Chapter 10
"He doesn't know anything at all," Tim said. "Hard to believe, but he doesn't."
"She is certainly beginning to suspect." Sally giggled. "If you could have seen Dad and me trying to air out the camper! Waving dish towels in the air, toward the windows! And spraying that stuff all over-yech!"
"Didn't do much good, did it," he grinned. "The look on her face! Dad and his travel book talk, and Mom sniffing like a blood hound!"
They laughed, but sobered quickly. The way they saw it, they had a problem. A family problem, but obviously it was going to be up to the two younger members to solve it.
"She knows you and I have been making it together," Tim said. "I as much as told her so. Then we get back and find you two sitting there so innocently. Only the place smells; it absolutely REEKS of sex! That was the first time I was sure you were balling Dad, Sal."
"Yeah, well, it was the first time I did! You know that!" The pert little girl giggled again. "You got my cherry, didn't you?"
"Ummmm-hmmm. But what are we gonna do now? Dad mopes around, he feels guilty as hell. So does Mom. But they're never ever going to admit anything, or accuse the other one. Shee-it! After all the years they've been married, wouldn't you think they could talk together?"
"We've got to do something. But what?" She looked anxiously at her brother. He was older, almost fifteen; surely he could come up with something.
"I dunno," Tim said thoughtfully. "If we were home where we had more privacy, it'd be easy. We'd get up early on Sunday morning and get in bed with them. You next to the old man, grabbing his dork. Me cuddling up to Mom, with my hand in her twat. By the time they got over the shock, it'd be all laid out."
"The vacation can't last forever," she said hopefully. "And now they want to drive farther south, I guess they're like running away from themselves, huh, Tim?"
"You're a smart little cookie," he said, looking at her fondly. "Don't worry, I'll think of something yet."
It was a tense, quiet and overly polite family which drove on. They stayed the first night in another crowded camp ground, sleeping out huddled into their four separate sleeping bags.
But the next afternoon, Max turned off the narrow highway and bumped down a sand-rutted path. He drew a deep breath. It was warm, the sun shone, the gulf should be warm enough for swimming. In any case they had an enormous expanse of beautiful beach all to themselves. The kids could run around and let off some steam, which should help the situation. He felt like bloody hell, down this far in a foreign country, with all the miles to go home, and this heaviness oppressing them all. He couldn't even get his own mind straight, in the circumstances. Some damn vacation!
They laid the ground sheet out in the shelter of the camper, spread the bags, fixed up a "kitchen" corner with the cooler and Coleman stove. There was still plenty of time before sunset for a swim, which did, as Max hoped, ease the tension, his own included. He managed to get enough exercise that, with the help of half a bottle of brandy, he was able to sleep.
Helen, too, felt unaccountably better. She wished they'd headed for home instead of farther away, but it hadn't seemed fair to the kids. She drank the other half, choking it down because anything was better than lying awake hating herself and trying not to think about Max and Sally.
The sun was barely a hint of blazing red on the flat grey ocean the next morning, when Tim slipped out of his bag. He tiptoed to his sister and eased down the zipper of the bedroll, slipping inside and closing it up again. Sally hardly realized she had company. She felt a delicious warmth surrounding her, and then something very nice happening. A wet mouth fastened on her tit and sucked sweetly.
"Wha-oh, Tim!" She yawned, feeling his leg driven between her thighs. "Hey, what a nice alarm clock you make!"
"Ssshhh!" he whispered.
"Oh, pooh! Can't we have any fun at all?" she said crossly.
"Sure we can, dummy!" He waited, but she merely snuggled closer to him, rubbing her pussy on his leg. "Come on, they could wake up any time!"
"Whadaya mean?"
"C'mon, wake up! Remember what I said we'd do if we were at home? On a Sunday morning?" When she nodded, he went on. "Well, let's see you get into Dad's sleeping bag right now, without making a fuss and waking Mom!"
The two stole out like burglars in the silent dawn. The beach was still deserted, nor could they be seen from the highway. Sally had a hard time suppressing her ready giggles. Her father lay on his back and he was snoring, with a bubbling sound at the end of each long drawn-out snore. But she controlled herself and tugged at the zipper tag.
"Mmmfff. Rrraaarrrkkk." Max mumbled in his sleep and tried to turn over, but pliant yielding flesh was in his way. Somehow she managed to get inside, and pull the zipper up again, and bury her next set of giggles in his neck.
