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Subject: {ASSM} Sarah and the Stranger {Claire Kellis} (MF MFm Fm oral anal incest) [10/14]
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Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2008 10:10:02 -0400
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Sarah and the Stranger
a Novel by Claire Kellis

Winter, 2007



Chapter 10: _Jealousy_



When the buggy emerged from the trees that shaded the Martin drive, 
Sarah spotted Bud sitting on the bench under the huge last oak.  "Let me
down, Daddy."

Her father halted the vehicle until Sarah and Joseph were clear then 
continued on around the house to the barn.

Bud flashed her a smile but looked solemnly up at the baby, asleep in 
her arms.  "How's little Joe?"

"He's got a head cold and a panicky mamma.  I feel like a fool."

Bud shook his head.  "No one could fault you for protecting your baby."
He got to his feet, took her in his arms from the side opposite the 
child and kissed her lips.  "I'm glad you're home."

"Me, too.  Oh, Bud!"  Her free arm went around his neck and she returned
his kiss.  "I'd sit with you but I ought to put little Joe down."

"Of course.  May I walk you to the house, my dear?"

She giggled.  "_May_ you!"  But she caught his hand as they strolled 
side-by-side.

He asked, "Anything exciting happen in town?"

"In _Faresville_?"  Suddenly she wouldn't meet his eyes.  "Why'd you ask
_that_?"

He studied her thoughtfully.  "When you found out little Joe was all 
right, you must've been very relieved."  He grinned a little.  "I 
thought you might celebrate."

"Well, I didn't.  Not exactly."  She sighed.  "What about here?"

"It's been a quiet three hours.  Jack went hunting geese.  I did hear 
two gunshots."

"Hunting geese?  With what?"

"With a Montgomery-Ward double-barreled twelve-gauge."

Her voice tightened.  "You said it was okay?"

"As a matter of fact, I warned him it was out of season."

"'Season!'  He ain't allowed to use the shotgun by himself."

He glanced at her.  "I didn't know that.  You don't trust him with a 
shotgun?"

"It's too powerful.  Tim killed a bull with it."

He chuckled.  "Now I understand better why he thought this was such a 
good time to hunt geese."

"I wish you'd known to stop him.  Where'd he go?"

"Probably to the pond.  But don't worry: I heard the backdoor slam a few
minutes ago.  As to stopping him, a fellow with a shotgun can take a lot
of stopping.  I'm afraid he sees me more as rival than authority."

They had stepped up onto the front porch.  She caught the screen door 
handle but held the door closed.  She faced him, eyes narrowed, and 
spoke in a lowered voice.  "So he left you alone with Maggie?"

"Huh!  It might have been worse if he hadn't."

"What happened?"

"Between Maggie and me?  A little disagreement, that's all."

"Disagreement?  You didn't ...  Jack is sure to claim you did."

"That was one of Maggie's arguments."

"'_Maggie's_ arguments!  You mean you really didn't ..."  Her eyes fell
then rose hesitantly.  "Why not?  She won't say no to anything in 
britches."

"The why is simple," he said gravely.  "I meant what I wrote, Sarah."

"Oh, Bud!"  Her breath caught and her eyes rose to his.  A tear brimmed
over onto her cheek.

He smiled.  "It's not something to cry about."

"Yes, it is.  I _hate_ lies and pretending!"

"Who's pretending?"

"I am."

The baby sleeping on her hip stirred restlessly.  Gratefully she bent to
kiss the top of his head, hiding her face.  "He can tell we ain't moving
any more," she murmured, "even asleep."

He caught her elbow.  "Then sit a moment in this rocking chair."

Obediently she plopped into it and began to rock slowly while Bud leaned
on the porch rail.

He shook his head.  "I can't believe ...  No, I don't _want_ to believe
you didn't mean what you said yesterday."

"I do mean what I say."

"Then ... what's the pretense?"

She looked away.  "That I'm ... as faithful as you."  Her eyes snapped 
fearfully back to his.

He regarded her gravely.  "You mean with the doctor."

"H-how'd you know?"

"I tasted it when we kissed."

She blushed furiously, lips trembling.  "Bud, I ... I ..."

He sighed.  "I've already made peace with myself.  You haven't promised
me anything."

"Oh, god!  He ...  It's a habit.  I've always paid him that way.  I 
didn't say anything.  He just raised my skirt and put right in."

Bud looked away and chuckled wryly.  "I've noticed you don't wear much 
underclothing."

"A half-slip, like my mamma.  Well, usually when I go somewhere I put on
more, but today ..."

"You were thinking of Joseph."  His gaze returned to her.  "And you know
how to avoid pregnancy."  His eyes narrowed.  "I think he takes 
advantage of his female patients."

