Chapter 6
Funny things get into my mind when I'm sailing alone. I find myself no longer caring about anything what-so-ever and that afternoon was no different. In the course of doing all that had to be done to keep the boat going, I let myself forget all that had happened over the past week, including, especially I think, all the things that had resurrected between Estelle and myself. Yet I found that it was only with some concentration that I could recall Ginger and her lovely mouth and her wildly passionate way with me between her legs. She seemed as distant as the shore that had fallen rapidly away from me the previous afternoon.
I hadn't intended it, but then when it came I no longer cared about being back. I sailed out farther than I should have and let the evening calm luff my sails. It was a good time to just fuck everything and be by myself. And that's what I did. I drank a few beers, being careful to keep a few for later when I knew that I would need them. But for the time I was just happy to be drifting aimlessly in mid-channel with no wind and no inclination at all to fire up the inboard engine. I decided that I could drop sail and put an anchor over and sleep. It was the best sleep that I had had since I returned to the Parker estate. Not that it lasted that long. It didn't. A few hours, but even that short time was enough to make me refreshed and ready to face my sister, and, ultimately, Myer and his contingent of lawyers and bankers.
Sometime around two in the morning, I fired up the engine and powered back to the boathouse. tying up in the still darkness and wondering if my day-long absence had put too many people to much strain.
Ginger was waiting for me when I came into my room. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, fully dressed and wearing a very worried expression. I shrugged and thought that she was probably upset by my not coming to her room the might before, but then I remembered that she had been pretty well out of it and felt a sense of relief I had almost had a twinge of guilt about the night with Estelle and the presence of Ginger in my room made it hit me right in the gut, not, as it should have, in the gonads.
"I'm glad you're back," she said, her expression changing slightly to something more cheerful. "I was worried about you."
"Been sailing. Forgot the time and then I ran out of wind," I replied, kicking off my deck shoes and peeling out of my tee-shirt and slacks. And that struck me as being very funny, stripping in front of my step-sister, I mean. It wasn't even forty-eight hours since I had first met her and we were ... what? Lovers? I cancelled that from my thinking. I hardly knew the girl, even though I knew her very well physically.
Ginger made no move to get out of my room, even when I had finally gotten down to my jockey shorts and hesitated to take them off in front of her. She smiled a little weakly and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke over her head almost in a gesture of distaste of the stuff, but classically enough to make it look very sophisticated, almost too much so.
"I was worried about you until I saw you leaving in your boat. Didn't you hear me call?"
"When?" I knew what she was talking about, but I figured that playing dumb was the best out.
"You were already going, but I thought that you'd hear me."
"I would have answered," I lied.
"I heard something this morning while you were still sleeping," she said, rising for the first time since I had entered the room. "Something terrible is going to happen," she added and stood a few feet in front of me as I waited in my shorts.
"Your sister wants to kill you," she said. I had already turned away from Ginger when she said it, on my way for a towel for my shower. I heard the words all right, but they sounded dumb, almost as dumb as Estelle's had the night before when she asked me to relinquish control of the various companies.
"Are you nuts?" I managed to say, still turned to her and not immediately able to tell what kind of expression of terror she was wearing. And I meant it, too. I thought that two a.m. ideas of fratricide just a bit hard to take. I grabbed the reluctant towel from the stack in the linen closet and turned back to face her.
She was trembling and for an instant I was almost certain that what she was talking about might have been right, but then I remembered how she had gotten so stoned the night before and smiled reassuringly at her.
"Forget it, Ginger," I said, walking over to her and putting my arms over her shoulders. "There's nothing to worry about. My sister is almost like a mother to me. If anything, she is probably more elated about my getting the responsibilities of the family business than she lets on. I think that she overreacted yesterday, probably a land of protective thing because she knows that I couldn't possibly handle the business without her. And neither could you. We need her and she wants to help us. I'd bet on it."
Ginger shook her head and began sobbing. I could feel her start to tremble all over again, but her sobs simply racked her body. There was no sound from her lips. I held her for another long moment, pressing her ample charms close to my near naked body and felt that familiar surge of passion tighten my stomach muscles. But I resisted the temptation as I led her back to my bed and sat her down.
