Chapter 4

IT WAS PERHAPS TWO HOURS LATER THAT I looked for Mother and finally found her sitting in the car in the courtyard. I climbed in beside her.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Didn't you enjoy your experience with the Japanese?"

She groaned. "My asshole, dear. Those Oriental gentleman, my goodness. All they wanted to do was to run it in my ass. I swear, there must have been a dozen pricks stuck up my asshole since we came here. I'm so sore I can barely sit down. Take me home, Robert. I need treatment for my poor, inflamed anus."

I smiled, said nothing, and drove her home as rapidly as I could. Inside the house, she disappeared into her room, and it wasn't until long past midnight that she came downstairs and spoke to me.

"I'm so sore, dear. My rear is paining me terribly."

I thought I'd tease her a little. "Want me to call a doctor, Mother, have him examine it?"

She gave me a curious look. "Certainly not, Robert. Whatever are you talking about? I do want you to do one thing for me, however."

"All right. What?"

"Call up Abbie and have her come over and bring her father."

"At this time of night?"

"Certainly. Mr. LeBlanc told me to call him at any hour any time."

"Are you joking?"

Her lips set. "I definitely am not joking. By the way, how did you make out at Sexualis, Incorporated?"

"I did all right."

"Did you find a nice, willing little girl, dear?"

"Yes."

"Don't you want to talk about it?"

"Perhaps later. Shall I call Abbie now?"

"Yes. Unless of course you want to gratify your poor old mother."

Poor old mother? I had never heard her call herself that before. "You just told me you were sore," I said lamely, mot wanting to have anything to do with her at the moment, and hoping to remind her that she was in no shape to indulge.

"Very well, call your girl and her father."

"I just happened to think, Mother," I said slowly. "Abbie's angry at me. I don't believe I should call her. I doubt that she'd even talk to me now."

Her finger shot to her upper lip and she rubbed it fiercely. "Whatever is she angry at you for? What happened?"

"She brought a homosexual cousin of hers over and he ... well, she got angry when the three of us had a bit of a go at it in bed."

Her jaw went slack. "You had her and a homosexual at the same time. How very exciting."

"Abbie thought it would be, too, at first, but later on, after it had happened, she got annoyed with me, angry, I mean, as I just said."

"What a terribly silly thing for her to do, dear. You just go and call her up and apologize to her."

"Apologize to her? What for? She should apologize to me, if anything."

"Girls, my dear, never apologize for anything. It's the men who must always do the apologizing."

"I don't see why."

"Because girls are children, dear boy. Women are children. There, I said it. However, it's true. You might as well know it now as find out about it later. All females are still children, and playing at being grownups. Now ... go and call her and apologize. A nice apology to a female is all it ever takes."

"Thanks for the vital information," I said drily.

"Quite all right," she said, sniffing. "But don't you ever dare throw that back in my face, Robert. I shall be most angry if you attempt it."

"I'll try to remember not to."

"On second thought," she said, drawing her red robe about her body more securely, "perhaps it would be better not to call. I don't mean about apologizing. I mean about asking Mr. LeBlanc to come over. I do feel terribly sore between my legs. I think that...."

I waited for her to go on, but she didn't. "Your Japanese friends must have really given you a rough time tonight," I said at length.

"Japanese? Oh, did I say that? They were Chinese. Yes, they did give me a rough time, or should I say a hard time? My goodness, but those Oriental men have large ones. They're very brutal about it, too. I loved it at first, but after a half-dozen of them got to me, every one of them ramming it into my ass and going off after hurting me terribly ... Well, I found it quite tiresome. Perhaps I'm getting old. Nothing seems to satisfy me for long any more. Do you suppose there comes a time when a person can no longer be gratified?"

"That's the first time you've ever asked me anything," I observed, "but since you asked, I'll try to answer. Yes, I think there does come a time when you've had so much of it that you need to take a rest."

"Nonsense," she said irritably. "What utter nonsense." She flounced up the stairs, disappearing into her room.

"My mother," I muttered softly, "is a damned odd woman."

Later, in my own bed, I awakened with a tremendous hard-on and went to my mother's room, crawled between her large, loving legs and screwed her wetly. She must have taken some sleeping pills because she didn't wake up while I gave it to her. It was strange to screw a woman-especially one's own mother-and not have her wake up. I rather liked it and made up my mind to keep a close watch over her, and the next time she took pills I would do a repeat. I returned to my room and slept soundly the remainder of the night.

The following Monday, as I left the school building, I happened to catch sight of Abbie walking alone on the opposite side of the street. I ran across the street to join her. She looked up at me in a startled way, as if she hadn't heard me approach.

"Oh ... Robert ... it's you." Her tone was cold.

"Come off it, Abbie. Why be mad at me?"

She walked along for several steps without replying. "Alfie's gone home, back to his home, I mean."

"The hell with Alfie. Why are you still mad at me?"

She hesitated just long enough to cause me some anxiety, and then glanced up at me and smiled. "I'm not mad at you now, Robert." She took my hand and squeezed it. "Come over to the house with me. My father isn't at home and we...."