"Advantage?"  Shaking her head, she took a deep breath.  "He don't force
us, Bud.  The truth is, I think his baby would be a good one."  She 
raised her chin.  "I ain't caught one 'cause he won't come where he 
ought to."

Bud's eyes showed renewed interest.  "That's a wonderfully female 
attitude, my dear!"  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, knelt 
and put his arms around her.  "It makes me admire you even more."

"Oh, Bud, you're a strange man, but I do love you."

When he released her, she stood up, opened the door and proceeded to the
nursery, where she bent and sucked Joseph's nasal passages clear before
tucking him among the blankets.  His eyes fluttered open but drifted 
closed when he found his breathing eased.  She went directly to the 
bathroom and spat before taking her seat on the toilet and sighing with
relief.  Hearing a giggle in the kitchen, she flushed the toilet and 
rose to investigate.

A naked Maggie was bent forward, elbows on the table, while Jack, 
overalls crumpled around his ankles, stood close behind her, hips 
plunging languidly as his shirt tails swayed.  Preceding her, Bud had 
passed the couple, apparently ignoring them, to break open the shotgun 
and sniff its breech.

"What're you _doing_?" Sarah cried redundantly to the two at the table.

Wide-eyed, the lad glared around, swayed sideways, stumbled on entangled
feet and sagged backwards to the floor.  His strong grip on Maggie's 
hips pulled her down atop him amid a storm of feminine giggles.  
Recovering quickly, she undulated in continuance of the previous rhythm.

"Now you're fucking on the floor!" Sarah added indignantly.  "What has 
this house come to?"

Bud regarded her with raised eyebrows.  A red spot had appeared on each
of her cheeks.

"We didn't start out here," Maggie responded with another giggle, "but 
it's even more fun."  She sat astride the lad, her hips sliding forward
and back.

"How'd you get come on your chin?"  Sarah looked up from the woman to 
Bud.  He met her gaze forthrightly and tilted his head toward the pair 
on the floor.

Maggie answered, "Young cocks are too sensitive."  She giggled again.

Sarah understood her reference only too well.  She asked skeptically, 
"When'd you have time to suck him?"

The question reinforced Maggie's giggle.  She finally answered, "When he
got back from his hunt.  His juice is always right on top.  All that's 
needed is for his tally-whacker to touch a girl."

A sharp pang of jealousy swept over Sarah.  Until Maggie's arrival 
Jack's "tally-whacker" had been exclusively his mother's -- so far as she
knew.  "Damn it, Maggie, in this house we don't fuck naked on the 
kitchen floor!"

She rushed past the couple on the floor to Bud, standing against the far
wall, snatched the shotgun from him and snapped the breech closed with a
fateful clunk.

He began, "It's not load--"

Sarah screeched, "Get up off that floor, you shameless slut, and put 
that robe back around you."  She thrust her weapon toward the couple.

Maggie, occupationally adapted to reflexive escape, instantly rolled off
the lad onto her hands and knees and scuttled crab-like out of the room
and up the hall.  Jack, left prone with wet manhood upright, rose on an
elbow and asked plaintively, "Would you really shoot me, Mamma?"

Sarah regarded him while she took a deep breath.  "P-part of me wants 
to," she admitted shakily.  She handed the shotgun to Bud, dropped to 
her knees beside the lad and crushed his face to her breasts.  "Oh, 
Jack!"

Kicking free of the tangled overalls and gathering his legs under him, 
he caught her shoulders and backed away.  His expression was 
incredulous.  "You really want to _shoot_ me?"

"N-no, honey, not really."  She smiled tremulously, tears on her cheeks.

"Then why'd you say so?"  He rose to his feet and stood over her 
angrily, fists on hips.

"Oh, god, Jack!"  She surged after him, threw her arms around his hips 
and buried her face in his belly.  His still erect organ pressed into 
the hair at her temple.

"You ain't no natural mamma!" he declared huffily.

"She's both mother and lover," remarked Bud, standing the shotgun 
against the wall.

"You stay out of this!" cried the lad, his voice breaking.

"You're right: I should," said the man reasonably, "but I can't just 
stand by and hear you condemn her.  If you think a moment you'll 
understand her problem."

Jack's eyes narrowed slowly in thought.  "You mean ... she's jealous?"

Looking up at her son, Sarah became aware of the penis rubbing her ear.
She pulled back enough to catch it in her mouth.  The lad twitched.

Instead of responding to the outstanding question, the man demanded, 
"Where are your geese?"

