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Subject: {ASSM} Sarah and the Stranger {Claire Kellis} (MF MFm Fm oral anal incest) [4/14]
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Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2008 12:10:04 -0400
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Sarah and the Stranger
a Novel by Claire Kellis

Summer, 2007


Chapter 4: _Lot's Daughter_


After her men returned to the fields, she checked on Bud and found him 
asleep, the half-read book open facedown on the bed beside him.  Nodding
approvingly, she turned to the endless housework, this afternoon washing
down the woodwork, a bit of spring cleaning finally addressed.

After scrubbing small hand smears low off a door facing, she was pleased
with the pristine result.  It would have pleased Aunt Maude, who had 
taught her how to do most of this work.  Sarah began by helping her 
mother but learned the most under Aunt Maude's supervision after Mama's
death in childbed.  Uncle Ted had moved to Faresville when Sarah was 13,
and Aunt Maude had taken over the girl's education as a farm woman.  She
taught cooking and all the skills of caring for a home.  Among a 
multitude of other tasks Sarah had learned how to bake delicious apple 
pies, can fruits and vegetables, make homemade soap and produce tedious
but nearly invisible quilting stitches.  Most importantly, she now 
realized, she had learned to plan ahead, to keep her family and its home
clean and healthy.

Washing the woodwork was monotonous.  Her mind drifted to the night in 
her youth when she had first learned details of her family history.  She
had been spending the week with Aunt Maude while Daddy and Uncle Ted 
were gone to the city.  One evening the woman had served chocolate cake
and tea on her kitchen table and brought out some large loose-leaf 
books.

"What's that, Auntie?"

"Photo albums."

Sarah had seen photographs, mainly sepia tin-types.  One with her mother
as its subject was framed above the mantle at home.  But these were 
smaller, in shades of gray, tucked neatly into cardboard corners pasted
on the black pages.

"You'll love to see them, Sarah, but first wash your hands.  As we eat,
I'll tell you about the people and we shall enjoy them together at the 
table."

"Aunt Maude, why do you always talk so fancy like?"

"I was once a schoolteacher in Philadelphia."

"Philadelphia?  How come you ended up here?"

"Philadelphia is a long story," said the woman.  "Some evening we shall
perhaps sit in the parlor and discuss my situation."

Sarah enjoyed the dessert.  She noticed the fancy napkins and the fresh
flowers.  The world of wisdom in the woman's eyes impressed the 
teenager.  Chewing her cake she thumbed through an album.  "What a 
pretty face!  Who's this?"

"Your father's first wife, barely more than a girl in that shot."  Aunt
Maude's eyes had rounded.  "You've never even seen a picture of her?"

"His first wife?"  Sarah shook her head in wonder.

"Her maiden name was Lillian Garth."

"What was she like?"

"Well, as you can see she was a very pretty girl.  Jeff's parents, your
grandparents, adored her and welcomed her into their home, although she
was poor and hardly educated.  Very few had a lot of money at the time,
so they married in the minister's parlor.  Ted and I stood up for them."

Sipping her tea, she made a clucking sound with her tongue.

"What's wrong?"

"Well ..."  The woman grinned slightly.  "I'm afraid Lillian and I had 
trouble almost from the start.  I'd had Ted and Jeff to myself and now I
had to share."

Sarah blinked, mouth open in the beginning of delight.  "You _shared_ 
them?"

Maude fanned herself.  "Goodness, not that way!  What made you think of
me doing _that_?  The fact is, I always adored men's attention.  I was 
young and spoiled, probably a bit domineering, which meant I was not 
well accepted by my in-laws.  But Lillian was like the prodigal 
daughter.  In the first summer she was invited to a lot more family 
functions than I."

"Did Daddy love her?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"Then what did he leave her for?"

"He didn't.  She left him.  And you should be glad for the fact of it, 
if not the reason."

"I should?"

"Else you wouldn't be here, ninny."

"Oh.  What happened to her?"

Maude sighed.  "As many women used to do, she died in childbirth -- as 
your sweet mother did."

"Could I take this picture home with me?"

"Sarah, let me emphasize: your father was deeply in love with Lillian.
She truly was the love of his life.  It might be hurtful for him to see
it, which may be why he kept no picture of her."

"What about my own mother, Janice?  How did Daddy meet her?"

"Oh, dear.  That is a sad story."

Thoughtfully Maude took a sip of her tea.  "She was years younger than 
Jeff.  Her family was prosperous but her father was a storekeeper who 
treated her abominably.  She ran away and Jeff found her in his barn.  
The poor little thing was ready to give birth.  Jeff delivered the baby,
stillborn, cared for her and nursed her back to health."

After a pause she added, "I'm sure it was the best thing for Jeff.  He 
was heartbroken over the loss of his first wife.  Now he had someone to
care for.  In time they fell in love, married, and you were born.  It 
was the best thing for your mother too.  She came from a violent home 
and Jeff is the kindest and most loving man I know."  She smiled.  
"Except for one other, of course."

Sarah smiled also.  "Yeah, Daddy's pretty great.  I never saw him get 
upset.  So is Uncle Ted."


