Message-ID: <44314asstr$1063671009@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 15 Sep 2003 12:13:02 -0400 (EDT) Subject: {ASSM} Rediscovering Aunt Lu {Talley} (MF Oral) Date: Mon, 15 Sep 2003 20:10:09 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hecate (Irrelevant Note: This story was submitted for criticism to Desdmona's "Fish Tank." It certainly drew comments, one of which was almost as lengthy as the story itself! The Fish Tank asks that its contribution be acknowledged. Very well. Its effect was nil. The following is unaltered.) Rediscovering Aunt Lu by Bayard E. Talley, 2003 "Excuse me," he said, slipping to the left in front of her, "you're Aunt Lu, aren't you? May I get you another drink?" Her blue eyes narrowed on his face. "No one ever introduces you at these family reunions. You have to be Trace. Or is that possible?" "Trace Crutchfield, your nephew." He grinned. "Whether I'm possible is _your_ decision, but your glass is empty." "_My_ decision?" She snickered, regarding him speculatively. "I remember you. Are you still a peeping tom? You were the last time I saw you." She extended a hand from her shoulder. "This high." "That was a while back. About that drink ..." "Harvey's frozen brandy sours are delicious but notorious. I'm not sure I ought to have another one." "Aren't you sleeping over?" "You think I'm from out of town? Nowadays I live down the road. Oh, get us a drink if you wish. I'm still thirsty." He pushed through the talkative throng toward the punchbowl, where Harvey Crutchfield, the clan's shriveled gray patriarch, carefully ladled glasses of slushy yellow liquid from a monstrous tureen. When Trace held up a fresh glass, the old man noted the half-full one in the other hand, saying as he poured, "You excite my curiosity, boy. What's a divorced man want with a glass of punch in each hand at a family gathering? Or are you just dying of thirst?" "Aunt Lu wants another." The old brown eyes widened. "Is Lu here? When did she come in?" Trace shrugged. "This family is getting so large we can't even remember each others' names." Harvey cackled. "I worked hard on that." He continued with a frown, "How're you gonna do your part after a divorce?" "Divorce didn't stop Dad. I think the pill is a greater obstacle nowadays than divorce, Grandpop." "You may be right. I said no good would come of giving women control of their wombs. Lu, eh? Do I recall correctly that she's your aunt?" "She married my mother's brother." "Ah yes, Lu! She was quite a gal in her day." "She says about the same of your brandy sours." "Does she! You tell her _they're_ just as potent as ever -- and to be careful with them." The wrinkled visage produced a leer and another cackle. "I happen to know that three is enough for _her_." Trace threaded his way across the big room, returning greetings and avoiding the solicitous stockbroker who had married a cousin. Aunt Lu had drifted away. Peering around among gesticulating bodies, he found her standing alone before the glass door to the screened porch. "Here you are," he noted, arriving beside her. She smiled and blinked as if startled. "Oh! You remembered." She brought the glass immediately to her lips for a healthy draught. She was a shapely and buxom woman in her forties, as Trace concluded after hasty mental arithmetic. He recalled her with a round babyish face in her twenties. Now the cheek planes were more sharply defined, wrinkles had appeared in the corners of the eyes and the flesh below the chin was fuller, but the short dark hair showed no gray. She was dressed informally as everyone else in a short-sleeved peasant blouse, jeans and sneakers. Her upper chest and arms were freckled but smooth. "That's not all I remember," he said. "Isn't it?" She opened the sliding door and passed out onto the screened porch. He followed her, closing the door behind them to preserve the air conditioning for the others. The warm May sun shone into their faces from just above the newly fledged trees in the west. For the moment they were alone. She said softly, "I know: you remember _peeping_. What were you then, about twelve?" "Thirteen." "That was almost twenty years ago, Trace. You must be 33." "I'll be 33 in September." She laid a hand on the furniture before her. "It could have been this same glider!" "Why not? Don't gliders outlast people?" "Their covers don't. What were you doing behind that potted plant? Elephant Ears, wasn't it? -- long gone now. You couldn't have known we'd come out here. We didn't know it ourselves." "I was a dreamy kind of kid, Aunt Lu. From that corner of the porch, the way the trees grew then, you could see the valley lights all the way down to Summerdale. Behind that potted plant was my eagle's aerie." "I see." She chuckled appreciatively. "You heard us come out to the glider." "Of course." "But it was very dark." "The stars were out and my eyes were adjusted." "Then you must have recognized us right off. Why didn't you announce yourself?" "I was going to. But the first thing