Jack was focused on his mother's bobbing head.  He said distractedly, "I
... uh ... I led 'em too much."  He looked up abashedly.  "They was 
ducks anyway."  He took a deep breath and pushed on the woman's 
forehead.  "Let me go, Ma.  I gotta clean the shotgun."

Freeing her tongue, she looked up hopefully.  "I'm sorry for what I 
said, honey.  You know I'd never shoot you.  Besides ..."  Her lips 
formed a smile.  "The gun ain't loaded."

"Bud said that."  The lad's face changed.  "Maggie couldn't've run 
faster if the birdshot had been stinging her ass."  He chuckled.

Giggling, his mother rose to her feet.  "She sure did scamper, didn't 
she?"

Mother and son laughed together.  She turned to Bud.  "What'd you 
think?"

Smiling, the man raised his hands, palms forward.  "I'm new in Rome."

Jack sniffed.  "This here's the Martin farm in Christian County, 
Illinois.  You wanta remember that."  He tugged up his overalls and 
slipped around Bud to take up the shotgun.  A moment later the screen 
door slammed behind him on his way to the barn.


* * *


When Jeff left the barn, the sun was three-quarters down the western 
sky.  "Going on five o'clock," he muttered to himself, a habit of his 
when alone in the open air.  "Half a day wasted, but don't reckon the 
corn gives a shit."

"What did you say?"

The female voice spun him around.  He found Maggie perched on the huge 
oak stump that now served as a chopping block for kindling.  She was 
clean with short brown hair arranged in waves behind her ears, face 
lightly made up, wearing her scuffed high-tops and an above-the-knee 
dress he recalled on teenage Sarah.

"What you doing out here?" he demanded.

"Can't I visit the barnyard?" she asked roguishly.

"I mean instead of helping Sarah fix supper."  Suddenly he smiled.  "Not
that I ain't glad to see you.  You're all spruced up, a sight for sore 
eyes."

"Thank you."  She returned his smile briefly.  "Can I talk to you a 
minute, Uncle Jeff?"

"Sure.  What's on your mind?"

"I wanted to ask who really owns this place, you or Sarah?"

"Tim Martin got it from his parents and left it to Sarah when he died."

"Oh.  I was hoping ..."  She sighed but her eyebrows rose with a new 
idea.  "Did she kill him?"

"Kill who -- Tim?"  Jeff chuckled a little.  "He got his neck broke a 
couple years ago when the spinner flew off his thresher.  Why'd you 
think Sarah did it?"

Maggie's eyes flashed.  "Well, she tried to kill _me_!"

Jeff's eyes danced.  "Jack told me about that."

"Where is Jack?"

"Checking the fence.  The cows'll get out if they can make a hole.  You
wa'n't really in danger, Maggie."

"Wasn't I?  She pointed her gun right at me."

His chuckle returned.  "But it wa'n't loaded."

"What ... did you say?"

He shook his head.  "It wa'n't loaded."

"She slammed it shut and pushed it in my face."

He barked a laugh but sobered immediately.  "Jack said Bud told you."

"He never ..."  She paused to remember.  "He did say something."  She 
crossed her arms and looked up at him indignantly.  "I guess now you'll
tease me unmercifully."

"Sarah won't let us."  He laughed again.  "Not to your face."  His humor
faded.  "But, hell, you did the right thing, honey."

Maggie brightened.  "You think so?"

"A pissed-off woman with a gun in her hands is nothing to fool with."

"I don't understand how she got so upset.  It was nothing new.  Jack and
I've been doing tricks right along -- and in front of her, too!"

He chuckled sympathetically.  "Sarah's got a lot on her mind today.  You
watch: at supper she'll be all right."

"Oh, Uncle Jeff, you make me feel so much better."  She cocked her head.
"You know ... we did get interrupted."

His eyes narrowed.  "So you did.  Jack says it's a good thing he'd 
already come."

She sniffed.  "He did but I didn't."  With an inviting grin she put 
hands behind her and leaned back on the broad stump.  Wide-spread legs 
hiked up the short skirt.

Jeff twitched and matched her grin.  "Where's your panties, little girl?
God, I love that clit!"

Plunging forward, he fell to his knees, face pressed into the aromatic,
hairy folds.  "Ooo!" she cried, throwing her head back.  For long 
seconds they formed a tableau, aside from the quivering bodies, while 
the chickens advanced around them, pecking at the ground and clucking.
It was almost feeding time.

When she screamed and backed away, he rose, threw off his overalls, spun
around and sat in her place.  She also stood and whirled to squat facing
him in his lap.  The hasty maneuvers scattered protesting chickens.  
Once her hand had guided the connection, her arms flew around his neck 
and she kissed his mouth through the wet beard.  Her hips began to slide
forward and back.