* * *


Having finished the woodwork, she changed and nursed the baby all he 
would take then looked in on her guest.  He was reading again.

Curious if he meant his offer of unlimited help literally, she lowered 
her blouse as she crossed the room, knelt on his bed and proffered the 
fuller breast without a word.  He smiled with pleasure and sucked half 
the end into his mouth.

"Ah-h-h!" she breathed.  "Too bad a man can't know how sweet this is."

He paused long enough to say, "Believe me, I do know.  They claim a 
woman's milk is the sweetest of all.  It contains the most sugar."

"I meant sweet feeling."  But he had already recaptured the nipple.

On this occasion she refrained from fondling his manhood, though the 
tented bedsheet revealed its response.

When he had drained her, she sat up on the bedside.  "Gracious, you're 
nearly finished with your book!"

"Next I'll study how Victorian girls treated each other."

"How Victorian girls --  You mean _Little Women_?"

"Unless you have some more Mark Twain lying around."

"They's a couple more books.  And we've got a bible."

"Indeed!  Are you familiar with it?"

Sarah lowered her eyes.  "I went to Sunday School as a child."

"I doubt they studied the parts I like.  Do you recall the tale of Sodom
and Gomorrah?"

"Um.  They were cities destroyed by a rain of fire."

"Except for Lot and his daughters."

"His daughters?"

"Whose story might encourage you.  They fled into the mountains with 
their father, took their pleasure and bore him sons."

"Did _what_?"

"The bible has several amusing stories we could read, such as Tamar 
playing the concealed whore to her father-in-law; Delilah who was 
supposed to have cut Samson's hair to weaken him but probably gelded him
instead; King David whose grateful subjects furnished him a bed-maiden 
in his old age; and that famous line of Jesus's, 'He that is without 
sin, let him cast the first stone.'"  He grinned.  "In college I once 
rewrote two or three in modern style -- with embellishments."

"You remember all that?"

Slowly his grin faded.  "By god, I do!"

"Who are you, Bud?  What's your real name?"

"I ... I ..."  His face fell.  "That I don't know."

Maybe he couldn't remember his name, but his memory was obviously coming
back.  Sarah returned to the kitchen, looking for chores to take her 
mind off the disappointment.  She found a jelly stain on Joe's highchair
and scrubbed it from tray to castors, removing much stickiness before 
wiping it dry.  Next she took her broom, homemade of broom straw she had
gathered herself, and swept the floor.  In the process a shadow caught 
her eye out the window.  She paused to watch her father saunter across 
the farmyard.  Now here was a man under no doctor's restrictions, 
equipped with everything she loved, especially the way he walked and the
way he smelled, although it was how he tasted that made her heart beat 
faster.

She tucked the broom handle against her mound.  A few brisk strokes, 
while she imagined her father in the broom's place, produced a squeak of
pleasure.

To her surprise he walked through the backdoor, wearing a beseeching 
smile.  "Still got any coffee?"

She said breathlessly, "In a minute, Daddy."

Taking his hand, she pulled him into the baby's bedroom.

"Girl, what ..."

Joe had been playing docilely with his blocks.  She plopped him into his
crib, where he sat up to protest but found a diversion in the rubber 
butterfly whose wings would not come off.

She turned to her father and opened his overalls.  Upon her knees she 
became a trollop, sucking his manhood to a stand and pausing to smile up
at him.  "I want to play calf."

His eyes were bright with pleasure.  "You used to say that."

"Who taught it to me?"

"As I recollect, I think your mother named the game for us both."

"Just the words, Daddy.  You already knew how to make your thing fill a
girl's mouth.  It feels so good in there."

"You know it didn't get any attention last night."

"Well, it's getting some now."  She sucked, licked and played at his 
genitals with both hands.  In less than a minute, groaning, he 
ejaculated plentifully.

The taste was what she wanted.  It was unique, not sweet like sugar but
exciting as a spicy broth.  Greedily she swallowed every drop.

When she backed away, licking otherwise dry lips, he smiled hugely.  
"Want to tell me what that was about?"

She shrugged but laughed a little.  "I saw you and just had to have 
you."

After helping her up he held her close. 

"Damn, you make me feel young, girl of mine!"

Joseph had given up on the butterfly wings.  He stood up against the 
bars of his crib.  "Mamma, down!"

Sarah took the baby up on her hip and whirled into Jack's adjacent 
bedroom, kicking his toys ahead of her.

"Stay in Jack's room with your blocks, sweetie, while Mommy changes 
Jack's bedding."  After placing a baby gate at the door to restrain him,
the indulgent mother paused to see how he would react.

Joe had other things on his mind.  Everything was new and interesting.

"Looks like he's outgrown his blocks."  Jeff said with a grin as Joe 
disappeared under his brother's bed.

"Jack told him he might find a bogeyman under there.  Didn't do much 
good."  Sarah sniffed.  "You men may like it, but I don't think it's 
good for a boy to be afraid of nothing."

She pulled off Jack's bedspread, blanket and top sheet but stopped short
at sight of the bottom sheet, covered with yellowish stains.

She bent over.  "My, look at this!"  Her voice betrayed longing.  "I can
almost taste it."

