Message-ID: <3386eli$9708261613@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: S THOMAS BUSH Subject: A Difficult Question [ M/F, watching ] by Tom Bombadil Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: A Difficult Question [ M/F, watching ] Story #21 by Tom Bombadil (c) Jul 1997 Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer. This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives. You've been warned. I give permission for anyone to archive or share this story. For Jody ******************************************************************** Walter sighed as he stared surreptitiously through the kitchen window. From his vantage point, he could see that next door, just across the fence, on her patio, his neighbour's daughter, Pepper, was getting an early start to her summer tan. Not that she really needed it. Her skin was naturally a light copper colour. Lying on her stomach, ass practically bare, covered only by a skimpy almost-thong bikini bottom, the top undone and hanging loose to expose the sides of her ample breasts, she was the picture of innocent teenage sexuality. She was also fifteen. A buzzer brought him back from his daydreaming. He cursed silently at himself as he pulled the cooling toast from the toaster and threw both pieces onto a plate, then scooped some overcooked eggs out of a pan. He hated hard yolks. Some hours later, there was a knock at the back door. Before he could get up from the computer, he heard it open and a voice call out. "Hi, Uncle Wally. You home?" "In the den," he yelled back. A few seconds later, Pepper came waltzing into sight. She had a pink t-shirt thrown on over her bikini, but he could tell that she'd been swimming in his pool because it was wet and semi-transparent in several strategic places. Even dry, the flimsy garment would have done little to cover her body, since it was made of a very light and clingy material, was low cut in front, and just barely reached her crotch. The tall, auburn-haired girl walked up behind Walter, kissed him on the ear, then leaned over his shoulder to see what he was doing. "You making funny drawings again?" He found it difficult to concentrate with her breasts pressing into his shoulder and neck. "No, I'm not. I'm doing some drafting. There's a difference." "That's what *you* say. I know better - I've seen you working." "Sure, sure. And I've seen you playing at Robin Hood, too. Still using those little suction cup arrows of yours?" "Har har. I'll have you know that my coach thinks I'm pretty good, 'specially with that new bow you got me. So laugh away. You'll be laughing out the other side of your face when I win the provincial championship." She danced away from him as she spoke, smiling a silly smile. "Actually, I *can* see you winning, *if* ..." There was a pause as she waited for him to continue. He didn't. "Oh, all right. If what?" An impish grin formed as he replied. "If, and I do mean if, nobody else shows up." She threw a pencil at him, missing badly. He ducked anyway. "Beast!" This was obviously familiar territory for them both. "Okay, enough of the fun and games. I've got work to do. What can I do for you today?" "Um, I need to borrow a dictionary." He pointed to a nearby shelf. "There, the thick orange book. I need it back, though. What's it for?" "Socials. Mr. Garley gave us some weird stuff to read and it's got words in it I've never seen before." "Fill your boots. If you need help, bring it on over. I'll be at this all day." "All day? We're still on for tonight though, right?" "Of course." "See you later, then!" "'Bye." Walter watched her leave, admiring her long, lean legs. One of his friends had described them as swimmers legs - strong, with lots of muscle, but not bulky. The description fit, although he knew the girl had never done any serious swimming. He found it difficult to refocus his attention on what he was supposed to be doing. At dinnertime, she found him hovering over the oven when she walked in. Walter had showered, shaved, and put on a clean t-shirt and jeans. His somewhat curly auburn hair was freshly combed and his moustache was freshly trimmed. Tall, handsome, naturally bronzed, rangy and well-muscled, only his greying temples betrayed the fact that many years had gone by since he had played college football. She was wearing a loose, sleeveless, and very short-cropped Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, oversized and very baggy plaid shorts which hung low on her hips, and pale pink deck shoes. This left