"Fucking in the barnyard!" crowed Jeff when their lips parted.

"How natural!" she agreed.  "Oh, god, I'm coming again!"


* * *


A quiet Maggie helped Sarah serve the others supper and sat to eat 
almost under Jeff's wing.

Jack noticed and declaimed with a sneer, "She ain't got no gun now." 

"Shut up!" ordered his mother, glaring at him.  "It was mostly your 
fault anyway."

Jeff grinned at Maggie.  "See?"

"But I was at fault too," said Sarah.  "Let's clear that up.  Maggie, 
we're a pretty close family.  Too close, I gather, from what people say.
Other families don't fuck their children, not even their cousins.  I 
guess we do it with everyone who can."  She sighed.  "That's against the
law, ain't it, Bud?"

"In most places the law prohibits all sex except between a man and his 
wife."

"It does?" she asked, blinking.

"Some laws even try to regulate it between married people too."  He 
sniffed.  "Of course those laws are seldom enforced."

"Then we've all been breaking the law, ain't we?"

He nodded.  "No two people here are husband and wife."

She took a deep breath.  "Them laws is stupid."

"For sure!" declared Jack indignantly.  "Fucking is the most fun they 
is."

"Dammit, Jack!" his mother screeched.  "Don't say that word."

"You just did."

"When you're thirty, you can say it too."

"Well, it _is_ the most fun!"

"I know it."  Sarah sighed.  "And I guess we'll keep on doing it, most 
of us."  She stared at her father.  "Just not any more in the barnyard,
I hope.  What if somebody comes by?"

"Nobody did," Jeff noted.  He smiled slowly, regarding her airily.  
"What was that about you and Ted in the haystack a few years back?"

Sarah's eyes widened.  "Nobody else was there.  Who told you about 
that?"

"Saw you with him across the field.  He 'fessed up when I put it to him.
Who told you about the barnyard?"

She tilted her chin.  "Saw you out the window."  Her eyes swung.  
"Maggie ..."

"What?"  The woman looked up defiantly.

"Just one thing: keep your hooks outa Bud."

Maggie squared her shoulders but grinned slowly.  "You think I'm 
fishing?"

"I _know_ you are."

"He's not your husband."

Red spots appeared on Sarah's cheeks.  "I never said --"

Jeff cleared his throat loudly.  "I heard something in town today that 
you two frails oughta like.  I know you will, Sarah."

Sarah settled back in her chair with a visible effort.  "What?  You mean
the REA dance?"

Jeff  blinked.  "Who told _you_?"

"Doc Spencer."

He grinned in pretended surprise.  "You had time to talk?"

"As much as you did with Bertha.  She told you, I bet."  Sarah grinned.
"Did you ask her to go with you?"

He sighed.  "Says I'm too old."

"Too old?  Huh!  Guess she thinks she's a spring chicken."

He chuckled ruefully.  "She is by comparison.  Anyway, we're all going,
right?"

"What dance?" asked Maggie.

"The REA must have some dough left over.  They's throwing a dance to 
celebrate the whole county getting electricity."

"The Are-ee-what?"

"You ain't been in the sticks much or you'd be grateful too."  Jeff 
smiled tolerantly.  "It's the Feds, putting in electricity for all the 
hicks.  The last farm still operating got it last week.  That was the 
Jensons.  That's where the dance is -- tomorrow night, if it don't 
rain."

"Rain?"

"It's outdoors.  They've strung a lot of yellow lights.  Skeeters don't
like yellow.  Wonder who figured that out."

Sarah asked, "Dancing on grass?"

"Jensons sure ain't got no dance hall."

"Who's making the music?"

"Bertha didn't say, but you can't dance without it."

Sarah looked at Bud.  "Will you take me?"

Again in exaggerated surprise her father interposed before Bud could 
answer.  "You mean you ain't going with the doctor?"

"I'd rather go with Bud."

The latter hesitated then smiled abashedly.  "I started to say 'Of 
course I will' but realized I'm the poor relation."

"You're what?" Sarah asked, blinking.

"I have nothing to wear."

"Oh yes, you do!  You can wear Tim's Sunday suit."

"Then I'd be pleased to escort you, ma'am."

She smiled brightly.  "Thank you, sir."

Jeff's eyes narrowed on his daughter.  "Is that smart?"

"I told Chalk Edwards Bud was my cousin."

"Who?"

"The telephone fixer.  I don't care.  I want Bud to take me.  He'll look
plenty different in Tim's suit."

Maggie's head turned from one to the other.  "What do you mean, 
'different?'"