"Relax," I said and went over to the cabinet for a shot of brandy. She took the drink hesitantly but managed a smile when I patted her on the top of the head and went into the bathroom for my shower.
I was glad for the hot spray of water and let it beat out some of the fatigue of the day and night before, soaping luxuriously and rinsing slowly, allowing my aching frame to soak up the warmth of the water and letting myself relax. Sensuous perhaps,but then I always preferred a hot shower to a cold one. I felt that I would be able to sleep a lot better. I always had before.
Ginger was almost out of my mind by the time I came out of the bathroom, and she should have been, for I didn't see her when I first came out. I was already beginning to relax and there she was, scrunched down under the sheets of my bed. Even though only her nose and eyes were visible I knew she was naked underneath the sheet. The contours of her body were not denied under that flimsy fabric, although it was obvious that she had tried to make herself very small in my bed. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't sleeping any more than I was. And I knew that I would let her go then, even though I was pretty beat.
I went over and fixed myself a drink which I took back to my bedside table and sipped slowly before pulling the cover back to expose my stepsister's lush body. Even though I had been there before I still had to admire its lush contours, the high rise of her full tits and the warm black triangle at the apex of her long legs. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at me.
"Lock the door, Kevin," she whispered. "Please lock the door."
I nodded and did what she wanted, walking back to the bed slowly in order to better admire her body, which she had not bothered to cover after I had revealed it. But she did close her eyes again, perhaps because she knew that I was devouring every square inch of her warm flesh from her throat down her sleek torso over and under her full breasts and finally into the thick black thatch of her pubic hair.
That she was delicious looking was apparent; that I was almost too tired to do something about it was also obvious. Even though my mind raced along libidinous lines, my cock hung limply between my legs. Yet my mind was awake, and if my dong wasn't ready I knew that Ginger was more than ready and, remembering what she had done for me after the funeral, I knew that I would do something for her itching crotch.
I ignored my drink as I crawled between her legs, parting them gently and then pushing her firm soft thighs back until they were almost pressed against the sheet. She never resisted for a moment and I knew that she was helping me when I had her opened as wide as I could, her pink flesh cunt already damp in expectation. I was still not hard, but I was feeling horny as hell and at the same time sort of removed from what I was about to do. I felt that I had all the time in the world to eat her cunt, but before I did that I kissed her soft fleshed thighs, the backs of her knees and her tight flat belly. Then I took her toes into my mouth, sucking them as she might have sucked my cock, as, indeed, she had sucked my prick. I held her toes locked in the soft vise of my hps, never once letting that tender and ticklish flesh come in contact with my teeth. My saliva rinsed her toes and I felt myself stirring even before I wrapped my hot tongue around the slim appendages of her foot. She squealed in delight and I sucked on until she forced my head away and guided me down between her hot thighs and into the heady dampness of her cunt. My tongue was sticking out to meet her clit even before I made contact with her hot crevice and I knew that what I was doing was so right for her. Her legs crushed around my head and her heels dug into my shoulder blades. I licked her twat and she responded like a madwoman, her moans soft but deep and coming from the very soul of her being.
She surprised me by coming as quickly as she did, thrusting her round ass high off the mattress and nearly breaking my neck and crying out aloud once. When she finally released my head from her erotic embrace I was wet with the taste of her, her juices having run down my chin. Yet I didn't care and I felt no discomfort even as her flow began to dry on my face. When I moved up to her side, she was already sitting up and waiting for me with my drink in her hand.
"Oh, god, you eat cunt like no other man has eaten me," she whispered.
I took my drink and was pleasantly surprised to find that the ice had not completely melted. Ginger said nothing more, letting her smile of satisfaction tell me all that she wanted me to know. As soon as she handed me my "drink, she slipped down to the foot of the bed and took my half-hard cock between her warm, wet lips and sucked me hard and then harder until I shot my load satisfyingly deep into the back of her throat. In a sense it was doubly satisfying, one to be sucked as expertly as she did and two to see her cheeks puff and her neck slide Up and down as she swallowed my come. And a third reason, too, perhaps, as I was enjoying my drink the whole time and the effort of lovemaking was all on her part.
When she finally released my cock from her hot mouth and collapsed on the mattress I got up and made her another drink. I was sure that she was exhausted by what we had just done with each other and I knew that in a very short time I would be climbing back between her thighs and humping her hot and hard for the remainder of the night. She had revitalized me.