her torso bare from well below her waist almost to the bottoms of her breasts. Her wavy hair was done up in a ponytail. He could see that she had dressed up for the occasion - she wore all her best earrings and her nose stud and copper anklets, and he also saw the short gold chain he'd bought her doubled up and hanging from her navel ring. He silently thanked the-powers-that-be that she hadn't put on her black makeup. Without it, she was a beautiful young woman. "Mmmm. Smells good," Pepper said. "What's for supper?" "Food," he replied. "Oooo-kay, we're having food," she answered back, sounding a touch annoyed. "But what *kind* of food are we having?" "Um, edible food?" He found it hard not to laugh at her sour expression. "How about narrowing the field down a bit?" Walter turned towards the stove as he spoke, not trusting himself to keep a straight face. "It's cooked food." "That's it. I've got a good mind to go home and eat," she said, as she pulled out a chair and sat down. "Really? Maybe I'll come with you. What have you got?" "Frozen TV dinners. Blech." "What did you have for lunch?" Pepper replied with a shrug. "Ham sandwich. Blech." "Well, I hate to say it, but we're having a totally unhealthy and very old-fashioned dinner, loaded with calories, fat, and cholesterol." "Oh goody! When do we eat?" "We eat as soon as *you* set the table!" She did as she was told, moving the few implements and pieces of chinaware necessary to the table while he pulled dinner out of the oven and off the stove. "Mmmm. So what do we have here?" His reply was a bit muffled as his head was deep inside the refrigerator. "Chicken cacciatore baked with ricotta and Parmesan cheeses, steamed spaghetti, garlic toast, and," he exclaimed as he turned and walked to the table, "Caesar salad and Asti Spumante." "So you're gonna stuff me with Italian food and get me drunk on Italian wine. Is that your plan?" "Do you have any objections?" "Nope," she said, as she started loading up her plate. "Just don't tell your mother." "No way! What she doesn't know can't hurt me." "Speaking of which, did she get off all right last night?" "Yep. They should be in Cancun by now. Her and *Uncle* David. You know, I really hate it the way she makes me call every one of her boyfriends uncle. I mean, I'm fifteen now, for God sake, not five! Why can't I just call them by their first names, like a normal person?" "I guess that's your mother's idea of you showing respect. Are you going to start calling me Walter now?" "Come on, Uncle Wally, you're different. I've known you forever. Most of those guys disappear after a few months." "Nothing much you can do about that. It's their loss, not yours." "Nah. It's my mother's. She's the one that ... ahhhh, never mind. Tonight's not about her. How's Sammy doing? Hear from her lately?" "Last night, actually. She's doing fine, other than being thoroughly homesick. Three more weeks before she gets back." "It's been what, two and a half months now? I'll bet you two'll have quite the homecoming! Hubba hubba!" Pepper waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Walter smiled as he replied. "Don't expect to come over that day. Actually," he grinned rather lewdly, "I wouldn't count on coming over the next day either." "Yeah." Pepper's dark brown eyes glittered with amusement. "You'll be so pooped out from the night before you'll sleep all day!" "I think I've just been insulted. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm sure I have." The seriocomic look he wore almost had her falling off her chair with a sudden attack of the giggles. It didn't help matters that her mouth was full. "There are," he continued, "dire consequences for such nasty comments, you know. There'll be no dessert for you, young lady." A minute or so later, when she finally recovered enough to speak, she asked, "What's for dessert?" "Let's see ... we're having a classic Italian dinner - at least, here in Canada it's a classic Italian dinner - with a classic Italian wine - at least, here in Canada it's a classic Italian wine. So, we're having the classic Italian dessert - at least, what we here in Canada consider to be the classic Italian dessert. Any guesses? No, no, don't bother trying to speak. Let's leave the food in your mouth rather than spewing it all over my nice clean kitchen. We are having," he said, as he walked over to the freezer, opened it, and pulled out a cardboard container of something, "ta-da! Spumoni ice cream!" Pepper almost lost it again when he broke out into