Sarah bit her lip, glancing furtively at her father.  "I mean he'll look
better."

Maggie caught Jeff's arm.  "You'll take _me_, won't you, Uncle Jeff?"

"Sure will.  Wouldn't miss it for anything.  Always liked dancing.  How
about you?"

"Oh, yes!  We danced every night in Mama Belle's parlor -- with each 
other if the johns were shy."

"Wow!" exclaimed Jack.  "Will you teach me to dance, Maggie?"


* * *


The sun had just set, leaving the western horizon bright in reds and 
yellows, when they rode out together on the tractor-drawn wagon.  A 
proud Jack was allowed to drive, while Jeff sat with Maggie on the front
bench and Sarah, nursing the baby, with Bud on the specially fitted 
second.  The men wore suits and ties, except Jack, and the women their 
best dresses.  Their direction assisted the light evening breeze to keep
them free of mosquitoes.

"You ever see a sky like that in Chicago?" Jeff asked Maggie.

"Only in the morning.  Mama Belle's rear balcony looked out over the 
lake.  Some of us liked to eat breakfast on the balcony."

"Life in a whorehouse!  Wa'n't that more like supper?"

She giggled.  "If that's when you eat the most food."

"I know what else you ate.  Think you'll get some of that tonight?"

"I'm looking for it."

Behind them Bud asked Sarah, "How far is the Jensons'?"

"A couple miles.  Can you remember dancing?"

"Sort of.  I remember liking to do it."

"Maybe we can dance if I can get Jack to hold the baby."

"I'd love to dance with you.  You look wonderful, Sarah."

She smiled.  "Oh, Bud!  Uncle Ted is the only one who ever told me 
anything like that."

He blinked.  "Are the men blind around here?  Your face is one of the 
loveliest I've ever seen."

She ducked her head and blushed, momentarily unable to respond.

Joseph studied her with interest.  "Sumpin' wrong, Mama?"

"No, dear."  She tickled his armpits, producing a storm of giggles.  
After a deep breath she was able to face the man beside her.  "_You're_
the one who looks lovely."

"I?"  He chuckled.  "Thank you.  It's not just the men."

"Huh?"

"Who're blind."

"But you do!  And I noticed you remembered how to tie a necktie.  You 
had to help Daddy."

Bud laughed.  "I don't think he liked me reaching over his shoulders at
the mirror.  It's my hands that remember, not my head."

From the front bench Jeff said humorously, "My wife used to kiss me when
she did it.  I was disappointed."

"Sorry," said Bud, grinning.  "Never thought of that."

"I could've tied it," said Maggie, "and I would've kissed you too."

Jeff asked, "Who learned you that?"

"Some johns like that kind of help."

"Life in a whorehouse!"

"You said your wife tied yours."

"Her old man learned her how.  You're right: he treated her like a 
whore."

"You mean --"

"Forget I said it."  He raised his voice.  "You all hear that?"

Distant trumpet bleats wafted to them on the evening breeze over the 
rumbling tractor exhaust.  After listening a minute Jeff declared, 
"_Alexander's Ragtime Band_."

"It _is_!" Maggie agreed.  "How'd you know?"

"Heard it on the radio."

"You think they've already started?"

As she spoke the trumpet ceased in the middle of a bar.  "Tuning up," 
said Jeff.  An instrument with a deeper voice sounded next.

Maggie grinned around at the wagon occupants.  "This is gonna be such 
fun!"

"Wet already, ain't you?" suggested Jeff.

"Sopping."

He grinned slyly.  "Gonna fuck 'em all, Maggie?"

She tossed her head saucily and giggled.  "Probably not _all_!"


* * *


Two automobiles, loaded with riders, passed them in the last hundred 
yards under the darkening sky.  The crowd was already gathering.  Jack 
found a place to park wagon and tractor among similar rigs.  Jeff helped
Maggie down while Bud did the same for Sarah.  Jack set little Joseph on
his shoulders and the family made its way among the many people ringing
the stretch of grassy meadow under the strings of yellow lights.  
Orange, yellow and green bunting had been strung high between the lamp 
poles.  Sarah realized the bunting was actually red, white and blue, 
colors distorted by the lemony light.

The band sat atop a small stage constructed at one end of the lit area.
It consisted of a fiddle, clarinet, trumpet, trombone, accordion, bass 
viol and a set of drums.

"There's Doc Spencer!" exclaimed Sarah, pointing to the drummer.

Grinning at her, Jeff said dryly, "Now even the men will catch his 
rhythm."

She sniggered and pointed to another.  "There's Bertha Crowley, Daddy, 
looking at you.  Think she wants to dance?"