"Drink up," I said, offering her another brandy. She nodded and took the drink, sipping it slowly for a minute and then putting it aside. "I meant what I said before," she said*
"What?"
"About something terrible," she said, looking at me again with that same expression of fear. "I heard Estelle and somebody in the garage this morning. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I really didn't and I would have stopped the conversation but I became too scared to let myself be known. So I had to wait and I heard."
"What did they say? And what the hell were you doing in the garage?"
"I wanted to borrow a car, but when I didn't see anyone around, I just wandered in and then I heard her voice. She was saying something like 'it has to be done.' And then I heard some man telling her that he'd be willing if the price was right. Then she laughed, and told him that he would never have to worry about a dime ever again."
I gave Ginger a funny look. What she had heard just didn't sound all that menacing to me and I told her so, laughing at her and telling her that Estelle and the man, who was probably the chauffeur, were talking about some ridiculous thing.
"She wants to kill us," Ginger said.
"My god! Are you smoking some of her stuff? Come on, Ginger, you can't be serious." But when I looked at the girl's eyes I could see that she was serious and she was afraid. I tried to reassure her by taking her into my arms and slowly pressing her back onto the mattress. She was trembling as she had been before, but as our bodies warmed to each other's touch she became calmer and gradually opened, her thighs.
I slipped between her legs and hunched up to sink my rigid .cock in her hot, tight hole and as soon as I was imbedded in her cunt, she stopped trembling altogether and fell into the hip-twisting rhythm of fucking. My mouth closed over her nipple and she moaned softly and dug her nails into my back. She crushed me in the soft, scissoring embrace of her legs as I poled deeply into her wet box, each stroke as long and slow as I could make it. But my movements were too slow for Ginger and soon she was humping her ass off the mattress to meet and swallow my cock with the entire length of her hot vaginal walls. She flexed her butt cheeks tightly when my cock was up to the hilt in her cunt and I could feel myself trapped in that lovely prison. Then she was frantic, humping as fast as she could, bouncing up and down from the mattress until I felt my orgasm swell inside me and finally burst out in great spurts to fill her hot cavity.
I collapsed heavily on Ginger, letting her work her marvelous crotch on my cock until it shrank and slipped from her juicy embrace. Even then it was a few minutes before I managed to roll over on my side and close my eyes. I was too tired to bother thinking about what she had said about Estelle and the chauffeur, except for one reassuring kiss on Ginger s forehead and a comforting word for her not to worry about it.
She must have left shortly after I fell asleep. The side of my bed was cool and dry when I woke up, just the perfect opposite of the damp warmth that it had been while her passionate nudity was pressed there under my weight. I wasn't completely disappointed, however, even though I would have enjoyed sinking my hard-on of the morning back into her velvety purse or, better yet, into her sweet young mouth. Yes, that would have been much better, I thought as I lay in bed, for Ginger was one helluva great cocksucker.
I cold-showered my stiff dick back to a more comfortable state before getting dressed, and I laughed a little, thinking what a waste of muscle that act was when it could so enjoyably be used satisfying the hot twat of either my sister or my step-sister.
As soon as I stepped from my room, I ran into the cute little maid of the funeral reception who blushed furiously when I openly surveyed her curvaceous charms from her ankles to her flaring hips, quite a distance, I noted, as I always liked long legs, and then to her tightly fitted blouse which hid none of the full development of her boobs, another fine point. She managed a weak smile but no matter how she looked away she couldn't diminish the blush that ran from her cleavage right up to the roots of her hair. I smiled and gave her a hearty greeting.
"Good morning, sir," she answered. "I was just coming to wake you. Your sister, Miss Estelle, is waiting breakfast on the terrace."
"You should have come twenty minutes ago," I said, smiling and still devouring her lush body.
She gave me a puzzled look which made me laugh, but I didn't elaborate on what I meant. I don't think that I really had to because I was damned sure that she knew what I meant. I just thanked her and went down to meet Estelle, slowly recalling what Ginger had told me the night before and wondering if there was any truth in it. It was ridiculous, I told myself and sauntered out onto the terrace where Estelle was sipping coffee and smoking a joint.