one of those huge, phony, thousand-watt smiles. "Enough. Enough! I give! You win!" "Chalk another one up for ... The Evil Doctor Motormouth!" Swallowing quickly, she replied. "Wait-wait-wait. You can't be The Evil Doctor Motormouth." "Oh, really? And why not?" "It's like Sammy keeps saying. She's the doctor in the family." Pepper did a good imitation of Walter's wife, closing her eyes, waving her nose in the air, and putting on a bad Harvard accent. "You, you're just a lowly BA. You don't have the paperwork to claim such a prestigious title." "That's what I get for letting her get her anthropology degree. She gets all the recognition and glory and goes on these fabulous trips, while I stay behind and keep the home fires burning." "And play on the computer and make five times as much money." "That's beside the point. Right now I'm trying to decide whether or not you deserve any dessert after being so mean to me." "I'll be good. I promise!" "Suuuure you will. Right up until you get what you want. Then that Miss Hyde part of you will come right out again." "Of course. It wouldn't be any fun if I had to be good all night. Besides, you like me better when I'm a little *naughty*." Walter affected a bad 'New Yawk' accent for a moment. "Tch-tch-tch. What's da world comin' to? Teenagers dese days don't got no morals. Dey don't got no respec' for der elders. Dey don't got no nuttin'. What's a fine, upstandin' citizen like myself suppose to do?" He frowned and took a deep breath when he saw Pepper's spirit, then her eyes, then her face, drop. "Sorry, babe. I guess I put my foot in it." There wasn't much else he could think of to do, so he walked over and began rubbing her neck and shoulders. "It's not your fault. That was my mother's big going away speech last night - how evil all us kids are, with our drugs, our gangs, and free sex all the time with anybody who's got money or stuff. As if! The only reason she's going out with *Uncle David* is 'cause he's got cash he's willing to spend on her! The bloody hypocrite!" "Easy. Easy now. Remember what you said. Tonight's not about her. So just relax. Enjoy your dinner." Dinner and dessert were done with, the kitchen cleaned up, the dishwasher loaded and going, and they were seated together on the couch in the family room in front of the television before she came out of her funk. "This wine's not bad. What's it called again?" Walter responded quickly. "Asti Spumante. It probably means 'The Village Fruit Wine' or some such nonsense, but it sounds good to us uncivilized folks." "I don't know. It feels pretty civil right now, sitting here with you. You are civilized, aren't you?" "Nah. That's just an illusion, a facade I hide behind. In reality, I'm a thoroughly uncultured barbarian barely half a rung up from my ancestors, the ones who spoke in ug's and scratched through each other's pelts looking for fleas and things and wandered around with their knuckles dragging on the ground. Just ask Sammy. She'll tell you. So, what are we watching tonight? You pick anything out yet?" "Sorta. Like, I couldn't make up my mind. You got Jim Carey's latest and I want to see that, but I was also thinking about watching something from your era, something *steamy* and *hot*! Valley of the Dolls is on cable." Walter couldn't help snickering. "Valley of the Dolls, eh? Steamy and hot, eh? Where did you hear that?" "I read it in the reviews. They said it was the hottest movie made in its decade, and when it came out, there was talk of banning it in some states. You've seen it, right? It is steamy, right?" "Oh, I've seen it all right, and for the time, it was really something. The first time I watched it was in my friend's garage. His Dad had a bootleg super-8 copy. Back in them days, back in the stone age, we didn't even have video. We had to make do with *film*." "I can't even imagine it. But you did see the movie?" "Yep. Of course, times have changed a little since then. Actually, I think that rerun of Seinfeld the other day was probably even racier than the movie was." "You mean the one with 'The Move'?" "You got it. How many people did you see in bed together, not married and not sleeping?" "Elaine and the mechanic two or three times, and George and his girlfriend two or three times. So?" "There's not much more in the movie. Match it up with a melodramatic plot and stilted dialogue, and you'll be bored to tears." "Jim Carey it is, then. You convinced me." Walter sat back in the corner of the couch while Pepper got up and started the VCR. She was definitely no longer the little girl he remembered from only a few short years ago. On her way back to the sofa, she grabbed the comforter he had brought out earlier, shook it out, then pulled it up over top of them both as she sat down. After some shifting about, he ended up slouched down and stretched out with his feet on a hassock. She ended up sitting with her legs on the couch, also slouched down, leaning against him. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, and the touch of her bare skin sent a tingle up his arm. Underneath the softness, he could feel her hard abdominal muscles shifting about and moving with her breathing. It was without much success that he tried to shut away those sensations. He began to absent-mindedly toy with the chain hanging down from her belly button. "Wine, please?" He handed her a fresh glass and began sipping on one himself. The partially emptied bottle was sitting, open, in an ice bucket close to hand. Pepper was working on her fifth glass by the time the movie ended. Somewhere along the line she slid down a little, moving more towards the horizontal and away from vertical. That's when Walter realized she wasn't wearing a bra under her sweatshirt. He could feel the warm, soft skin of the bottom of her breast pressing into his arm. Everything was under cover, so he couldn't see anything, and he wasn't even sure the girl realized what was happening, but he found the sensation impossible to ignore. He was hard as a rock through most of the latter part of the movie. The VCR automatically started rewinding and flipped into television mode as soon as the credits were finished. Some inane schoolkid comedy was on. Revenge of something-or-other he thought, as he vaguely recalled seeing it before. "Uncle Wally, can I ask a question? It's kinda personal." There was no doubt in his mind that she was more than just leaning towards the drunken side of things. He wasn't exactly sober either, having had four glasses of wine himself. "Sure. Shoot." "Well, it's about this guy in school. We've been going out for a few weeks now, and, well, he's getting impatient. He wants to, you know, do it." Walter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to will himself sober. It didn't work. "Do you like this guy?" "Well, yeah, he's cute, an' he's funny, an', an', I don't know. I guess I do." "So you're not sure if you want him, even though he's sure he wants you. Have you two actually done anything yet?" "No, not really. Just a hand job." "You doing him, him doing you, or both?" "I did him. Just once." "How did you two meet? What made you go out with him?" "Um, he asked me out. One day during lunch. Invited me to a party at his friend's place." She giggled. "He almost got me drunk enough that night to do it right there and then." "Let's see if I can picture this guy. Stop me if I get anything really wrong. He's either a junior or a senior, probably seventeen or eighteen ... got a nice car ... good looking ... plays sports, football, maybe baseball too ... fairly smart but not a brain ... really sure of himself ... fun to be around ... all his friends are guys around his age or older ... probably broke up with someone a week or two before asking you out, that someone most likely being fifteen or sixteen and good looking ... he's had other young girlfriends before her, too." He took a deep breath. "You didn't stop me. Was I guessing that good?" "You know him, don't you. You know Bryant. You have to." "Never met him before, I don't think. I just know the type. There's someone just like him in every school and in every office. A couple more questions. Have you two ever gone somewhere you wanted to, or do you end up tagging along with him all the time. Be honest." He could feel her squirming around, as though she were uncomfortable with either the question or her answer. That squirming, being up close and personal, almost made him forget the question. "Well, you see, he's always got these things to do. Important things." "Uh huh. And whenever you two aren't doing something he wants to do, you're making out. True?" There was a short, uncomfortable silence. "I guess your lack of response means I'm right. So, when you're making out, does he assume that you're going to go all the way, and when you balk and stop him, he gets angry and upset with you?" Pepper's non-denial gave him his answer. "Thought so. Just one more question to round out the picture. His last girlfriend, the one just before you. He probably describes her as