"My god, she's let her hair down!  Lemme at her!"  He plunged into the 
crowd.

Sarah moved away, Joseph on her hip, greeting acquaintances right and 
left, leaving Maggie, Bud and Jack standing together.

Bud said, "You seem to be looking for someone, Maggie."

"Percy, the banker.  I don't believe he's here yet."

"Do you remember these people?"

"Some of them.  But I haven't been home in 13 years.  They've changed a
lot.  I guess I have too.  Woo!  Look at that fellow in the white suit.
He's _hot_!"

Without a conductor the ad-hoc band chose its numbers by following the 
instrument that began a melody.  Trumpeted strains of Straus's _Blue 
Danube_ floated out over the crowd, quickly underpinned by the rest of 
the band, and people began to dance into the area under the lights.

Jack shook his cousin's arm.  "Maggie, you promised to learn me to 
dance."

She sighed.  "Well, I guess the waltz is good as any to start with.  
Come on."

Sarah came rushing back, followed closely by a strange man with the 
tanned face of a farmer.  "Bud, this is Calvin.  Will you hold Joseph 
for me to dance?"

"Howdy," said Calvin, regarding Bud with interest.

Bud nodded, taking the baby on his forearm.  He would have offered his 
hand but Calvin and Sarah promptly whirled away among the dancers.

"Up!" cried little Joe, hands raised.  Bud lifted him to his shoulders,
legs astride his neck.

"What do?" screeched the child in his ear.

"It's called dancing," he said, eyes following Sarah.

"Gonna fight?"

"I hope not."  Bud lost sight of Sarah.  At his last glimpse she was 
performing a graceful waltz, face flushed and eyes sparkling, held close
in Calvin's arms.  "God, your mother is a beautiful woman!"

"Beau'ful."

"I don't suppose you know who this Calvin is."

"Calvin."

"Not that it matters, I hope."


* * *


The women were dressed colorfully, some in short skirts lingering from 
the flapper era, most in skirts long enough to flare when they twirled.

Maggie abandoned Jack for a stranger after the first dance.  The lad 
stood morosely with Bud and the baby.

Bud pointed to a young girl standing several yards away at the front of
the watchers, one foot on the other, hands clasped before her.  "She's 
looking for a partner."

"You think so?" asked Jack eagerly.

"You only have to ask her."

"Um."

"What's the matter?"

The lad's eyes dropped.  "Um."

Bud chuckled.  "Cat got your tongue?"

Jack found his voice.  "You know what grandpa said."

"About what?"

"About the men killing you if you mess with their girls."

"They won't kill you, Jack.  She won't let them."

"You sure?"

"Do you see anybody standing around her with guns?"

"N-no.  How do you know she wants to dance?"

"Oh, she wants to, all right.  That's why everybody's here.  Go say to 
her, 'May I have this dance?'"

Jack shuffled forward.  When he reached the girl and spoke, her face 
brightened and she followed him willingly out among the dancers.  But 
shortly Jack returned.  Curiously one side of his face was red.

"She slapped me!" he volunteered angrily.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing.  Felt of her tit."

Bud laughed outright.  "Remember what else your grandfather said?"

"What?"

"To treat strange girls like men at first -- with respect.  You wouldn't
grab a man's tit."

"I guess not," he admitted in a surly tone that graduated to 
wistfulness.  "She felt so good I forgot."

They watched the dancers for a minute.  The girl had returned to her old
stand.

"Did you like her?" Bud asked.

"Oh, yeah!  She's light as a feather and she smells good too."

"Well, there she is.  Go tell her, 'I'm sorry I hurt your feelings.  
Will you forgive me and dance some more?'"

"You think she will?"

"Not unless you ask."

Jack departed doubtfully.  He spoke to the young girl longer than 
before, but soon she followed him back into the dance.  When the music 
stopped, Jack returned her to the sidelines and appeared before Bud with
an excited expression.

"She likes me!" he declared.  "She says she likes a man brave enough to
apologize.  Thanks, Bud, thanks a lot!"  He whirled away, back to his 
new love.

The band was rendering a slow version of _My Darling, My Darling_ with 
the fiddle playing harmony, when Sarah appeared minus Calvin, 
breathless, face aglow.  "Oh my god, Bud, I'm having so much fun!"

He smiled fondly at her.  "I'm glad to see that."

Immediately her face sobered.  "Who'd you dance with?"

"No one asked me."

"Silly!  You know the guy asks."

"Well, then, _Madame_, may I have this dance?"

She blinked at him, glanced up at the baby and looked wildly around.  
Suddenly she smiled.  "Little Joe, you want to dance with Mama and Bud?"