you did was step out of your shorts." She chuckled again. "No sense asking why a thirteen-year-old boy would clam up at that sight, is there?" After a moment she added, "I remember light through the den drapes, enough to see shapes. When did you step from behind the plant -- or did you?" "While he was ... eating you out." "Ah." Trace added, "I _thought_ he was, but I had to see close up." "And did you?" He grinned. "Not so well as I hoped. Your thighs were closed on his head. But I understood the sounds he made. You're a cool one, Aunt Lu. You never even squeaked." "Huh! I'm sure my knuckles were in my mouth. We were crazy to do it in the house with his wife upstairs, but we couldn't help ourselves. Can you understand that, Trace?" "Perhaps." "What does that mean?" "In my experience the man can always pull back. I'll grant that sometimes a very passionate woman might not." "Really? You've met such women?" He shrugged. "What man can be certain of a woman's motives? I've known women who were willing any time and any place -- and the opposite too." She smiled slowly, lowering her eyes. "What man indeed! Men have great curiosity. I've heard one or two claim they'd love to try it as a woman, but I doubt they could stand it." "Is it so hard?" "Sometimes." She took a deep breath. "You remember that night very well, do you?" He laughed. "You'll never know how I dwelled on it. In some ways I recall it better than my own later adventures." "You must have watched the whole encounter." "Oh, I did. When he began to fuck you --" "Do you have to use that word?" "Why not? It's certainly what he was doing! Anyway, the glider rocked and creaked. I was worried for you, feared someone in the house would hear. But the TV was blaring in the den. That and the concrete porch saved you, I think, because you were both in a frenzy by the end of it. Mel got up, pulled up his pants and left you without saying a word. I was just beside him. If he had turned the wrong way he would have knocked me over. I thought I'd better get out of there but you ... your head was thrown back with the biggest grin I ever saw. Then you opened your eyes." "That part I remember too," she noted dryly. "I almost screamed." "Did you? Your eyes got wider and wider. You said, 'I guess I'm dead.'" "Did you understand that?" "Of course. You had just fucked your sister's husband and you thought I'd tell." The woman turned slightly to face him, eyes flicking back and forth on his. "You said, 'Not if you kiss me,' which really surprised me. Why did you do that?" "I was chicken." "Huh?" "You were lying there with your legs spread apart and his stuff running out, the sexiest thing I could imagine. I _wanted_ to say, 'Not if you'll fuck me too,' but somehow I couldn't. You _were_ my mother's sister-in-law. As a kid I thought that meant something." She laughed slightly. "No kidding! You wanted me?" "For years." "Oh, Trace!" she breathed. "Is that why you never told on me?" He shrugged. "I'm not one to gossip. But yes, you were special. I'll always remember that kiss fondly. It was my first wet one." "I was sure of it... You may have noticed, Trace, that a woman is never so ready for sex as when she has just enjoyed it." "So?" "So I would have agreed to anything. I thought of it, in fact, as a way to help protect myself." He shook his head. "I wasn't ready for that." He added a sigh. "You were gone when I got up the next morning. Mother was surprised." She chuckled. "I didn't dare stick around." He laughed shortly. "I suppose not. See those Burmese blinds, Aunt Lu? If you roll them down while I get us more drinks, we can be pretty comfortable out here." Her eyes twinkled. "And what did you expect us to _do_ out here, Trace? Harvey will serve dinner in less than an hour." "I'd like to hear about your life, if you don't mind. This is the first time we've met in 20 years. And I'll tell you about mine, what's left of it." She studied him for a moment. "We'll soon have company if they see us out here." "Then we could go upstairs." She smiled slowly. "You want to discuss personal matters, is that it?" "If you're willing." "Then go ahead and get us drinks. I want to ask you a few questions too." * * * "Actually you could do a lot worse, my boy," said Harvey as he refilled the two glasses. "Lu's a widow. Rumor has it her last husband, the one who fell off the penthouse balcony, left her plenty of insurance." "Fell off _what_?" "You didn't know? It was a couple years ago, maybe three. He was an executive with Mayfield Securities and a real party hound." "Fell off a _balcony_?" "So they say." Harvey grinned. "By now she ought to be plenty ripe." "What are you suggesting, Grandpop? Did you forget we're related?" "Only by law." The old man cackled. "I didn't mean you should _marry_ her!" * * * His suggestion had been a tactical mistake. Lu or someone had indeed lowered the blinds, and now half the crowd was on the porch, talking and laughing shrilly, with the hunters and sailors comparing duck calls to foghorns