being a bit of a bitch and a cold fish, saying she's nothing at all like you and that's why he dumped her. Please tell me I'm wrong." "It's not like that. He really likes me. He does!" "Oh, I'm sure he does. Just like he liked his last girlfriend, and the one before her, and the one before her. Just like he'll like the next one after you. Think about this for a minute. Can you see him sticking with you for years? Or being faithful to you while he's away at college?" A few seconds later, a sad, hurt little voice answered him. "No, I wasn't thinking about that." He gave her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head. "Shhh, it's okay. You know I get carried away sometimes. It's just that I don't like it when somebody's taking advantage of my baby girl. And that's what he's doing - taking advantage of a young, inexperienced girl." There was a little wine left in the bottle, so he split it between their two glasses. Pepper downed hers in two swallows. "You think he's really like that?" "I don't know. I'm just guessing. You have to find out for yourself. But if I were you, I wouldn't do it with him until I was really sure I wanted to, not just because he expects me to." "Maybe I'll wait a while. You described him just a bit too good." "You mean you'll take some advice? Now that's a first! The last time you listened to what I said, you were six years old!" "Maybe." Pepper's lips turned up into a half-smile. "That's probably the last time you were right." "Touche. Seriously though, be careful with this guy. It would be easy to make a mistake with him." "I guess." She wiggled a little closer, turning a bit as she did. He took the opportunity to slide his arm down a little. "Uncle, did you make any mistakes when you were growing up?" Walter smiled, then laughed a little. "What's so funny?" "When I was growing up, I made every mistake in the book. Some were small, some were positively awesome." "Yeah, but did you make any mistakes about sex?" "What, before or after I married Sammy?" "When you were in school, like me." "Yep. Just one, but it was a doozy. I'm not sure, though, that I should tell you about it. It's a little graphic." "You mean you've done somethin' I haven't seen before? *REALLY*?" "When you put it that way," he chuckled, "I guess it's not really that big a deal. Except to me, of course. One thing you've got to promise - you don't repeat any of this to anyone, especially Sammy. Deal?" "Deal. May I break out if I ever tell anyone anythin'." "Now that is a serious oath. Picture this - I'm fifteen, not really a nerd or a brain, but not exactly material for joining the in-crowd. Just a normal kid. Oh, and I'm still a virgin. I've never had a hand job, a blow job, or anything from a girl." "An innocent?" "No, not quite. I'd seen movies and pictures, read magazines, and spied on a few women. And I did get to feel up one girl, but we were interrupted before things really got interesting." "Anyway, one day Marie Garballi, the hottest girl in school, invites me over to her place. Never even bothered to talk to me before, but suddenly, out of the blue, she seems to want me. Boy was I dumb." "What, didn't you think somethin' funny was goin' on?" "I don't know what I was thinking or feeling. Terror was probably closest, but there's no way I was going to miss out on a date with her. Anyway, I get to her house about seven, and she's waiting for me, dressed, if you can call it that, in a black micro dress that's cut halfway down to her navel in front and just barely hides her panties. She teases me for more than two hours. We have pizza, which I buy, and drink beer, which I pay for. All the while, she touches, fondles, and strokes my body. I'm not allowed to touch her. "Finally, she gets tired of gaming around and starts issuing orders. Her first command is for me to take off her dress. I fumble with that thing for five minutes, trying to figure out how to get it open! Nobody ever told me about those camouflaged zippers you girls like, and she doesn't help in the least, laughing at me the whole time. "Well, when I finally figure it out and get that thing off her, I think all the embarrassment is worth it. She's gorgeous, tight, and built like a brick outhouse." "As good as Mom?" "Um, different. Marie's tits weren't as big, but she had a nicer ass. So there I am, standing there fully dressed, while she's prancing around in red bikini panties, nylons, and black high heels. The part I don't like is she still won't let me touch her, even though she's