"Dance Bud."

The man warned, "Hang on to my head, stinker."

The baby's arms went around Bud's forehead, showing he understood.

They merged with the swaying throng.  He would have held her at the 
proper distance but she immediately pushed her breasts into him.  She 
quickly proved to be a fine dancer.  Though a plump woman, in a 
pirouette to the beat she stepped lightly, following him perfectly.  The
baby crowed in his ears.  He led her into several more.

"You're a natural, aren't you?" he asked.

"A what?  I just love to dance.  You're wincing."  She looked up at the
baby.  "Joseph, don't pull Bud's hair."

"Pull hair."

She kissed a chubby leg and grumbled, "Jack was supposed to keep him."

"He's keeping a new girl friend instead."

"He is?  Good for him!"  Her voice tightened.  "Maybe he'll pant after 
somebody besides Maggie."

"Have you seen her?"

"She's already been to the cars."

"For a drink?"

"Huh!  With two guys.  I hope she don't bring home a disease."

"That would be a disaster."

"She'll make us sorry for our free ways."

"Maybe she'll find someone else to keep her.  She was looking for your 
friend, Percy."

"Don't call him that!  He _ain't_!"  But she giggled.  "Don't they just
deserve each other?  Two whores together."

"Maybe.  I guess Calvin is a local boy."

"Yeah.  I went to school with him.  His wife run off with a cowboy."

"I'll bet he was curious about the man you'd trust with your baby."

"Well, yeah.  I told him you was helping us on the farm."

"A hired hand?"

"I didn't answer when he said that.  I asked him what he'd heard from 
Julie.  That's his wife."

"Pretty good distraction?"

"It worked.  He wouldn't stop talking about her.  I traded him in."

The band took a break.  Back at the sidelines Jack showed up with his 
new girlfriend and introduced her to his mother as Macy.  She was a 
brightly-spoken girl with a shapely figure but an unfortunate receding 
chin, who lived half-way across the county.  When she left to join her 
own family after promising Jack the next dance, Sarah demanded, "How 
much older is she, Jack?"

"Not much."

"_How_ much?"

He turned his face away.  "She's eighteen."

"They's younger girls here, you know."

"I didn't see any."

"Did you bother to look?"

Bud felt the baby tugged from his shoulders.  He whirled, ready for war,
but Joseph went unhesitantly to the tugger, who proved to be Jeff with a
loosened necktie.  "Nice crowd!" he said, winking at Bud.

"Did Bertha dance with you?" asked Sarah.

"She did.  I taught her my high step on that fast number.  Then I danced
with Mrs. Alsworthy.  You remember Dot Alsworthy?  Her husband died last
year."  He cackled.  "These widows!  Damn if she didn't run her hand in
my britches."

Sarah snickered.  "Did she like what she found?"

"She said, 'Gosh, Jeffrey, it's still growing!'"

Father and daughter laughed together.

Suddenly Maggie joined them, grinning with whisky on her breath.  Her 
face looked fresher than it had an hour and a half earlier.  "Wow, what
a party!"

"Where'd you get the mascara?" Sarah demanded.

"From Betty Willis.  Remember her?  Used to sell cosmetics.  She asked 
about you.  We just left her boyfriend's car."

Jeff grinned at her.  "How's life treating you, Maggie?"

With an answering grin she reached into her blouse and let him see the 
corner of a thin pad of folded money before shoving it back out of 
sight.

His eyebrows rose.  "Way to go!"

"This place is a gold mine.  But now I want to dance.  Where's that 
band?"

"I see 'em straggling back.  Won't be long.  Have you seen Chuck?"

She giggled.  "And some of his friends."

"I think you made a hit with him."

"I must've.  He made a proposal."

Jeff looked interested.  "That's not the same as 'he proposed,' is it?"

She shook her head.  "He wants to be my business manager."

"What kind of business?" asked Sarah, listening near.

"For sure not farming!" Maggie retorted.

The women exchanged sharp looks.  Sarah's eyes narrowed.  "The only 
thing we do on the Martin farm is farm."

"You think?  I'd have to find a place closer to town anyway."

"That'd be a good idea."

Maggie sniffed.  "I wondered how we'd get along."

"You're greedy, Maggie."

"And you aren't?"

The women glowered at each other as the music resumed with a fast 
number.  "Swing at last!" Maggie crowed then frowned.  "I'll bet not a 
guy in this town ever heard of the Lindy Hop."

Bud said, "The jitterbug is pretty close to it."

She whirled to regard him.  "You can jitterbug?"

"I believe so."  He smiled and extended his arm.  "May I have this 
dance, madam?"