The man laughed and slapped his knee, "So that's how you'll wash your 
son's sheets from now on?"

"Daddy, that's not funny." 

"Girl, I know you love the taste."

Her eyes were smoldering.  "Yes, and your nearness after tasting you is
like ... torture.  Too bad Joe's watching."  The child's curious face 
had reappeared from under the bed.

As he stepped over the baby gate, Jeff's wide shoulders emphasized his 
big frame and reminded her of Ted, only a few years apart, built the 
same as his brother.  A big man with wide shoulders and large hands, 
friendly and nearby, always caused Sarah to moisten.

"What's your problem with Joe?" Jeff asked playfully, "You afraid he 
might see something new?"

She chuckled and blushed a little.  "I just don't want him to see where
he came from."

"Come close and he won't notice."  He lifted her skirts and slipped 
easily into the sopping slit.  He could see Joe's reflection in the 
mirror.

"Daddy, my God!"  She was hungry, oh, so hungry!

"Shhh, that's it.  Just rock forward and back."

"Where's Joe?"

"Behind me, playing with his blocks again."

"Daddy, this is going to be a belly whopper."

"Girl, let it fly."

His muscular arms were strong, able to hold her tightly against him with
skirts bunched above their bellies, despite the desperate undulations of
her hips.

Joseph looked up at the pleading note in her voice but returned to his 
play.  He had heard it before.

Her face was twisted as if with torture.  "Daddy, this ain't fair."

"Maybe.  But, it's hot."

"Oh god, I'm coming!"

His hands dropped to her buttocks, holding himself at deep penetration,
as she finally found the full ecstasy.  Her arms were tight around his 
neck.  She tried to suppress the impulse to scream, which appeared 
instead as a tight-throated squeak.

She could never get enough of his loving.  "Later tonight I want you to
play the bull real hard."

"Who named _that_ game?"

"Um.  _Me_?"

"Yes, bent over the feed rail in the barn with your skirts on your back,
looking back at me over your shoulder with the biggest grin in the 
world."  He sighed.  "I promise to sniff you, lick you and fill you with
my seed, if you'll wait till tonight."

"Give me a baby, Daddy."

"Jesus, Girl.  Now I'm really hot."  He knew, however, that a second 
climax for him was not in the cards.  "Hate to say it, but I'll have to
wait till tonight."

He sighed heavily, lowered her to the floor, closed up his britches and
smiled brightly.  "I never did get that coffee."

She caught her breath, picked up the baby, set him on her hip and turned
away to the kitchen.

"Keep Joseph out of trouble," she told her father as he took his seat at
the table.

He took the child astraddle his knee and bounced him absently.

She dropped wood atop the embers in the cookstove and sat down across 
the table from him.  "Coffee'll be a minute."

"Okay.  I need to cover the tractor before the rain starts, but that 
won't be soon.  I was thinking of Bud being here.  You heard anything 
more about him helping us out?"

"Oh, yeah.  He says that's what he means to do."

"That's good."  Jeff's eyes twinkled.  "With the farming, at least."

Her eyebrows rose.  "What else?  Well, maybe a little housework before 
he gets all his strength back."

The twinkle became a leer.  "I'm thinking of the last time you lived in
a house with two men."

She knew instantly what was on his mind and grinned.  "He's not in the 
family, Daddy."

"Neither was Tim to begin with."

She blinked.  "You mean ...  You don't mean you're thinking of Bud 
taking Tim's place!"

"No."  Her father shrugged slightly.  "Though you going to need a 
husband when I'm gone.  What I'm thinking is Bud taking _Ted's_ place."

"But Ted always worked in town, never on the ..."  Her voice trailed 
off.  "_You're_ the one who wants Bud to take Ted's place, ain't you?"

Jeff didn't answer immediately.  At last he said, "That's a nice big 
dick he's got, as you ought to know."

She heaved a sigh.  "Yeah, I know."

The man seemed surprised.  "You mean you ain't got it between your legs
yet?"

"No."  She lowered her eyes.  "He ain't strong enough yet."

Jeff chuckled fondly.  "I'm took aback that you ain't got in atop him.
You recall how you acted the night you caught me and Ted in a 69?"

She took a breath, eyes distant.  "Oh, god!  I won't ever forget that."

"I looked up and you was standing in the bedroom door with your hand 
under your skirt."

"I didn't know men would do that to each other.  And I loved you both.
I almost came watching you.  I had to get in there with you."

"You sure did get in!  You sucked both our cocks at once.  You remember
that?"

"Oh, god!"  Her chin sagged.

"And you knew exactly what you wanted.  Surprised both of us.  Remember
what you said?"

"Umm.  What did I say?"

"'Can the cow take two bulls at once?'"

She giggled.  "I did say that.  You said, 'Not a cow.'"  She sat in 
silent recall, adding pensively, "That was the first time I ever let 
anybody up my ass."

"I got that cherry too."

"Yeah, Daddy, you did."  Her hand covered his.  "Why didn't you and 
Uncle Ted ever do it again?"