and flatulent spouses. Harvey's cocktail clearly deserved its reputation. Listening to the cacophony, he looked around vainly for Lu. "Hey, Trace, sweetie, could that be for me?" He turned to find a woman hovering nearby with merry eyes in a flushed face. She was a cousin whose name had escaped him. "It's for Aunt Lu. Have you seen her?" "You mean Aunt Lu, the widow? Poor Aunt Lu! She's my father's sister, you know, was married to Uncle Ross." He chuckled guardedly. "_My_ mother's sister-in-law. I understand she's been widowed for several years." "Oh, yes, and it really changed her, you know." "Did it?" "Oh, my, yes! She lived with us, you know, the year after Uncle Ross died. She hardly left the house. Before that ... Well, I'm sure you know what they said about her." "Not me. I've been gone a long time." The woman grinned smugly. "I don't want to repeat gossip, you know, but they said Aunt Lu loved parties, especially the ones with lots of men..." She paused to study him and her grin widened. "You know, they also said Uncle Ross encouraged her at it!" He cocked an eyebrow speculatively. "Oops!" Her grin expressed satisfaction. "You hadn't heard that, had you! Not that anyone cared, you know. If Uncle Ross didn't mind, you know, why should anyone else?" He shook his head. "That doesn't sound like a woman who'd just hang around the house when newly widowed." The reluctant gossiper's eyes narrowed. "Well, she did! I was there, you know. Watching your husband fall off a balcony, you know, could change anyone." "She _watched_ him?" "They say he stumbled, you know." "So she lived with your branch of the family for a year, then moved back home?" The woman nodded. "Not exactly. She lived here after she got married, you know, the first time. Now she's got an apartment here, you know, somewhere." He smiled coldly. "Thanks for recognizing my omniscience." "Huh?" He looked around. A momentary break in the clumping of animated bodies disclosed Aunt Lu in conversation with two couples and a third man whose hand lay possessively on her shoulder. Someone had already furnished her another drink. "What did you mean by that?" demanded the cousin suspiciously. He proffered the extra tumbler. "That you were right. This _is_ for you." Her face brightened. "You know, that's very sweet." "Yes, I do know." * * * After the potluck dinner he found Aunt Lu alone at last, studying the spines on the bookcase wall, back turned to the crowd, drink in hand. "See anything interesting?" he asked, standing behind her almost close enough for their bodies to touch. She answered without turning, "Lots. I like mysteries and so does Harvey. Look up there. He has every one of the Perry Mason cases. Some of them are getting hard to find." "Have you read them?" "All." "Really? When did you have time?" "I lived in this house off and on for -- What're you implying, Trace?" He took a breath. "I've thought about it -- about you -- a great deal, Aunt Lu, not just for that night on the porch." She looked over her shoulder with a wry grin. "What have you thought?" He answered obliquely, "Harvey used to run the corporation out of this house. I recall huge gatherings. Do you remember the long table that used to sit in this den? They called it the boardroom then." "I remember." "You were always here for the meetings. I saw you in men's laps with their hands under your clothes, kissing them, going from one bedroom to another in your peignoir. I was only twelve but I began to guess what you were doing. In the summer I often sneaked out in the dark. You liked to sneak out too, I discovered. The first time I saw your tits was by moonlight in the grape arbor when a pair of visitors undressed you." "My god, you _were_ a peeping tom!" "Peeping on _you_, especially after the tits. You were what, 22 or 23? What were you doing, Aunt Lu?" She studied his face. "Just how much did you see?" "A lot, all with strangers until the night on the porch." "Did you see ..." She hesitated. Her chin came up. "What was the worst?" "The worst?" He grinned. "The most intense scene -- I jacked off for hours afterwards -- was the eleven guys with you in the greenhouse while Grandpop was in the hospital for his first heart attack." Her hand went to her mouth. "My god! Are you sure it was eleven?" "I counted them." She laughed. "I _couldn't_." "I've never seen the like of what they did to you in that greenhouse, Aunt Lu, except in sex flicks -- and we know what drives _those_ girls! But you didn't need money. What was _your_ motive?" "Oh, didn't I?" She sighed and gestured beyond them. "We shouldn't discuss this here." "Then let's go upstairs." "All right. I have to powder anyway." "Do you remember Grandma's suite? Harvey has kept it up. We can talk there." She held out her empty flute. "Get us some more champagne. I'll be there in five minutes." * * * He found her standing reflectively beside the huge four-poster bed. She took a sip from the proffered bubbly and gestured with the flute. "Maybellene called this her