Sarah's hand twitched toward him but Maggie and he had already stepped 
out onto the well-stomped grass, along with three or four other couples
doubtfully trying to devise conforming two-steps.  At first Sarah felt 
relieved; apparently bodies were not held closely in this dance.  Maggie
and Bud twirled and rotated separately, occasionally clasping hands, 
bouncing well apart then coming back together.  The other dancers paused
to watch.

On one of the coming-togethers Maggie flew up and over Bud's shoulders,
landing lightly on her feet.  After a rotation or two she did it again.
Sarah's mouth gaped.  How did they know to act in such perfect 
synchrony?  In a different maneuver he picked Maggie up from behind, 
hand between her legs, and tossed her in an aerial somersault.  Again 
she landed on her feet and the watchers opposite Sarah cheered.  A 
moment later they repeated the somersault, this time towards Sarah.  All
around her the crowd clapped and cheered.  Now she understood why: a 
flash of dark pubes had revealed Maggie's missing panties.  Her blood 
rose.  Bud's hand must have firmly squeezed her cousin's hairy pussy, 
twice now.

A third maneuver caused her to clench her fists in rage.  Maggie took a
running step toward Bud and leapt up, her legs sweeping around his arms
and the backs of her knees hooking on his shoulders.  Briefly the crowd
was treated to an unobstructed view of that hairy pussy upside down just
under Bud's chin.  With his hands under her shoulders she completed the
backward somersault to land on her feet and dance away.  A moment later
she repeated the leap but this time continued over his head to do a 
forward somersault behind him.

Now the crowd was cheering continuously.  "It's the jitterbug," they 
called back and forth.  Sarah heard a nearby girl ask plaintively, 
"Would I have to take my panties off?"

After several more maneuvers, the most spectacular of which involved Bud
hopping over Maggie's suddenly prone body, reaching between his legs to
catch her hands and dragging her entire person between them to stand her
on her feet, the music finally ended.  A hugely grinning Bud tugged a 
breathless Maggie back to her family through a storm of cheers and 
claps, no few of which landed approvingly on his shoulders.

"God damn you!" shouted Sarah when her cousin stood before her.  
Maggie's eyes enlarged with astonishment and she froze, unable to duck 
when Sarah's hand lashed out and slapped her stingingly into the 
following spectators, who dodged aside to let her fall on her back.

Sarah descended upon the fallen woman, gouging for her eyes and trying 
to yank out her hair.  Fortunately Maggie's hair was still too short for
a good hand hold and she had the sense to turn her face away.  Her own 
hands slapped belatedly at Sarah's face.

"Cat fight!" someone screamed and the crowd fell back a pace.

Jeff and Bud looked at each other in horror.  Jeff passed the baby to 
Jack, standing nearby with sagging chin, and followed Bud to the 
entangled pair on the ground.  Exerting himself, Bud had already pulled
Sarah off her victim.  A maddened Maggie would have swarmed up to 
continue the fight had Jeff not caught her securely in his arms.

Sarah turned enough in Bud's arms to aim a backhand slap at him.  "Damn
you too!" she cried as he ducked.


* * *


On the immediately ensuing wagon ride home Maggie, now sitting subdued 
beside Bud on the back bench while Sarah, nursing her baby, sat with 
Jeff on the front, asked her companion plaintively, "But what did we 
do?"

Bud heaved a deep sigh.  "I never realized the jitterbug was so 
personal."

"Personal, ha!" sneered Sarah over her shoulder.  "You slut, when'd you
take off your panties?"

"_I_ didn't," Maggie said with a sniff.

Jeff snickered.  "She had lots of help with that."

Sarah snapped at her father, "You stay out of this!  What happened to 
them?"

"To what?"

"Your panties.  _My_ panties!"

Maggie's voice lowered.  "I don't know."

"Would've thought you'd learn to keep up with 'em in a whorehouse."

"We didn't wear panties."

"Well, you're gonna buy me another pair."

"All right.  I'll do it tomorrow."

They rode awhile in silence.  Maggie squeezed Bud's leg and said softly,
"That was really fun!"

"Damn you!" muttered the woman in front.

Bud sighed again.  "Sarah, I apologize if I behaved badly in your 
estimation, but my dear, it was only a dance -- a bit wild, I admit.  
You would enjoy it too."

"Don't call me your _dear_!"

"As you wish, but I hope nothing has changed between us.  I certainly 
never meant that, however it looked."

Maggie huffed and turned away from him, releasing his leg.

The light left burning on the Martins' back porch was in sight when 
Sarah turned her torso to the back, facing away from Maggie.  "Bud, can
you teach me how to do it?"

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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