I gave her hand a squeeze. "Fine. I've missed you, Abbie."

She giggled. "You've missed sticking it into my cunt, you mean."

"Yes, but I've missed you, too, honest."

She stopped in her tracks and giggled again. "Wonder what you'd do if I lifted my skirt here on the street and asked you to stick it in. What would you do, Robert?"

I laughed. "I'd think it a delightful idea but a bit nutty."

She sighed and walked along the street again with me holding her hand. "I guess it would be nutty. We can wait till we get to my house."

"Sure we can."

"Have you been screwing your mother much lately?"

This astonished me, and I felt my face redden. "I don't hear you speak like that very often. What's come over you, Abbie?"

"I feel reckless and restless today, I guess. I feel like doing something terribly wild."

"Such as what?" I gave her moist hand another squeeze.

She didn't answer me directly. "I had a dream last night," she told me. "In it I was sucking off a midget. Can you imagine that?"

Playfully, I bent my knees and walked hunched over. "Look, I'm not very tall. I'm practically a midget myself."

She giggled again. "Oh, Robert, I like you so much. You're such a nice boy."

We walked until we came to the corner where we turned and went to her house. She led me around to the rear and unlocked the door. We entered and she snapped the lock on.

"Why'd you lock it?" I asked.

"My father makes me do it. He's afraid I might get raped when he isn't at home."

I grinned. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"

She put her arms about my neck and pressed her front against mind. "Depends on who wanted to do the raping, honey."

"I'm ready," I said, grinning and patting her on the butt.

She appeared not to hear me. "Robert," she said, "do you ever feel funny about having incestuous relationships with your mother?"

I didn't know what to say for a moment. Then:

"I don't know as I've thought about it lately. Why do you ask?"

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately," she replied. "I think my father is spoiling me, somehow."

"You mean you like him better than, say, me?"

"I'm not sure what I mean. One thing I know: I can have sex with him and know I don't have to get deeply involved."

"And you're afraid you might become that way with me?"

"I don't want to become seriously involved with anyone, Robert. I want to be free, always."

"It all depends on what you mean by freedom. Lots of times people who want to be free are just selfish and don't want to share any of themselves with anyone else."

"You really believe that?"

"I think I do."

"It's awful to be so young and dumb, isn't it, Robert?"

"Yes, it is. Still, my mother isn't young, but she's dumb about some things, so maybe being older doesn't help."

"My father is terribly dumb about some things, too. What's the answer to ... things, Robert?"

"What things?"

She broke away from me. "Oh, I don't know. All I know is that I'm seventeen and bored to hell and gone. Why should that be?"

"Do you say it's because of incest?"

She turned and looked at me straight in the eye without blinking. "I could be, Robert." She paused. "I sometimes think that's the reason you and I are drawn to each other. Our parents, your mother and my father ... well, maybe they exploit us all the time. What do you think?"

"I agree with you. But I don't like to talk about it."

"Why not?" She came back and put her arms around me and buried her face against my chest.

"I can't speak for you, Abbie, but in my case I was perfectly willing to have an incestuous relationship ... so it's partly my fault if anything goes wrong, not that I think it will."

"Robert," she said thoughtfully, "have you ever considered the fact that you'll never be able to marry anyone except me?"

"That suits me fine: you, I mean."

"You didn't answer my question."

I squirmed a bit. "What makes you ask it?"

"Look, you have an incestuous relationship with your mother. What if you should marry some other girl someday. Would you be able to tell her about yourself and your mother?"

"No."

"And neither would I be able to tell my husband if he was someone other than you. Don't you see? If either of us ever gets married, it'll have to be to each other."

I smiled now. "Well, that wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

"Don't you ever get serious, Robert?" she asked reproachfully.

"Sometimes. But why are you so serious today?"

"Because I'm bored."

"What do you want to do?" I asked jokingly. "Run away and get married?"

She amazed me. "Yes," she said. "Right now.'?

"You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not kidding. My father has plenty of money right here in the house. In the safe. I know how to open it. We'll take it and the car and drive to another state and lie about our ages. It's done all the time, Robert. We could get away with it."

"I don't want to do that, Abbie. That's stealing."

She broke away from me. "So it's stealing. Is that any worse then climbing on top of your mother every time she screams for you to?"

That shook me up. "No, I suppose not."

"Let's face it, Robert. Your mother is selfish, and so is my father. Neither of them have remarried because they don't want to put up with a wife or husband. They've got us, Robert. We satisfy them and get nothing in return."

"I wouldn't say that. You've told me you like having your father do it to you."

"Our parents, your mother and my father ... well, they're using us, Robert, using us and neither of them care what happens to us later on in life."

"What's going to happen. They aren't going to tell anyone and we don't have to, either, so who's to know about what we're doing?"

"Things like this always get out. People find out about it sooner or later."

I rubbed my ear. "I wish you'd get off this serious stuff. I'm not in the mood for it. I came here to have fun with you."

"Sure, sure," she said bitterly. "Lie down and screw. That takes care of everything, doesn't it?"

"It takes care of an awful lot, Abbie, and you know it does."

"It's terrible to be so young and unimportant," she said impulsively.