stroking me all over and even rubbing my balls and cock through my pants. It was hard to keep focused enough not to squirt in my underwear. That's probably what she was hoping for. "Oh, that woman was cruel. She makes me sit on my hands on the floor, then she stands right in front of my face while she slides off her panties. I have an eye-level view from inches away of her bush and pussy. It's brown-black and curly, just like the rest of her hair. When she peels open her lips and shows me how red, wet, and juicy she is inside, I almost lose it again." "So she was nothin' but a tease?" "Worse, but let me finish. She sits down in an easy chair with her legs spread wide and tells me to strip. I never got undressed so fast before in my life, for what little good it did me. God, I can still remember how hot and horny I was, and how high my hopes were that something would happen. Well, something does, sort of. Marie makes me stand between her legs, up as tight as I can to her crotch. With one hand she rubs her pussy and with the other she strokes my cock. Three or four seconds later I explode, spurting all over her tits and stomach." "Then what? You rest a few minutes 'n try again?" "Hah! You know what that witch does? She laughs at me! Calls me a useless speed-shooter, a little boy with no control - says she should have known better than to ask a boy over when she needs a man - snickers and throws barbs at me the whole time I'm getting dressed! I couldn't get out of there fast enough." "Nasty. Bet'cha never went back there again." "Oh, but that's not the end of it. Turns out she told all her friends what happened. That was the worst. Getting called speedy by people I hardly knew. I almost ended up changing schools." "You lived, obviously." "My self-esteem didn't. It was the longest time before I went out with another girl. I still don't think I was properly recovered when Sammy sank her claws into me. That was years later." "Poor baby! Scarred for life by some oversexed little bimbo." Pepper rolled over to lie across Walter's lap. Her head was resting on one of his arms, her arms went around his waist, her face sort-of turned up towards his, while his other hand, the one still under the comforter, rested on her bare back. He began to rub, letting his fingers wander from the waistband of her shorts up under her sweatshirt all the way to her shoulders. "Mmmm, feels good." She wriggled a little, then gave him a bit of a hug. "All right, Miss Sunny Daye. Turnabout is fair play. Now it's your turn to tell me a story." There was a pause, as she didn't answer right away. He looked down to see that her eyes were half-closed and she was grinning. He also saw, down between them, that one of her red-brown nipples was trying to poke a hole through his t-shirt and into his stomach. Her top was riding up. "Can't. Don't know any sexy stories like that." "Ba-lo-ney. I know better. Come on, deliver." "Awww, I'm too tired. An' too drunk." That sly smile told him she was teasing. So did the way she was watching him out of the corner of one eye. "All right, Missy, have it your way. But see if I ever tell you another story. Nyahh!" He stuck his tongue out at her. "Nyahh!" She did it back at him. "Nyahh!" "Nyahh!" "Nyahh!" They traded faces back and forth until Pepper couldn't hold back her giggling enough to continue. Walter stared at the TV until she got herself back under control, glancing down only occasionally. Each time he looked at her, though, she broke out with more giggles. The fact that he was running his fingertips over the bumps of her spine every time he peeked didn't help matters in the least. Eventually, she calmed down. He pulled the comforter up to cover her a little more fully. His other hand was still stroking her back. "I guess I can tell you 'nother story 'bout Mom. 'Member *Uncle* Deiter? 'Bout a year ago?" "Um, maybe. Blond? Short? Crewcut?" "Nah, that was Hans. He came along after she quit goin' out with the twins. Before them. Deiter had black hair an' a tattoo." "Oh, right. The big fat guy." "Who?" "The big guy. Six five, three hundred pounds, skull and crossbones on one arm, tombstone on the other one?" "Tommy! Forgot about him. No, he's the guy liked doin' Mom on the kitchen table 'fore breakfast. After him. Black hair, tall, skinny, hairy mole on his chin. Strange attitude, but funny." "I remember now. He always wore shorts and dirty t-shirts?" "Mm-hmm. Him. Anyhow, one day I'm lyin' on the couch watchin' TV an' they come home early. He's half drunk