"Good morning, dear sister," I said rather bombastically. "I missed you last night after I had gone to bed. Got someone else?"
It was a stupid thing to say, but it just came out. What the hell was I doing, I thought?
"Don't lock your door if you want me for company. Or is it you prefer our darling halfwit Ginger? Is she as good to you as I am?"
Well, I thought, that was that. Estelle knew as always what was going on, but somehow I wasn't quite up to playing my old role of younger brother and I surprised myself even more than Estelle when I sat down and answered her.
"She's too young to be that good, Estelle," I said, smiling and helping myself to a cup of strong black coffee. "But she's coming along very well."
"She should be better than that. You know, of course, that she was shacked up with father."
I heard her, but I didn't blanch and I didn't hesitate as I lifted the cup to my hps and drank. I wasn't sure what to say, but I knew that I wasn't going to get angry. It was the land of remark that she would make, true or not, just to make me lose my temper or my new-found confidence. I thought that I saw through the ploy and I wasn't about to play the patsy for Estelle, not then, even though the remark, true or not, bothered the hell out of me, and not ever again. I managed a smile.
"Don't act smug," Estelle said. "I know you've been balling her. But that's all right with me. I have nothing to worry about in that department. You'll always come back to sister Estelle for the complete thrill of sex, complete with all the delightfully erotic details that she doesn't know of and probably never will. And, besides, I have something special for us to enjoy in a very special way."
Estelle wasn't even looking at me directly when she spoke. Her eyes seemed to be simply open and directed at some infinity point just over my left shoulder. I had had no doubts that she knew about Ginger and me, and I still didn't give a damn now that she told me she knew. But there was a lot of truth in what she said, truth about all the depths of eroticism that she and I were capable of when together in that special kind of euphoria, our uninhibited delight in each other's bodies and moods that was heightened all the more by the knowledge of our guilty relationship.
"Something special?"
She laughed and finally directed her eyes into mine. "Yes, dear Kevin. Something very special. But I think you've met her. The maid who woke you. Delicious young thing, isn't she?"
"I've met her. But she didn't wake me. I met her in the hall. But wasn't she here for the reception?"
Again Estelle laughed that strange, pot-distanced laugh that bothered me. "But who do you think had her hired? And put in the special maid's room? And had her tested in such a varity of ways to see that she would be suitable? Darling Kevin, I did. And she is perfect." Again that laugh. "Would you like to hear about her?"
I knew then why the girl had paid such special attention to me at the reception and why she was there at my door that morning. It had all been Estelle's doing, and I felt a vague sense of apprehension when my sister brought her up. I thought of Rose and what she and I had done with her. That had been an eternity ago, a time when I was young and dumb, and Estelle had not become quite so hung up on pot and power. The coffee tasted bitter suddenly and I shook my head in answer to her question, but I knew she would go on until I left or someone interrupted us.
"Of course you want to hear about Alice," Estelle said, once more seeming to read my mind deeper than I could myself. I guess that I did want to hear about the girl, particularly if she said that I wanted to.
"Alice Cauz is her name," she continued. "I found her in one of the pregnant girls' homes we support so generously."
I gave Estelle a quick look of surprise. "Is she? Pregnant, I mean."
"No, idiot. She was only six weeks along when my contact called me. I had her taken care of, and she was so grateful that she just wanted to do anything for me. And I do mean anything."
I could imagine what Estelle meant and the girl fell somewhat in my esteem. Estelle, no doubt, had had her eating out of her hand and out of her cunt, too, of course. And I wondered what other indignities Estelle had put the girl to. Pot? No doubt of that either, and that was how she probably managed to suffer through my sister's little games. I remembered Rose.
"She's not very bright," Estelle continued. "But that makes her all the more appealing, I think. She's so interested in exploring all the byways of sensuality. I've been training her for several weeks, but I was not quite sure how I could really use her until the tragic accident. Then I knew you'd be back and I knew we could help her along the way. I've kept her away from men, you know, but I feel that she's just dying to take a thick cock like yours, and I mean take it wherever you want to put it. You know, I've got her trained to go to sleep with a dildo in her ass and one in her mouth. She actually comes five minutes after I've put her to bed."