I shook my head. "No, it isn't, Abbie. It's great to be young and unimportant."

She flashed me an odd look. "How can you say such a stupid thing?"

"But it's not stupid. It's smart."

She came closer but didn't put her arms around me. "I don't see how."

"It's great to be young and unimportant because when you are both you can have lots more fun, Abbie. If you're older and important that means you have a lot of responsibility all of the time. You have to work at jobs you may not like in order to support someone else. You have to worry about other people."

"You seem to think that having fun is the only thing in life."

"If you can't have fun, you can't have anything."

She put her arms around me. "I swear, I don't know what's wrong with me today. Maybe you'd better screw me and screw me good. Maybe that'll fix me up, make me feel better."

"I'd be happy to try," I said, grinning. Still, I thought it odd that a moment ago she had complained about the very thing she was now wanting. Perhaps that's the way it is when you're a girl, I reflected. "Shall we journey to your bedroom, fair lass?"

"Did you say lass or ass, sir?" she replied, smiling at me, "as I have the latter."

"You seem to have gotten over your morbid point of view."

Her blue eyes stared at me. "Oh, did you think I was being morbid?"

"Somewhat. Your room, Abbie?"

"My father won't be home tonight. Let's get drunk and sleep together all night, Robert."

"All right, but I'll have to call my mother. You know how she is, expects me home right after school every day."

She sighed. "Yes, I know how she is."

"Tell me something, Abbie. How did you get started with your father? I mean, how did it come about?"

"Sit down and I'll tell you. First, I'll steal us a couple of drinks from his bottle." She got the drinks and brought them back. I sat down and looked at her. "It happened when I was twelve. My mother had been dead for three years and my father was getting quieter and quieter every day."

I moved over to the sofa and lay down and motioned for her to sit beside me. "I like it better this way," I told her. "Now go ahead and tell me the rest of it."

She smiled and patted the front of my trousers. "I know what you have in mind, Robert," she said. "All right, where was I?"

"You were twelve years old," I offered.

"Oh yes. Well my father was becoming very withdrawn, and one night he had a few too many and came and got in bed with me. I was scared stiff for a few moments, and then I got over my fear. I began playing with his prick and I remember how thrilled it made me when I felt him getting hard. He kept muttering something or other about it being wrong, but I kept right on playing with him, and after a time he blew off a little. This excited the hell out of me and do you know what I did, Robert?"

I shook my head.

"I took his prick in my mouth and sucked him off."

"Whew, that was getting with it in a hurry for a twelve-year-old."

"Yes, my father sobered up in a hurry, too. He became very excited and I knew he was all mixed up. Imagine, I was only twelve, but I knew more about what was happening than he did at the moment."

"Was that all there was to it?"

"For a few minutes. We just lay there side by side while he regained his breath. I knew one thing. I wanted more of it. So I began to play with him again. He knocked my hand away at first, but I persisted, and pretty soon he was as hard as a rock again. I moved my body over against his and actually tried to insert him into my cunt. He pulled away and told me he was going back to his bed. When he was gone, I lay there for a long time feeling horrible. Then a wave of passion swept over me, and I got out of bed and went to his room. He was lying in his bed, one arm behind his head. I told him I was cold, that I wanted to sleep with him. He never said a word, so I climbed in beside him, waited a little while, and then started playing with his prick again. Once again it got hard, and this time I knew he was going to take me. I could feel it inside, and I don't mean that as a pun. I...."

I laughed. "I think I know how you felt, Abbie. Sounds familiar to me."

"Well, my father told me to go away and leave him alone. He said what I'd done was terrible, but I knew he didn't mean it. I may have been only twelve, but I was a smart kid about some things. I told him to relax, maybe not in those words, but that's what I meant. He just grunted when I took his prick in my mouth and began to suck on it. First thing I knew he had grabbed me and flung me over on my back. I remember I closed my eyes when he crawled on top of me and stabbed me with his hard, long cock. Boy, it hurt, but only at first. He had a lot of trouble getting it all the way in. I had never known this sort of thing before, of course, and I suppose I was awfully small and tight, my cunt, I mean. Well, anyway he pushed and shoved, and I tried to make myself bigger, and finally I became very moist down there and he slipped the long tube all the way in."

"How did it feel?"

"Like I said, it hurt a lot at first, but then it began to feel terrific. He pumped that hard thing into me like a man gone berserk, and later I knew he was almost at the point of cracking up. He really was. He'd been without sex for so long that it nearly drove him crazy. He blew into me over and over and didn't stop pumping it. I guess he must have filled my cunt up but good because I later felt the bed near my butt and it was soaked; and yet I had all of his cream inside me, or at least an awful lot of it. When I finally got out of bed to go to the bathroom, it ran down my legs, both of them, all the way to my feet. I remember how I felt when I was in the bathroom cleaning up."

"How did you feel then?" I asked.

"If I tell you, you'll probably laugh."

"No, I won't. Tell me how you felt."

"I had a wish," she replied. "A real strange wish."

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "And what was your wish, Abbie."

She giggled. "I wish my father had ten pricks. One wasn't enough for me."