an' Mom's had more'n a few too. Y'know what she's like when she's sloshed." "From what you've told me and what else I've heard, she'd do almost anything with almost anybody almost anywhere." "Yep. So they come in an' they sit in the big chair. Y'know, the big one, the one I get lost in. Mom's sittin' in his lap so I can see his face an' the back of her head an' the tops of their shoulders an' that's it. She don't even notice I'm there. Mmmm, feels good," Pepper murmured That was in response to Walter starting a deep, one-handed massage of her shoulders. She turned a little more towards face down to give him better access and closed her eyes. He could feel the warmth and softness of her breasts pressing into his thigh, and shifted slightly, hoping to keep her from feeling his rehardening cock. She continued with her story. "They make out for a while, kissin' an' stuff, before he winks at me. I'm not payin' much attention 'cause there's a good show on TV an' I seen it all before. But Deiter's kinda funny weird, so I sorta pay attention after that. "First thing is he undoes her top. Mom's laughin' and kinda complainin' but not really. A few minutes later he winks an' drops her top on the floor behind her. I don't think Mom realized what he did. Few more minutes an' her bra's off too. He's playin' with her 'cause she's doin' this half-moan half-giggle thing. Both her shoes an' her nylons come off, then she starts sorta arguin' an' laughin' again, sayin' 'no, no, you mustn't, not here, not now.' Well, he don't pay attention an' the next thing I see is her skirt droppin' on the floor. "While that's goin' on, when he's not kissin' her, he's wagglin' his eyebrows at me an' makin' funny faces. Mom don't see nothin' of that, of course. Then she squeals - 'You can't be serious! No, don't! Please!' I can tell she don't want him to stop, an' he can too." "What's he doing? Tickling her somewhere rather sensitive?" Pepper grinned. "Shows how much you know. Mom takes a deep breath an' moans. That means he's just stuck his thing in her. Deiter makes more funny faces an' sometimes looks almost like he's hurtin' real bad, but he don't stop whatever he's doin, 'cause all of a sudden he starts wavin' my Mom's panties around behind her back, sorta like a victory thing. "All I hear is some weak moanin'. My Mom's tryin' to be quiet. As if I wouldn't know what they're doin' anyway! They always did it as soon as they got home. She's got her face in his shoulder an' he's rollin her around. It don't take long for her to go over. I can tell when he does too 'cause he makes a real weird face, scrunches up his eyes, an' relaxes an' takes a deep breath. He's watchin' me the whole time. A few minutes later I hear Mom whisperin' to him - 'Now what? I can't just get up and walk to the bathroom! Sunny might be in the house and I'm dripping all over the place. What are you doing!? You can't! No, not again, once is enough! Noooo, oh, oh ...'" "What, did they do it again?" "Oh yeah. This time though, he pushes her back a bit an' lifts her tits high enough so I can see him suckin' on 'em. Boooring. I watch the rest of my show, an' when I go to bed, they're still goin' at it. Next mornin' I found 'em on the couch, passed out an' naked." "I take it that wasn't the first time your mother did it with Deiter right in front of you." Pepper snorted in derision. "Hardly! An' guys before him, too. Like I said, Tommy, the guy before Deiter, he liked doin' Mom on the kitchen table 'fore breakfast. Caught 'em more'n a few times. I got used to makin' my breakfast an' lunch an' gettin' ready for school while they was busy doin' it right there. A bit disgustin' when his sweat flew all over the place, but other'n that, didn't bug me much. They did look kinda silly, with Mom's big pasty white tits jigglin' an' rollin' aroun', an' her blonde muff all wet an' matted down an' makin' those weird slurpy-sloshy sounds. You've seen Mom before. Imagine her lyin' on a table with her ankles by her ears an' that big fat tub 'o lard hangin' over her an' bangin' her good." Walter's cock gave a lurch as his memory supplied images to go along with her words. "Believe it or not, babe, I've never seen your mother naked." "God! You're prob'ly the only guy in the city who hasn't! 