workbench." "Who? Oh, you mean Grandma?" She nodded. "Harvey's wife. She was his fourth. She was nearly my present age when she married him, after which she tacked two more children onto his previous eight." "One of those was Bingham, my father." "Who married my first husband's sister, which is how I came to belong -- if that's the word -- to this family." "Let's sit down and talk about it." When they had taken seats across the small table, he caught her smiling at him. "What?" he asked. "Maybellene called that four-poster her 'workbench?' Are you interested in why? Or do you already know?" He shook his head. "I didn't know her well. That truck hit her when I was eleven." "Freeing Harvey for wife number five, which was a shame. Maybellene was the one best suited to him." "She had some special qualification?" The woman studied him. "What do you know about her youth, Trace?" "Very little, except she was a beautiful woman." He gestured at the portrait hanging over the dresser. "I've been told she worked in St. Louis, where Grandpop met her. I understand she was an orphan. What can you tell me?" Aunt Lu sighed. "You may accuse me of slandering your ancestress." "Not if you believe it's true." "Oh, I know it's true -- the last part, anyway. At eighteen I married a man 20 years my senior and came here to live because Harvey had influenced my husband. Maybellene saw what I was and immediately took me under her wing. I became her confidante. In time she even let me read her diaries." "She kept diaries? Wonderful!" "You might not think so, Trace, if you saw them." "Why not?" "They were mostly sexual records: descriptions of her lovers, how they performed on each occasion, their personal habits charming or annoying, the size of their cocks, their effect upon her, lists of their gifts, how they smelled ... everything she could think of." "You mean she was some kind of ... prostitute?" She chuckled. "You ask that with a smile. It doesn't dismay you?" "Why should it? I like women who indulge men." "Do you!" The chuckle became an appreciative laugh. "Didn't my kiss tell you that 20 years ago?" "Meaning your opinion hasn't changed?" "Only to become stronger." Her eyes twinkled. "Most men insist on chaste foremothers. But Maybellene was not what is ordinarily called a prostitute. Seven different men supported her concurrently in St. Louis: rent, clothing, expenses, medical attention including an abortion or two. She was most fertile! Occasionally they brought friends, which is how she met Harvey, who made himself the enemy of all seven by marrying her away a year later." "Are you saying they fell in love?" "I think Harvey loved her uninhibited indulgence, as you put it. For him she allowed herself to bear two children, the second in her late forties, so yes, she must have felt some regard for him." She cocked an eyebrow and grinned cynically. "Although you shouldn't be surprised that neither child resembled Harvey." "I don't think he gives much of a damn about that. And neither do I." The woman chuckled. "That has to do with why she called this her 'workbench.'" "What do you mean?" "He insisted that she continue to accept guests as lovers." "He what?" Trace barked a laugh. "Don't tell me we have an Eskimo in our family tree!" She smiled. "Money has been in your family for several generations. It may have the same effect." He mused, "You're saying that ... Hmm. If I wanted to determine my genetic heritage, how many potential grandfathers should I investigate?" "I could narrow it down from her diaries if you truly wanted to know." "You have them, do you?" "Don't tell Harvey." "How could he object if he encouraged her adultery?" "Maybellene wouldn't let him read them." He struck palm with fist. "But this is fascinating! She was Grandpop's wife during the period of his greatest activity in business and politics, which might explain his generosity with her body. I'm curious. Did he maybe ask her to pump her lovers for juicy information -- or did the diaries record such things?" "She certainly pumped them for juice! But you're right: industrial and political espionage was indeed the purpose behind it. Or one of the purposes. She would make an entry the next day, often with detailed conversation. I recall an amusing case: a competitor's executive whom Harvey entertained because of political affiliation. The man was addicted to anal sex so strongly that no other view of a woman could fetch him. He claimed to get satisfaction only from Maybellene. For five years she took in 'product plans by ear and jism by rear' -- her phrase. Harvey sent her to Paris for a month in appreciation whenever the competitor began tooling up. After the second vacation she declined, saying French lovers were too selfish and demanding." "You think his preference of my grandmother was strange?" "What was strange was that he couldn't find another woman for it." "Are they so common?" She blinked and asked with apparently genuine surprise, "Isn't that your experience?" He smiled misleadingly