"I don't want to hear any more," I said and rose from the table. "You're getting sick, I think, Estelle, but that's your problem. I'd just as soon stay away from it and you and this, this Alice Cauz."
"Don't be holy, Kevin," Estelle said, lighting up another joint. "You know you'll enjoy her with me."
I turned and started to walk away from her. I felt something stir, however, by what she had told me, but I felt deeply for Ginger, felt that I needed her then arid needed her for some time to come if I was ever able to get out from Estelle's influence. Alice was a pathetic victim of Estelle's and, remembering Rose, I didn't want her to be my pathetic victim.
"Wait, Kevin," Estelle's voice rang out sharply. "I've something for you to listen to." I stopped and turned back to the table. Estelle was pulling a small casette tape recorder from her big handbag. "Sit down, Kevin, or should I turn the volume up loud enough for the whole household to hear."
I sat down again and poured another cup of coffee. "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm not part of it. Do what you have to do and leave me alone."
Estelle laughed and switched on the machine.
". . . too scared to let myself be known. . . ." Estelle turned the machine off and rewound some more.
"That's not the part I like," Estelle said. "Here, I think this is it."
The machine hummed and squeaked and I made out some wet sounds and then moans, more squeaking and then ".. . God, Kevin, you eat cunt like no other man has eaten me."
I punched the stop button on the machine and gave her a dirty look. The bitch had bugged my room. There was no doubt that that was Ginger's voice, and as soon as I heard it the rest of the recording was too obvious. I didn't need to hear any more.
"Take it, darling," Estelle said. "I have the master hidden away."
"So you heard us making love."
"I heard you fucking and eating your step-sister," Estelle snapped. "Those weren't the sounds of love, my dear brother, just lust. And I'm sure that our fine old respectable Mr. Myer would agree."
She didn't have to spell out for me what she was doing. But somehow I felt that the blackmail would not really work on old Myer. Or would it? For the next couple of years, I realized, he'd be the authority over me to some extent and he could very well make it uncomfortable. Of course there was no danger in losing what was mine and Ginger's, but it would be uncomfortable. Estelle had me again. I forced a smile at her.
"Have you seen Ginger? I'd like to discuss this with her," I said, still smiling and hating every moment of it.
"She went to town," Estelle said. "She'll be back tomorrow. But no, Kevin, I didn't embarrass the little cunt. Not yet."
"What in the hell have you got against her?" I asked; angry at the way she referred to Ginger and then angrier at myself for being angry.
"She fucked herself into my rightful inheritance, that's all, and that's goddamn plenty in my book."
Estelle was on her feet then, snubbing out the joint in the ashtray viciously although it was just a roach and it had long since gone out by itself.
"Forget it. That's the way the will read, but I don't think you ever liked her, did you?"
"I told you she fucked and sucked herself into my share of the inheritance. I wasn't lying to you when I told you that she and father were shacked up. Hell, why do you think the accident happened? Or do you really believe that it was an accident?"
I don't think that Estelle had meant to say what she had said. Suddenly her face turned very white and she looked away from me. I reached across the table, nearly knocking over the coffeepot, and grabbed her by the shoulder.
"What the hell do you mean? It was an accident, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" I was nearly shouting now and I guess that frightened Estelle. She turned to me and I saw tears in her eyes. She shook her head and blubbered something I couldn't understand. But I still held onto her shoulder, pressing my fingers tightly into the hot flesh of her body until I saw her wince in pain.
"I'm sorry, Kevin," she said and I thought that she really meant it. I let go of her and sank back in the chair, picking up my cold coffee and drinking it with distaste.
"It's true then. It wasn't an accident," I said, hardly conscious of the sudden stab of pain I felt for the death of my father, the father I hardly knew and the father I had planted in the ground such a short time ago.
Estelle seemed to regain some of her composure and she smiled at me softly, something like she used to smile at me when I was quite small and before I knew what she was and before we destroyed our sibling relationship. Before we had ever slept together, that is, and before we ever tried to venture out into the deepest waters of perversions and excitement. In that instant of her soft contact I knew that I was hooked all over again, and whatever good there had been with Ginger and myself was a thing of the past. Estelle was once more in the lead of my life, even if she didn't have the industrial power that I had inherited. In a sense she didn't need it: she had me.