'Specially Tommy. He liked keepin' my Mom naked while he was in the house. She did it too, but put her foot down when he tol' me to do the same. Wouldn't let him make me do anythin'." "Well, he's gone now. You don't have to put up with that any more." "Yeah. Least David drags Mom off to bed when they're gonna do it. Makes it easier to watch TV." Both were silent for a while, superficially appearing to watch and listen to the television. Walter's one-handed massage slowly worked its way across her back, down her sides to the swell of her breasts, then followed the curve of her waist and spine, reversing direction when he reached her shorts. "Uncle Walter?" she asked, her speech a little more slurred and sounding much sleepier than it had a few minutes earlier. "Yes, babe?" "You sure you're not my Daddy?" Walter stiffened a little, his mind racing. His dark brown eyes misted a bit as his mind settled - oddly, he thought - on the memory of the last time his wife had fantasized that the girl was theirs, telling him how she thought Pepper was as close to having a child of their own as they were ever likely to get. "I can't be your father, babe. When I met your mother, I was already married to Samantha. Besides, your mother says Randy Quayde is your father." The girl rolled her head back and forth a few times in denial. "Yeah. Mom's been tellin' me that forever too. He's not my Daddy." "Babe, just because you haven't seen him in ten years doesn't mean he isn't your father. The guy does send Christmas cards regularly, doesn't he?" She shrugged again. "Yeah. But I know for sure he ain't my real Dad." Walter swallowed hard. "And just how do you know that? You would've been nothing but a twinkle in his eye at the time." "Blood types. Mom's a A-plus, Randy's a A-minus, and I'm a A-B-plus. I know it ain't possible. One of 'em had to have a B in there someplace, an' since there ain't no doubt about Mom, means Randy ain't my Daddy. I don't got one, I guess." He again wished he was sober, then wished that his wife was there for support. "How long have you known?" Her shoulders moved in a sort-of shrug. "Six months." There was a long, uncomfortable silence. At least, for Walter it was a strain. He couldn't tell how Pepper was feeling. It wasn't until he felt a wetness on his leg that he realized she was crying. He was still rubbing her back, still trying to think of something to say to her. Walter never gave voice to any of the thoughts or emotions that were running through his mind. An hour later she was asleep. He managed to stand up with her in his arms, covers and all, and carried her down a hall, through a door, and placed her on a bed. He pulled the blankets out from under her, then tucked her in. Aside from rolling over, Pepper was completely unresponsive. Walter stared at the beautiful young girl for several minutes before bending over and kissing her on the cheek. "'Night, babe," he whispered. "You have some nice dreams and Daddy will see you in the morning." There were tears running down his face as he walked along the hall to his own bedroom. ******************************************************************** Author's notes: I've never actually seen Valley of the Dolls. I don't actually know much about blood types either, but I think I've got it right. Cast of Characters: Wally (Walter) Jackson - The husband 38, 6'3", auburn hair, dark brown eyes, rangy and well-built, athletic, vaguely Italian looking, swarthy and handsome Sammy (Samantha) Jackson - Walter's wife. 37, 5'6", dk brn hair, brown eyes, rounded, fairly attractive Pepper (Sunny) Daye - the neighbour's daughter 15, 5'9", auburn hair, dark brown eyes, well built, athletic Bryant - Pepper's wanna-do-it boyfriend Susan Daye - the neighbour 33, 5'2", blonde hair, blue eyes, voluptuous David Wallace - the neighbour's latest boyfriend 37, 5'9", sandy hair - greying and balding, brown eyes Randy Quayde - one of Susan's old boyfriends 33, 5'6", light brown hair, brown eyes, balding, pudgy. Deiter - one of Susan's former boyfriends. Black hair, tattoo, tall, skinny, hairy mole on his chin. Strange attitude, but funny. Hans - another one of Susan's former boyfriends. Blonde, short, crewcut. Tommy - yet another one of Susan's former boyfriends. Black hair, tattoos, 6'5", 300lbs The Twins - more of ... you got it. ======================================================================= public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email: stbush@iglou.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------- All of Tom Bombadil's stories can be found at the web address: http://members.iglou.com/stbush/stories.html ======================================================================= -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /