we were getting somewhere! She began to shake and twitch in response to all that was happening in her cunt. "Yes, that's good," she whispered hoarsely. "Do it harder now, I want to see what that's like. Be a savage, John, fuck me!"
"Leave it to me," I said with a grin, and at that I pulled my cock almost out of her cunt, paused for a split second, and rammed it up her with so much force that she collapsed and fell forward. I hadn't expected that, and my cock was left out in the cold for as long as it took her to scramble back up. She turned around to see where my cock was in relation to her cunt and quickly screwed herself back on so I could take up fucking again. The next thrust was expected. She took it with a grunt, and the others that followed bounced off her without her giving an inch. Now I began to earn my keep. The urge to blow had to be overcome each time; my cock had to stay hard and true, and my beat had to be constant—at least until she came for the first time. She wasn't far from it Her breathing was erratic and shallow, sometimes her inhalations sounded a little hysterical, and her moans grew louder by the minute, My cock pounded at her insistently and my hands rubbed her cunt and tweaked her clitoris.
"Oh God, this can't be true," she groaned, bucking under me and struggling to stay in position. "No one ever made me feel this way, John, only you. I love what you're doing, I love you, harder John, harder, I can't get enough! Oh my goodness, listen to my box, I've never been so wet! Slow down for a minute, just let me get a breath of air ... Ah, that's enough, let's go!"
I leaned back and watched my cock take running jumps into her sloshing pussy. My hands rested on her quivering buttocks and my back hurt. It had been going on for too long. Jean was just scaling the heights; I could have climbed Mt. Everest three times over in the same period. And so my mind wandered away, back to Tazu and all her delicious ways of making me feel great, to Julie, to all the women in my past who had enjoyed giving as much as taking. There Were two types of females in this world, I thought, girls and women. Girls took because they didn't know how to give. And women were able to give as well as take in the right doses, letting their men ride the range when they felt virile, indulging them when they felt wrung out. Women knew that they got more out of sex than men ever could, and so they shared their climaxes with the men who had produced them. Women sprang surprises when they were welcome, and set sex aside when their men couldn't make it. But girls! I couldn't for the life of me understand why men lusted after girls, even though those lusting men included me. It was like putting money into a bottomless pit rather than a bank account. I looked at Jean under me and wondered why it was such a big deal to fuck her. She was a learner, a tight pussy, nothing more.
Some anger mixed with my lust to produce a passion, and that moved me to fuck harder, less considerately. Jean was too far gone to notice. She bucked under me, moaned and sighed, cooed and carried on, and I went for broke. That felt better, slamming my dick into her, grabbing hold of her tits as though they were reins, slamming my dick deep into her wet cunt and listening to the deep slurps when I withdrew. Fuck all girls, I thought, fuck them right where it feels best. I squeezed her cheeks together and put pressure on my dick, enough to take me over the crest and right into an explosive climax.
I stayed hunched over her for a minute and then I eased my dick out and lay flat on my back. "Light me a cigarette," I said. Jean hurried to accommodate me, and when I had filled my lungs with smoke I looked over at her and asked how she liked it.
"Terrific," she said without reservation. "I think I can make that threesome now, and it's all because you got me past the barriers. Thanks, Uncle John, you're the greatest."
"So they say," I said, and suddenly I wanted to get out of my brother's house. I didn't belong here, these women weren't my kind, the rooms were wrong, the interior decoration vulgar. It was time to go.