The man sighed, looking away.  "We were half-drunk.  Ted had to get 
soused to suck a cock, much less share his niece.  Your tits was growing
good but you was only thirteen.  The chance didn't come up again before
you married Tim and went off with him."  His eyes brightened.  "But if 
Bud's going to help us out this summer, who knows what might happen?"

She licked her lips.  "I think that coffee's ready."


* * *


Two hours later Bud limped into the kitchen to join them for supper, a 
warmup of the dried beef hash and snap beans from dinner.  He admitted 
he was feeling better and demonstrated it by eating heartily.

When the conversation flagged, Sarah announced, "Bud's been reading.  
Doctor's orders.  Have you finished your book, Bud?"

"Yes, thank you.  I was younger than Jack the first time I read it.  
This time I realized it wasn't written for boys."

"What book is that?" asked Jeff, looking up.

Apparently Jeff was also familiar with _Huckleberry Finn_.  The two men
held a lively discussion that agreed on its preference of a mature 
reader.  Jack's head turned from one to the other.  "Can I read it?" he
asked when their voices ceased.

"Of course," said Bud.  "It's on the stand beside my bed."

"What you got for him next?" Jeff asked, looking at Sarah.

Bud answered for her with a wink.  "We thought we'd study the bible 
together."

Jeff blinked.  "We've got a bible?"

"Tim's family bible," she explained.

Jeff looked away.  "My wife never kept one."

"Do you know the story of Lot's daughters, Daddy?"

He regarded her.  "Why should I?"

She took a breath.  "Eat some more hash."

A bit later Bud said, "I heard a radio playing an hour ago.  Did the 
news come on?"

"I was listening to _The Guiding Light_," said Sarah.

"Something inspirational?"

"Not really.  But it's very interesting, about a doctor."

Jeff grinned.  "Gets in bed with his patients, does he?"

"Not on the _radio_, Daddy!"  She giggled.  "People don't get in bed on
the radio.  They don't go to the bathroom either."

"Too bad."  He winked at Bud.  "Men and women pissing sound different.
It'd be interesting."

Jack joined in.  "Their farts sound different too."

Sarah's chin came up.  "Both of you stop it!  We're eating!"

Bud asked, "Has anybody heard any news this week?"

Jeff said, "You mean from Europe?  A couple nights back they was 
carrying on about Hitler getting 99 per-cent of the vote in Austria."

"Favoring the Anschluss?"

"Yeah."

"99 per-cent!"

"Yeah.  Ain't it a blast?"

Jeff wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up.  "You might
like to know: they said last night the cops shot one of the Grissom 
escapees dead in Springfield.  Only one is left free.  So far no sign of
that one."

Bud's eyes widened.

Sarah put down her fork with a clatter.  "That don't matter to us."

"Probably not."  Jeff turned away.  "Beulah's about to drop a calf.  I 
better check on her."

"Can I help?" asked Jack, hastily standing up.

Jeff grinned.  "You just want to fool around in her bottom.  Sure, come
on."


* * *


The night was mild, all quiet and peaceful, with Bud reading while Jeff
and Jack tended to the gravid cow.  Sarah lowered her ironing board from
its clever hatch beside the door to the hall.  The electric iron heated
while she gathered the baskets of clothing removed from the outside 
lines just after supper, ahead of the gathering clouds.  A small radio 
on its wall shelf softly played the big bands.

She looked about the kitchen, assuring the room was picked up.  Joseph's
toys were all in the box Tim had made for Jack when he was a baby.  
Through a window she could see that the light in the barn was still on.

Men's shirts began the ironing.  It was familiar work that that left her
mind free to think of Daddy and the sensual games they still played, 
which produced a smile.  The hot iron gave the room a warm aroma.  A log
fell with a hiss and a thump in the wood stove.  A dog barked in the 
distance and the radio announced 8:30, Central Standard Time, before 
beginning the news.  She listened with half an ear.  The fifth Grissom 
escapee was still at large.  

The gingerbread clock in the hall struck nine times.  It always ran 
fast.  She thought of resetting it and looking in on Bud, but another 
basket of ironing remained.  After a while the wind kicked up and water
began to thrum on the metal roof, a typical brief rainstorm of May.

She loved this house.  It gave her a sense of place, where she could 
raise her children and care for her father, and of course was filled 
with good memories of her beloved Tim.  Thinking of him while searching
for a missing button, Sarah found his mother's antique lace scarf at the
bottom of the ironing basket.  Holding it up, she recalled the woman's 
kindness.  Daddy had found her amusing.  "Ellen always wears the 
craziest hats!"

Daddy!  She dwelled on their intimate moments.  He had been her first 
man in every way and was still her most reliable.  Nevertheless when she
married Tim, she had lived with her husband, letting him be a wonderful
father also, until that fateful day.  Only then had she sought Daddy's 
safe arms again.  

She looked up as Jeff and Jack came through the back door.  Jack 
announced, grinning from ear to ear, "I'm a midwife!"

"Good for you!" said Sarah with a nod.  "Did you wash your hands?"

"Oh, yeah!  Grandpa and I washed each other off with the watering hose.
And the rain.  Gosh, that's cold!"

She frowned, thinking of them naked together, remembering her father's 
dalliance with his brother and now Bud, not pleased that the man might 
tempt the boy that way.  But she said only, "Did you put your clothes 
back on without drying off?"

"Beulah soaked the towel."

"Well, they's dry ones in the bathroom."

Jack left the room.  With the prerogative of the man of the house Jeff 
dried his face using her dish towel.  "We got a new Rebuck," he said, 
naming the bull they had reluctantly sent to the slaughterhouse for 
food.

"A healthy calf?"

"Looks to be."

They both smiled in congratulation.

"Are you still ironing, girl?"

"The kitchen is warm and inviting.  It's a pleasure to iron."

"It makes your nose red.  Did you know that?"

She displayed a startled smile.  "Ironing does?"

"It's cute."  Sitting, he watched her deal with pillow cases and cotton
sheets.  "You really like housework, don't you?  You keep house the best
I ever saw."

"Daddy, I owe so much to Aunt Maude.  She taught me how to cook and 
clean house after Mama died.  Aunt Maude took over mothering me, showed
me how to bake them apple pies you love, how to can fruits and 
vegetables, make homemade soap and do her hard quilting stitches.   If 
you like what I do, she deserves the credit."   She looked up with wet 
eyes.  "I'm really going to miss her."

His gaze became speculative.  "What'd she say about you carrying on with
Ted?"

Sarah giggled defensively.  "I didn't think she knew about it."

"You _didn't_?"

"The other day, when I rode over to say goodbye, I found out different."

"What'd she say?"

Sarah's chin rose.  "That she was glad of it after she lost her last 
baby."

He chuckled and nodded.  "I ain't surprised.  Ted says she don't have 
much use for fucking.  Oh, she takes care of him, cleaves to him as the
preacher says.  She spreads her legs when he asks but won't go further."

Sarah smiled slowly, remembering her first time with Uncle Ted in the 
haystack.  "I went further."

"You sweetheart!  Ted told me how surprised he was."

Her eyes widened.  "He told you?"

"Why not?  I think it bothered him a little.  You were, what, about 
thirteen?"

"What'd you say to him?"

"That your mother taught you to keep it in the family."

Sarah laughed outright.  "Well, she did.  Even if she never said those 
words."

Jeff glanced away.  "I'm curious about something."

"What?"

"Ted was the only man you took while you was living with Tim, wa'n't 
he?"

"Well ... and Doc Spenser."

"Yeah, the doc."  Jeff grinned.  "I heard from old man Grouse how doc 
keeps from scattering his brats all over the county."

"What does old man Grouse know about it?"

"The women talk and his wife told _him_."

Sarah thought a moment and giggled.  "I know it too."

"Yeah, I guess you do.  Did Grouse get it right?"

"I don't know what Mr. Grouse said, but Doc Spence only comes in a 
woman's mouth."

"Right.  You got any idea how hard that is?"

"Hard?  The only thing hard about it is the cock."

"That's all you know!  Once that stuff starts boiling, it's damn hard to
hold back."

"So?"

"If it starts in a pussy, nine times out of ten that's where it's 
going."

"If you say so.  Why'd you ask me if I only cheated with Ted?"

He shook his head with a mischievous expression.  She shrugged, draped a
sheet across the ironing board and began to stroke it vigorously.

"I wouldn't call it cheating," said Jeff judiciously.  "Ted is family...
Girl, you are an amazing homemaker!"

Her look was coy.  "Is that all?"

His strong arms encircled her from behind, hands compressing her 
breasts.  "Honey, you mean everything to me.  You're the only one who 
still loves me despite the young men all around you without warts and 
liver spots.  My hair's thinning and I got a bald spot on top of my 
head."

She turned and touched his face.  "Daddy, you've had that bald spot 
since you was 50."

"Huh, yeah, I guess so."

She folded the last sheet and put her iron away.  "It's time for bed."

"What I was thinking," he said with a leer.

"My garden needs to be tilled.  Will you remind Jack tomorrow?"  She 
swung the ironing board up into its niche in the wall.

He nodded and added logs to the wood stove while she checked Joseph and
covered him with another blanket.

In her bedroom she quickly powdered her breasts lightly and applied a 
touch of red lipstick to lips and cheeks.  Naked atop a clean sheet, she
waited for her father.

He was not long arriving.  He stood in her doorway, equally naked, lit 
by her bedside lamp.  The aroma of a working man wafted to her.  She 
found it far from offensive.  Her vagina moistened.

"I love you, Daddy."

The sweet soprano completed his erection.  "You mean after all these 
years I'm the reason for that rosy glow on your cheeks?"

Indirectly, she thought but said only, "Daddy, you know you're the only
man I've truly loved since I was a child."

He nodded.  "And I thank you for showing it since then too.  You know, 
that touch of color on your lips really gets me."

She couldn't resist.  "Does it remind you of the women in Cleveland?"

"They was a hot crowd!"

"Oh?  What'd they do for you I won't?"

"Nothing I care about.  What it reminds me of is you at thirteen, the 
way Ted saw you."

She spread her knees, feeling the air cool in her moisture.