and said, "Didn't her lovers ever catch on?" "All with any sense, of course. One deliberately gave her -- that is, gave Harvey -- false information. He was not invited back." "I suppose not. Do the diaries say how she felt about being used for that?" "Oh, yes." He said dryly, "I guess she claimed to like it." Aunt Lu grinned. "Many woman have fantasies of someone bringing them a lot of men." He studied her. "You too?" "Not just fantasies. Maybellene and I lived them, Trace." "You worked for Grandpop?" "My husband did." "How did _you_ like it?" "It had its ups and downs." She laughed. "No pun necessarily intended. Sometimes it was awful. I suppose that's true of any vocation. Other times ... it gave me the most powerful thrills of my life." "When you were entertaining eleven guys at once in the grape arbor?" "The greenhouse. Yes, I remember that night. My bottom was sore for days, which you only get with the best and the worst." He said dryly, "A woman has an advantage there." "I know what you mean." Her eyes twinkled. "I've heard men complain of sore cocks after two or three pops." "So you and Grandma did it for the money -- I mean, to continue Harvey's support." "Well, partly, of course. A woman generally tries to please the man who pays her bills. It's only common sense. But no one has sex week after week, sometimes hour after hour, just for money." "No man, certainly!" "No woman either, even though physically she could, I suppose. The fact is, we like it too, Trace." "Sometimes," he agreed half-heartedly. She smiled. "Always, at one level or another. Where can you find easier work?" "Is it really so easy?" She smirked. "Only a man must have it hard. Was your little cock hard when you peeped on me 20 years ago?" "You know it!" "And your fist going like mad, eh?" "Oh, yes!" "Wish I had known." She frowned in determination. "I've answered your questions. Now answer one for me." "Shoot." "Think about this carefully. What you saw me do when you were -- twelve, was it? And thirteen? How did it affect you in the long run? In any sense were you corrupted, Trace? Were your relations with women, your life afterwards, changed in any way because of it?" He studied her earnest face. "I don't blame you for anything, Aunt Lu. Except for that time on the porch you knew nothing about me." "Oh, I have no guilt towards you. That's not what I'm after. What did _you_ feel -- besides a hard cock? Somebody said you're divorced. Did whatever you learned from my lurid display have any affect at all on your marriage?" He chuckled slightly. "I don't think so. I never expected my wife to entertain my boss's business associates." "Did you know that's what I was doing?" "I figured it out eventually. I didn't know _why_, unless Grandpop had some kind of hold on you, which apparently he did through your husband and your own urges. Another way to put the question is: would my life have been much different if I hadn't witnessed your sluttishness? My answer is: not much. As a teenager I might have jacked off about half as often without the memory of your splattered face and your mouth drooling in the moonlight. One of them said to you, 'What do you think of _that_ taste, Lu?' You answered -- I can still hear the conviction -- 'I do love man juice!'" She chuckled. "I'm sure I said that. It's true enough, once you've turned me on. But we're talking about you. Did you demand blowjobs?" "Demand? From what I hear, cocksucking is pretty much part of every modern girl's repertory." "As it should be. Nothing feels better in the mouth than a cock." "There! Do you really mean that?" "Of course." She grinned mockingly. "What's the matter: never tasted one?" "No." He chuckled. "Couldn't reach my own." "Every boy tries, I bet. Get yourself a realistic dildo. That'll give you the idea." "Huh!" "Although I never saw one with a proper foreskin. That's the best. But don't be so incredulous about how it feels until you at least try a dildo." He drew a breath. "I'll take your word for it." She shook her head. "What was the cause of your divorce, Trace?" He sighed. "Work, I guess." "Too much of it?" "Yes, a clich. Her boss paid her a lot more attention than I did and she asked me for a divorce." "Kids?" "No." "Me neither." He chuckled. "Grandpop's objectives have changed. We both disappoint him now." "Yes," she agreed dryly. "He has already chided me more than once. Actually it's all rather interesting. He, the rich man, likes to scatter his seed as our ancestral nobility once did. I had to remind him that this is possible only to _men_." He chuckled. "I'm not sure why that's funny." "What's funny is his avowed purpose. He says that giving women the pill means the pigmented races are bound to overtake us. He's worried that in a couple of centuries Caucasians will be the minority even in Europe. I answered that the remedy is to give brown women the pill too." "What did he say then?" "That brown men are smarter than white. They won't let their women take it." Both laughed. He grunted. "Women