Sally didn't waste any time. It was a tight fit but she insinuated her little hand between his legs and found the warm lump of flesh. Under her touch it began immediately to twitch and swell, attempting to rise and bumping her leg with its solid erection. What the heck did Tim expect her to do, she thought. They couldn't hump in here unless they were contortionists! But she'd do her best.
Tim in his planning knew there was no way his bigger body could share one sleeping bag with an adult. But lying awake, staring at the brilliance of the stars, he'd worked out a plan. He opened his own bag all the way, and carried it to his mother. He draped it partly over her, and partly over himself. Kneeling on the cold sand, he unzipped her bag. He managed to persuade her limpness over to the far side, while he climbed on it with her. The extra bag over the top kept them warm. It worked almost as well as he hoped.
Helen dreamed she was back at one of the sex parties, nakedly embracing somebody's husband. Funny, she couldn't see his face, but it felt good to have him run his tongue over her nipples, while his hands separated her fat hair-lined labia.
"Niccee," she murmured, and Tim grinned.
He switched around and gently spread her legs. His tongue lapped warmly at all her most delicate and sensitive places, her clit and labia and cunt mouth and anus. His hand pressed the length of the crease between her asscheeks, and then was replaced by bis face. His fingers stroked her pussy lips while his tongue probed hotly at her asshole.
"Ooooooo," she crooned, hardly knowing where the dream ended and reality began.
She reached for him, vaguely surprised that he'd shrunken so. While her drowsy mind tried to figure out who was the shortest man in the swap group, so she could put a face to the exciting body, her hands found his tumescent penis. She clasped it and pumped, stroked his dear testicles, missed the bush of hair she expected. And she woke up.
"Where am-what is this?" She blinked in the sudden dazzle of daylight, and looked around wildly. My God, what was she doing!
"Tim! Come out of there!"
He knew she meant it and came up smiling. "Nice way to wake up, isn't it, Mom?" He kept one hand between her legs, and the other one tweaking a nipple.
"Are you out of your mind?" she scolded. "Where are your father and Sally?"
"Turn your head that way, take a look."
It was the strangest sight she'd ever seen. The long shape of the sleeping bag, like a green caterpillar, seemed to be having convulsions. While they stared in fascination, it peaked high first here, then there. It humped across the beach aimlessly, now falling one way, now another. It bumped headfirst-if you could decide which was the head-into a wheel of the camper, and then spun away. Strange little muffled cries and squeals came from it.
Tim began to laugh, and after a moment so did Helen. She knew what she was seeing, but after all, it wasn't a complete surprise. She'd tried to guide events away from this moment of truth and exposure. But she hadn't succeeded, and so she let herself go. Sitting up, bundled in sleeping bags from the waist down but topless above, they laughed until tears came in her eyes.
"This is absolutely horrible," she said, wiping the tears away, still chuckling.
"Oh, shit, did you ever see anything so funny in your life?" Tim wondered if he should renew his attack on his mother's seductive body, in order to complete his plot. But he didn't think he'd succeed, for one thing. For another, he'd laughed himself right out of an erection.
"Are you mad, Mom?"
"I certainly should be," she said.
"But it would be hypocritical," he told her' solemnly.
"You and your big words! Listen, Einstein, you're so smart, get me my robe and put water on for coffee. Your dad's going to need it." She laughed again, eyes on the disjointed sleeping bag. "If Sally's anything like me, he's going to need a lot of coffee." She couldn't help the tone of pride in her voice. She knew they had plenty of problems ahead, but it seemed as if the worst was over.
She returned to the same thought half an hour later, when the family sat holding mugs of steaming coffee. Shamefaced but relieved, Max felt as if he'd just been given a pardon from a life sentence.
"At least it's all out in the open," he said.
"Yes, thanks to our smart-assed kids." But she smiled when she said it. "Listen, Max, I know we can't go backwards. Can't give Sally her cherry back."
"It wasn't me," Max said hastily. "I swear to God, I don't know who, but it wasn't me!"
Helen shook her head. "Even I could figure that out, you lunk! Who else but her loving brother!"
It took Max a while to recover from that. He discovered the strange pang he felt was jealousy; but as soon as he identified it, it faded away. Of course, why hadn't he guessed!
"Anyhow, let's call this meeting to order again," Helen said. "We've got to talk about what's happened____"
"Before breakfast?" Sally groaned.
"If you want breakfast, fix it!" she snapped. "With all the equality we've got going here-no, anarchy, is what it is!" And then she burst into tears.
The lads looked at each other. They were in high spirits, proud of themselves for forcing their parents to look at things the way they really were. And Helen had seemed to take it so well! It wasn't as if their father alone had been breaking the rules, because she'd done as much with Tim.
But Max understood. He put an arm around his wife and said, "It'll be all right, honey, you'll see. Nobody's blaming you. And we can handle it, like we've handled everything else. Together." He got her to her feet.
Turning to the youngsters, he said, "Fix yourselves something to eat, why don't you. Mom and I will be in the camper for a while."
When Helen said they couldn't go backwards, was when she began to realize she didn't know how to go forward either. They'd been brought up with a certain set of rules and beliefs. Puritanical, maybe, and out of date-but still a code to try and live by. Then, when they joined the swap group and enjoyed sexual freedom with their friends, they were still supported by the others. The fact that so many of their friends and neighbors were doing the same thing, and they all played by the same rules, made it easy. They had group support.
Now he and Helen were out in uncharted territory. They didn't know what to believe any more and it frightened her. He knew she'd get over it, because it was mostly her authority as a parent that was challenged, and her security in playing the role expected of her. Helen never yearned to be a pioneer.
Max knew just what would cheer her up. And he knew too, once she got past this particular moment, her own common sense would help her live happily with the new revelations.
"Lie down on the bunk," he said. While the tears ran down her face, he opened her robe and stroked her gently. "It's just nerves, he said soothingly. "Give it a little time."
Sally and Tim were too upset to eat. It seemed to them that the more they learned about their parents, the less they really knew them. After a whispered conference, they sneaked up to the side window of the camper and peered inside.
"Will you look at that," Tim marveled.
"Hasn't he got a big one, though," his little sister sighed.
Moans and frantic movements shook the camper. Helen lay on her back, writhing wildly. Her legs were spread wide, and her husband had his face pressed into the steamy vee of her crotch. The kids could tell that he was tonguing her furiously as his head bobbed and moved. His powerful naked body almost filled the narrow bunk. His cock looked as if it would burst its skin, the glans a deep red and shiny with jism. The enormous staff seemed to have a life of its own,, as it wobbled in front of him.
Some signal must have passed between them which the children failed to see. Their father raised his head, his face was smeared with her juices and he smiled in a twisted way. Growling fiercely, he threw himself on top of Helen's voluptuous body.
"Awwwwww," she mewled, "do it now, fuck me! Fuck me good!"
Max was tremendously happy. The contortions on his face were only from the strength of his swelling lust. He worked his rigid pole into her, loving the slick creamy slide of his cock up her vagina. Nobody could fuck like Helen, he thought ecstatically. It was a natural talent, and no wonder her little daughter had it too! He could feel her expert muscles clamp around his aching shaft, giving delicious hot pressure. He slipped his hands under her ass and pulled her pelvis up, tilting it toward him. Her legs splayed high and wide, one knee cocked so an ankle rested on his shoulder.
Wonderful Max, she thought. He knows exactly how I felt, and why my nerves were strained so tight. And he knew the perfect cure, too! She threw her arms around his surging, hard-working shoulders and bit him gently on the biceps. Joy swept through her as she gave herself up wholly to the powerful cock reaming out her needy cunt.
The kids were fascinated. They hardly felt the strain of standing on tiptoe in order to see through the high window. It was another new experience for them, to see adult lovemaking done out of commitment and powerful love. With every move of their bodies, their parents were showing the love they had for each other, the years of experience in knowing each other's pleasures and physical capacities, and the deep involvement they had in making the other one happy.
Neither Sally nor Tim could express what they felt, but they were impressed as never before with their parents as people, and with the stability of the marriage they'd always taken for granted.
"Hey, Sal," Tim nudged his sister. "You know what we'd better do?"
"No, what? Fuck for a little while, too?"
"No, you dummy!" He laughed. "We'd better get out the eggs and sausage and start cooking. Those two are going to be hungry enough to swallow it raw if we don't get hopping!"
"Right!" Awed but pleased with what she'd seen and felt, the little girl got out a skillet.