Jeff grinned widely.  "What a sight!  You hussy, should I call Jack to 
help?"

She swallowed.  "Oh, daddy, that's wicked."

"You didn't say so when it was Ted and me."

"Oh, but it was."  She shivered.

"Wicked enough for you?  I know you liked it.  How about if I call Bud?"

"He's ... not well."

"Yet."

"Are you teasing me, Daddy?"

"Maybe I'm teasing me too."

He stood beside the bed.  She lunged to a sitting position and bent over
to gobble and taste him.  

"Easy, girl, or I'll come."

"You taste so good."  She slurped him with a combination of tongue and 
suction that made him twitch.  Reluctantly she let go.

Climbing onto the mattress, he held her close, taking the time to 
examine her familiar beauty.

She fondled his erection.  "Daddy, my tits are full."

Her breasts were just enormous and uncomfortable.  He tortured her at 
first by flicking the leaky nipples with his tongue, but when she jammed
a breast into his mouth, he began to suckle in earnest.  "Oh, god," she
murmured, "that feels so good!  If only ..."

"Umm?"

"If only you could fuck me too."

He slipped three fingers into her while his thumb compressed the 
thrilling nub.  She arched her back, moaning.  His wide form was 
everything she ever imagined a man to be: strong, powerful, muscular, 
wide as a door and hairy to her hands exploring his chest.  As he drank
from her nipples, they were almost nose-to-nose, sharing the animal 
magnetism, lust-laden eyes staring.

He slipped down her body and licked the nub of her feelings.  His tongue
swiped repeatedly and lips gently suckled, driving her towards a climax.
When he mounted her, she responded with a rhythm and ferocity that 
exceeded his own.  She kissed his neck sweetly, her arms lifting the 
heavy breasts so that his pectorals felt the erect nipples.

Always his lips were gentle, tender, and careful, but his manhood 
pounded in and out of her fiercely, stretching the flesh unbearably.

She came, shrieking incoherently, with arms around his neck and legs 
around his hips.  He cried out her name, voice husky with emotion.

Afterwards he lay beside her, holding her against him, listening to the
rain against the window.  The dim bedside light remained lit.

Still breathing hard, she said, "I love it ... when you're the bull."

"Then I guess I wa'n't too strong."

"Just right, Daddy.  When you bang me like that, it sends me to heaven."

He chuckled.  "Sarah, I think some of the family is watching us."

She raised her head and sighed.  "We do keep forgetting to close the 
door."

His chuckled became a short laugh.

She rose on an elbow.  "Jack, come on in.  I could use your help with my
other breast."

"Don't be shy, boy" Jeff added.

The lad walked to the bed hesitantly.  He was wearing a nightshirt, 
tented in front.  He said, "I ... I didn't mean to watch."

"Didn't you?" asked Jeff.

"I caught a glimpse and then ... then I couldn't help it."

"You liked the look of my bare ass, did you?"

"You got big dimples that come and go.  You really whang it, don't you!"

Man and woman giggled.  Sarah said, "Daddy'll move over a bit.  Come 
under the covers so you won't get cold."

His mother's bed was warm with body heat and smelled richly of recent 
sex.  As he slid beside the woman's moist body, his hand inadvertently 
clutched his testicles.

Noticing the gesture, his mother asked, "What's the matter?  Surely you
ain't embarrassed!"

"The way this bed smells, it kind of got me in the balls."

"Oh, dear!"

But Jeff laughed indulgently.  "Fucking smells different in men and 
women."

"Different?"

"I mean different from a bull and a cow."

"It would, wouldn't it?"

"Feels different too."

She giggled.  "How do you know how it feels to a cow?"

"Huh!  Cows just look surprised."  He chuckled.  "So do bulls, for that
matter."

Sarah said, "Animals don't really understand what's going on, the poor 
things!"  Her hand found Jack's and brought it her breast.  "Feel how 
hard that is, son?  I need a little help."

"It's hot under here!"  The lad released her long enough to throw off 
the upper sheet.  Rising on his elbow, he surveyed the woman in the dim
light.  A lump formed in his throat.  "Mom, you're just so pretty."

She closed her eyes as he began to suckle her breast.

"What she really needs," said Jeff, "is another poke in the hot box."

"Dad!" cried Sarah.

Jack looked up inquiringly while continuing to suckle.

His grandfather continued with a grin, "A woman's never so ready to fuck
as when she just has."

Sarah failed to comment.  Jack released her long enough to declare, 
"Mom, I love you."

Her eyes seemed longing but she responded only, "I love you too, dear."

His mouth returned to the breast.  Sucking one, he fondled the other, 
creating exquisite harmonies for her.

Jeff turned over and in seconds was snoring.

Sarah found the lad's erection and stroked it languidly.  His cheeks 
flushed and his lips sucked harder.

"Be careful, son.  You'll hurt me."

His head rose.  "I'll never do that.  Was Grandpa right?"

She took a breath.  "This time."

Jack crept between her legs and slipped into her deliciously.

"Oh, Jack.  Oh, my son."  Her mouth opened a little.  The special 
relationship contributed as much to the flush rising in her cheeks as 
the thrust of her son's maturing prong.  Her arms appreciated the 
rippling muscles of his damp and powerful back.  Eyes searched each 
other in faces tight with pleasure.

"Mom ... I'm gonna come," he announced breathlessly.

Jeff continued to sleep, oblivious to the rocking mattress.

"Jack, yes, yes."

Whispering in the night, they enjoyed their moment.

Her hands descended to clasp his buttocks.  Caught in the throes of 
delirious orgasm, she joined his ecstasy noisily.  Jeff awoke, grinned 
at the spectacle and turned over again.

When it was over, Jack rolled to her side, got up on one elbow and
studied her face.  She opened her eyes.  They both laughed gently.  

"Grandpa sure was right!" the lad exclaimed.

"Or maybe it was just your sweetness."

He bent down to kiss her, touching tongues.  "Mom, I never knew anything
could feel that good."

"Son, nothing beats sharing yourself with someone you love."

"I believe it!"  He took a deep breath and dragged himself reluctantly 
out of the bed, pausing only to pull the top sheet up over her hips.  
"Good night, Mom."

"Good night, dear.  No one ever had a sweeter son."

"Or a sweeter Mom."

Having heard his feet in the hall and the creak of his bedsprings, she 
rose on an elbow, caught her father's shoulder and pushed it back and 
forth.

"Wh-what?" he asked, swinging around to face her.

"One question and you can go back to sleep."

He rolled to face her and emitted a sigh.  "It might cost you.  Did you
enjoy your son's cock?"

"You know I did, you dirty old man."

"Dirty, am I?"

She giggled.  "Almost dirty enough.  I want to know why you asked if Ted
was my only cheat on Tim."

"To make sure of something."

"Of what?  _You_ lived on the other side of town!"

"Huh?  I don't mean how you felt about me."

"That's what I want to find out.  What _did_ you mean?"

He grinned slyly.  "All right, since you've already spread for me 
tonight, I'll tell you.  I know Joseph has your red hair, but did you 
ever pay attention to what else he's got?"

"You mean his little dick?  What's wrong with it?"

"No, I don't mean that.  I mean his ears and the shape of his nostrils,
the rest of his face, really, now that he's old enough not to be all 
baby."

"His ears?  What about them?"

"They're round as silver dollars.  Who do you know with ears that 
round?"

"You?"

"Who else?"

"Well ...Ted.  Ted?"

"You know perfectly well, Sarah, if you ever let yourself see it, that 
your baby is the spitting image of Ted, aside from that red hair you got
from your mother."

Her eyes were wide.  "Ted!"

"How often did you fuck him during your marriage?"

"Umm.  Only when I'd visit Aunt Maude and she was gone to the store.  
And the week I went every day to keep house for Uncle Ted while she was
back east for her momma's funeral."

"That was it, wa'n't it: a little over two years ago?"

"Good god, Daddy!  Don't you _ever_ tell anybody!  Please, please!"

"Huh!  I don't spill family secrets.  You know that.  But I won't have 
to spill this one."

She lay back glumly, feeling no need to ask him why.


* * *


Bud was not in bed.  Sarah looked out the window and spied him seated on
the bench Tim had built under the huge oak at the head of the drive.  
The tree shaded him from the midafternoon sun.  He was reading, from the
size of the book apparently Tim's family bible, reminding her of his 
reference to Lot's daughters.

She glanced around.  Nothing needed doing with any urgency.  On impulse
she took ice cubes from the refrigerator, made up a tall glass of cold 
water and wrapped it in a dishtowel to protect her hand.

She had just cleaned and fed the baby but having refused sleep, he was 
tottering around his bedroom, holding on to the sides of his crib.  
Deftly with her free arm she caught him up on her hip and started for 
the front door.

"Down, Ma, down!" he cried.

"Wouldn't you like to go outside, honey pot?"

"Outside?"  He held still, face turned from her to the bright doorway.

She smiled.  "You darling, you understand more every day!"

"Stand more."

"That too."

The screen slammed behind her as her feet twinkled down the front steps.
At the sound Bud looked up from his book and smiled from a hundred yards
away.  She marched purposefully toward him, the breeze rustling her 
calf-length skirt and stirring her red hair, tied up behind in a bun.  
Drawing near, she saw that his gaze rested on her bouncing chest.  Men 
and their  craving for big tits!  Not that she would have them -- men or
tits -- any other way.  She felt heat on her cheeks but slowed not a whit
until she stood before him.

His face and voice were admiring.  "That's what I call a mother's 
strut."

"Strut?  You think I'm too ..."

He spoke up when she hesitated.  "Right.  Too pretty for words."

She smiled despite her inclination to be offended.  "Bud, you're awful."

He grinned.  "I try to be.  Sit and stay awhile."

"All right.  This is for you."  She passed him the glass with its 
tinkling icecubes.

"Ah, you sweetheart!"  He took a healthy gulp.  "How did you know I was
thirsty?"

"Down, Ma!" declared Joseph emphatically from her hip.

She lowered him to the grass, sat beside Bud on the bench, not quite 
touching, and nodded at the book in his hands.  "Church always made me 
thirsty."

"I didn't think you went often."

"I don't.  This neighborhood ain't much on religion.  The last church in
Faresville closed its doors last year.  Too many people giving up their
holdings."

"Some of your family too, I believe you said."

"Uncle Ted and Aunt Maude.  I was coming back from telling them goodbye
when I found you."

"So you told me.  Well, I hope your family can hang on."

"I plan to, especially if you help at harvest time."

"You know I will, Sarah.  When your doctor gets here next week, he'll 
give me a clean bill of health, I hope.  In case you hadn't noticed, I'm
feeling much better."

She studied his face critically.  "Your black eye has turned yellow."

"Along with the other bruises.  I was thinking of taking a walk around 
the farm, maybe tomorrow.  Would you walk with me, point out the 
sights?"

She sniffed.  "What sights!  But yeah, Bud, I'd love to take a walk."

He smiled.  "So far I haven't found a sight to compare with you, Sarah."

Her eyes lit but she shook her head.  "Being the only girl around here 
..."

He nodded.  "Not much of a compliment, is it?"  He finished the drink 
and set it on the ground.

Changing the subject, she asked, "Are you reading about God?"

He chuckled.  "Hard to open this book without it.  But, no, I'm 
comparing stories.  I've finished all your other books."

"Stories?  Like Lot's daughters?"

"Like that."  He showed her the edges.  "I've taken the liberty of 
dog-earing the stories I enjoy."  He opened the book at an early one.  
"Here's Lot and his thoughtful daughters."

"Thoughtful?"

"Oh, yes.  Apparently they thought their poor father was on his last 
legs, so they ...  Well, here's one of them talking in Genesis 19:32: 
'Come, let us make our father drink wine, and we will lie with him, that
we may preserve seed of our father.'"

Sarah mulled that over.  "Then it was their fault."

"So it says here.  But you have to remember this book is not kind to 
women.  According to it, Eve only tempted Adam but was given the worse
punishment."

"What if ... their mother had asked the father to come into their bath?"

He studied her narrowly.  "Then the daughters would be blameless.  But 
in this case their mother had already become a pillar of salt."

"A what?"

"She looked back at the burning city.  That's how God rewarded female 
curiosity."

"He ... He ..."

"Even so, I doubt Lot's daughters were wholly to blame.  After awhile 
any man hiding with seductive females would get ideas."

"Any man?"  Her gaze sharpened noticeably.

"Do you suggest I should speak for myself?"

She blushed and looked away.  The baby had found a stick, tasted it, 
made a face and now was using it to pierce a fallen leaf.  She looked 
farther around.  No one else was in sight.

"You still thirsty?"

"No."  Then his eyes lit and he smiled.  "Yes."

She rose to one knee on the bench, popped out the nearer breast and 
applied the leaking nipple to his lips.  He sighed, opening wide.  His 
mouth closed over the whole outer half of the breast and his cheeks 
collapsed with suction.

"Ooo!" she moaned.  "That's so good.  I hope I never dry up.  Maybe I 
won't, as long as I got you four sweet tit-suckers.  Joseph, come here 
and nurse."

She had hardly settled into position, Bud bending over one breast while
she held the baby to the other, before the rush of an approaching 
automobile overcame the soughing of the breeze.  Bud rose away from her,
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and peered down the drive.  
She pulled up her blouse on that side.  Little Joe continued to nurse.

A black Ford coupe with _Southern Illinois Bell_ on the door arrived 
before them.  Its engine died and a skinny fellow in brown coveralls got
down from the machine and came around it.

"Hello, Sarah," he said, staring at Bud.

"Hey there, Chalk."

"Who're you?" the newcomer asked baldly.

Sarah spoke up.  "Bud, my cousin.  Bud, this is Chalk."

"Bud who?" demanded the man.

Sarah snapped, "What you want, Chalk?"

"Uh, to find out what's wrong with your phone.  Somebody shot out an 
insulator at Hobson's Creek.  We fixed that but your phone still reads 
an open line."

"What's that mean?"

"Well, either the line's broke somewhere else or your phone's off the 
hook."

"I guess you want to check it."

"Yeah."

"It's in the kitchen.  Go ahead."

He spun on his heel and hurried into the house.

"I take it you know that guy," said Bud.

"Went to school with him."

After a moment they heard a telephone ringing distantly.

"Wonder who left it off the hook," said Sarah, wrinkling her lip.

Joseph raised his head, eyes bright, mouth leaking milk.  "Telephone, 
Ma!"

She bent, licked the milk off his chin and put him back to the breast, 
muttering, "Second word he learned."

Chalk emerged from the house and sauntered over the tufted grass.  
"Phone's working now."  He stood before them, arms akimbo, and stared 
from her bountiful breast to Bud's shiner.  "Your cousin's getting an 
eyeful, ain't he?"

Sarah retorted, "So are you, Chalk." 

He had the grace to blush and say no more.  He re-entered his vehicle, 
started the engine, turned the car around and sent it gathering speed up
the driveway, recently smoothed by Jeff's plow.

"I hope he doesn't know all your cousins," said Bud.

"How could he?"  But worry was evident on her face.

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