eventually get their way, even brown ones." She studied him with a twinkle. "Is that how it seems to you?" "Well, don't they? Haven't _you_?" "It's still a man's world, Trace. But this is interesting. You know how people shield children from sex. Do you mean to say that my only effect on you at that very impressionable age was more frequent jerk-offs?" "Well, I don't know how I'd've been without your example, do I?" "But it didn't turn you into a sex fiend, did it?" He grinned. "Not any more than my friends. Maybe I was a touch confident with the girls." "Did you score often, Trace?" "Never often enough." He shook his head. "I never found one that loved it like you." He laughed. "I decided you must have been faking." She studied him, eyes twinkling. "Because your girlfriends lacked enthusiasm?" "You could say that, except for clit-licking." "Were they a bit selfish, Trace?" "Isn't everyone? Except you, perhaps." She sniffed. "Why except me?" "You were the most generous person I ever saw. Whatever they wanted, you wanted it too." She grinned wryly. "Trace, just how many of my adventures did you witness?" "You want to know the exact number? I first saw you and one of Grandpop's guests humping away on the trunk of a convertible." He chuckled reminiscently. "I realized he was fucking you and it sounded like you were loving the hell out of it. You weren't loud but you kept repeating, 'Oh, god, that's good!' over and over. Something clicked and my little dick got hard as a rock. I took it out and played with it while I watched and listened. That was the summer I was twelve. I don't suppose you recall banging on a convertible trunk. It was a Buick." She shook her head. "Cars are perfect for ten-minute stands, Trace, as everybody knows. This place was loaded with convertibles then." "I understand. It couldn't mean the same to you. But an hour later I saw you slip into an Olds with a different guy. The moon was full. I watched you suck him off through the window. After that I started paying attention to you, following you around as much as I could." "You say you were thirteen when you caught Mel and me? Then you must have played voyeur for a year." "Just about. You were gone for a month at Christmas. They said you went to Acapulco." "Yeah. More action for Harvey." She smiled. "I recall thinking you were always under foot. So!" She smiled broadly. "I had a secret admirer." "Yes, you did. You still have." "Really, Trace? Who is he? Not you!" "Why not?" "I'm hardly the same young thing you remember." "Neither am I." He stood up. "I'm going to close the door." "There are a lot of people in this house tonight." "So what? No one saw me come in here. I checked." She licked her lips. "I meant that you'd better lock it." His face brightened and he adopted her suggestion. When he turned back to the card table, she had also risen. He studied her with his fingertips resting on the tabletop. "Take your clothes off, Aunt Lu." Her eyes fell. "I'm not as ready to do that as I used to be." "Do it, Lu. Take them off." She sighed and pulled the blouse from under her jeans. It went over the fluffy dark hair without disturbance. Her hands tucked behind her to release the matching brassiere. Large round breasts spilled out, small nipples puckered. Throwing the garments aside, she drew her shoulders back and paused, apparently to await his reaction. "You had largish tits even then." "They didn't droop like these." "You should practice making them spin in opposite directions." With a sniff she jerked her shoulders in a curious syncopation. "This way?" The flesh rippled like jelly. Her right nipple revolved clockwise as he viewed it, the left counter-clockwise. The breasts slapped together audibly on each revolution. His mouth fell open. "Good god!" She laughed briefly but ceased to wiggle. "Next you'll want to see me suck them." "Next I want you to take off your jeans and everything else." "How about you?" "I'm not the generous one, Lu." "I want to see what the boy has become." In a moment both were naked and staring. After a good look she sank to her knees before him. Working her head side to side, she enclosed more and more of his substantial erection, until her nose sank in the pubic tuft. But she immediately released him and looked up, shaking her head in wonder. "Trace, you're the image of your dad, even here." "Huh! Of course you've had him too." "Quite recently in fact." Her eyes twinkled. "We're engaged to be married." "Wh-what?" Eyes wide, he stepped back. She sprang to her feet, arms encircling his shoulders. "Don't let that stop you." She laughed. "You and I keep it in the family, after all." "The family!" "A very rich family to which the regular rules don't apply. Come on, Trace. Let's finally end that evening on the porch so long ago." She giggled. "Only with an added fillip: I'll make a pre- stepmother-fucker of you." With a hoarse cry he pushed her back onto the high bed. END talley@cyberspace.org -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+