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Subject: {ASSM} Sarah and the Stranger {Claire Kellis} (MF MFm Fm oral anal incest) [7/14]
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Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:10:03 -0400
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Sarah and the Stranger
a Novel by Claire Kellis

Fall, 2007



Chapter 7: _Maggie's Impact_


Maggie, naked except for Sarah's gift of panties and dress, unadorned 
but for brushed hair, set the steaming main course in the center of the
kitchen table while her cousin rang the dinner bell hanging on the back
porch.  In the horizontal rays of the setting sun the men arrived to 
find the women waiting for them at opposite ends of the table, little 
Joseph already at Mamma's breast.

"Gosh, something smells good!" proclaimed Jack, taking his seat.

"Did you wash your hands?" demanded his mother.

"We all did in the barn," avowed Jeff.  "That looks a little like 
chicken and dumplings."

"Maggie cooked it," Sarah declared.

"Oh, no!" protested Maggie, eyes alight.  "I only made a few 
suggestions.  I do hope you like it.  It's got ham in it too."

Sarah added, "If we had some Swiss cheese, we'd've made you a real 
treat: chicken cord-- cord, uh --"

Bud helped her out.  "_Cordon bleu_."

Maggie whirled upon him with wide eyes.  "Where'd you learn that?"

He sighed and shook his head.  "I don't know."

"Uh ..."  Her eyes flashed at the other woman.  "Why don't you introduce
us, Sarah?"

To her own surprise, Sarah felt a touch of annoyance.  But she took a 
breath and said, "Maggie, this is Bud.  Bud, Maggie."

Leaning forward, the newcomer extended a hand with a smile.  "Hi, Bud.
I'm Maggie Thompson.  Jeff is my father's brother."

Bud touched her hand solemnly.  "Jeff named me _Bud_.  I'm pleased to 
meet you, Maggie."

"What's your real name?"

"I don't know.  Dr. Spencer says I have amnesia."

"'Amnesia?'  I've heard of that.  Mama Belle took in a girl once; some 
punk had bashed her head.  She didn't even know how to --  Good heavens,
you poor man!  How did you get here, then?"

He smiled a little and inclined his head toward his hostess.  "Sarah can
tell you better than I."

Grudgingly Sarah described finding him atop a boulder and bringing him 
home behind her on the horse.

"Two weeks ago?" Maggie mused.

"Almost," said Bud, chiming in again.  "She found me in a field, dirty,
bruised and battered, brought me home, cleaned me up, fed me, sheltered
me and furnished medical attention.  Like a dog, I shall never bite her
or her family."  He smiled.  "Mark Twain said this is the principal 
difference between a dog and a man."

Maggie blinked.  "I don't get it."

"Many people don't.  But I mean it: I'll never be able to repay this 
family, Sarah Martin in particular."

"I'm sure you're grateful."  Maggie added brightly, looking at Jeff, "So
am I."

Sarah said, "Mama Belle's girl with amnesia -- what happened to her?"

Maggie smiled.  "That was funny.  Her memory came back suddenly in the 
middle of a trick.  She let out a scream to wake the dead and did too, 
at least the drunks in the parlor."  Maggie giggled.  "We all crowded 
into her crib.  The john in spats was backed up against the wall and 
Miss Nerfle -- what Mama Belle called her, better than Greta Horzkoch, 
her real name -- was standing up in the bed, red as a beet, hands over 
her cooze, hollering 'Rape!'  Laughed, we thought we'd die!"

Jeff huffed.  "I can just imagine!"

"What's her cooze?" asked Jack.

Sarah would not be distracted.  "But she got her memory back.  How'd 
that work?"

Maggie shrugged.  "We guessed she came."

"'Came?'  Oh."  She glanced at Bud and her eyes twinkled.  "I think it 
takes more than that."

Maggie explained, "Nerfle's john was hot and hung like a mule.  Big 
Betty took him off to finish out his trick.  She was partial to big 
johns."

Jack sought to further his education.  "Did you call everybody 'John' in
Chicago?"

"Just the customers."

Sarah bored in.  "Did ... Greta get all her memory back?"

"She didn't remember Mama Belle's place, though she'd been doing tricks
in it for three months.  But when she calmed down, she knew who she was.
That was funny too, in a way.  Claimed she was married to a guy on the 
south side.  He was the one that thumped her and left her for dead.  
Mama Belle talked her out of going to the cops, told her about the dough
being held for her.  Mama Belle was good about that.  We only got a 
quarter of the bag but it was always right to the penny.  Greta moans, 
'But if I stay here, I'll have to fuck anybody who pays!'  Big Betty 
says, 'You mean a gal oughta fuck the johns who don't?'  I tell her, 
'Where else you gonna get that much fun?'  Greta decides to stay on.  
Pretty soon she'll only answer to 'Nerfle.'"

But Sarah didn't appreciate the humor.  Her eyes on Bud were tragic.  
"You won't remember us!"

Bud nodded.  "And that would be most unjust.  Do you have some 
stationery?  I should write down all you've done for me."

"Would you do that, Bud?  I'll get you paper and pencil right after 
supper."

For a while only dinner sounds were heard in the kitchen until Jeff said
musingly, "You left home, Maggie, twelve years ago when you was 16.  
Ain't that right?"

"Yes, sir.  But I wrote Mamma when I got a place."

"Yeah, good thing too.  She was beside herself, even if she wouldn't 
admit it.  I saw the note.  Said you was working in Chicago."

"I was too."

"Why'd you leave home?"

"They all blamed me."

"For your baby dying?"

"Yeah, even though I did everything they wanted.  What did you hear them
say about me?"

Jeff studied her a moment and shrugged.  "That you left the baby 
outdoors on a cold night and forgot it."

"Forgot it?  I did no such thing!  Cold night air was old lady Barker's
cure for the croup."

He nodded.  "She's the one that blamed you the loudest.  Well, she got 
her reward.  Her house burned down while she was in it" -- he snickered
-- "some said a foretaste of what she had coming."

"That's ... awful."  But Maggie grinned at him.

"How'd you get to Chicago?"

She shook her head.  "I thought it was luck.  A peddler came along and 
offered me a ride.  I was ready for him, I thought, but actually he was
ready for me."

"Fucked you good, did he, and threw you out of his truck?"

"Fucked me good and said he'd marry me soon as we got to Chicago."

"Uh, oh!"

"I was green as grass, of course.  He sold me to Mama Belle for a 
double-eagle."

"Sold you!" exclaimed Sarah.

"They called it a finder's fee, but yeah, that's what it amounted to.  I
was supposed to pay that back to her before I could leave her place."

"That was twelve years ago?"

"Seems like yesterday.  Her place was fancy and on the Loop.  Liked the
looks of it, and Mama Belle was a kindly woman, long as you minded her."
Maggie chuckled.  "Already loved what she made me do."

"What was that?" asked Jack when she took another mouthful and devoted 
her mouth to chewing it.

She studied him thoughtfully.  "You're what, Jack, about 14?"

"Yeah, since February."

Maggie grinned crookedly and looked at Sarah.  "Mama Belle would let 
them in at 14, if they had the money.  Ha!  She told a funny story about
a kid like that.  What do you say, Sarah?  He old enough?"

Sarah sniffed.  "He knows all about it."

"Well, he's a farm boy.  We knew it too, at his age.  Okay.  A man 
brings in his son, about 13 or 14, tells Mama Belle to make a man of 
him.  Mama Belle sends the kid to Gray Martha, she says, for some 
'mothering.'  It's late on a Saturday, Gray Martha is tired and her back
is sore, so she pulls a sleeperoo."

"A what?" asked Jeff, at least as intrigued as Jack.

"That's when the john comes quick but you don't tell the madam till 
you've had a little rest.  She gives this kid a quick french and takes 
herself a little nap."

"French?" said Jack.

"Sucks his cock."

"Oh!"  Jack's eyes widened.

"Mama Belle knew the family.  The kid grows up and gets married but 
doesn't ever knock up his wife.  After a few years the kid's mother 
takes the wife aside and wants to know why not.

"The wife says, 'Oh, I don't think I'll ever catch.  I just can't bring
myself to swallow that stuff.'"

Except for Jack they all laughed, even Sarah.  Jack frowned.  "They was
_that_ dumb?"

Maggie grinned.  "Must've been Polacks."

"Huh?"

Maggie blinked.  "They don't tell Polish jokes in Faresville?  You know
about the airplane crashing in a Polish cemetery, don't you?"

"What about it?"

"They recovered 400 bodies."

Again everyone laughed but Jack.  "I don't get it."

Jeff shook his head.  "Jack don't know airplanes can only carry ten or 
twenty people."

Jack blinked.  "I still don't get it."

Maggie said, "Well, how about this one?  A neighbor says to a Polack, 
'You oughta pull down your shades.  I saw you and your wife fucking last
night.'  The Polack sneers.  'Naw, you didn't.  I wasn't even home last
night.'"

Jack's eyes widened.  "Then it was somebody else -- oh!"

When he grinned, the others laughed.

Chuckling, Jack reminded her, "You liked what Mama Belle made you do.  
What was that?"

Maggie shook her head.  "Sarah, somebody ought to take this boy to 
town."

"He's had a blowjob," said the hostess tartly, wiping drooled milk from
the sleeping baby's chin.

"Then he can probably guess.  I fancy some more peas.  Would you pass 
them, Bud, please?"

When her dinner plate was reloaded, Maggie continued to eat and talk, 
displaying an appetite hearty as Jack's.

Jack suggested, "You had to fuck?"

"Like Nerfle said, every guy with the dough.  God, what a time it was!
The 'Roaring Twenties,' they called it.  I didn't know you could have so
much fun."

Bud regarded her curiously.  "What stands out -- if you want to tell 
us."

"Oh, I love to talk.  Everybody thinks a cathouse is a bad place, where
the women are treated like dirt.  All I know is Mama Belle's, and life 
there was just grand."

"'Grand!'" repeated Sarah with a sniff.

"Well, it was!  I worked there from '26 to '35, nine years.  Mama Belle
had been a real lady.  She took all us little waifs under her wing, 
taught us manners and what she called 'gentle speech,' even hired tutors
for us in the mornings.  At first I didn't sit in the parlor.  I was 
young.  With no boobs and a shaved cooze I looked younger.  She sent me
out to the hotels to take care of the johns who wanted to pretend I was
a kid."

Jack asked, "'Cooze' means pussy?"

"The high-yellows called it that, sort of took off."

"I wonder what one looks like shaved," muttered Jack.

"No little girls around here, eh?  Too bad.  I haven't shaved since ...
1930, I guess."

"Just your underarms."

"And my legs.  Oh, yeah, you were in the bathroom too."

"Sure.  First time I ever saw anybody fuck in the bathtub."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed it.  Tell you the truth, I got kind of woozy."

Jeff spoke up with a grin.  "Didn't slow you down a bit."

"As Mama Belle liked to say, fucking is natural as breathing."

"Golly!" cried Jack admiringly.

Bud asked, "Did you never run into men who were unreasonable or drunk?"

Maggie shrugged.  "Not often.  Mama Belle hired bouncers to keep the 
mean drunks out.  Most of our johns were sweethearts.  They came for a 
quick fuck first then to sit with us in the parlor, getting their juice
back up by feeling boobs and fingering cooze, while they talked politics
and the world situation.  It was interesting and exciting to hear them,
even with a thumb up your bum and three fingers in your cooze.  I should
say especially with that!"

"Golly!" Jack repeated.

She grinned at him.  "Lots different from life on the farm, eh, Jack?"

"Yeah.  A thumb up your bum?"

"When it wasn't a cock."  She giggled.  "A doctor taught me to like it 
there."

Sarah suggested, "Sure it wa'n't Uncle Ted?"

Maggie blinked and shook her head.  "Uncle Ted?"  Her eyes twinkled as 
she guessed Sarah's reason.  "No, dear, it was Dr. Assbender, as we 
pretend-kids called him.  He was hung long and thin.  It hurt in the 
cooze but slipped into the brown like a greased finger.  His so-called 
'nurse' -- maybe his wife -- would lick me while he humped up my bum.  
Let me tell you, that made fireworks!"

Sarah had cradled the sleeping baby in her arms.  Now she squirmed in 
her seat.  She breathed, "A woman _and_ a man?"

"He starts off giving me an enema, then checks me all over with his ...
forget what you call it ... the thing doctors use to listen to your 
chest."

"His stethoscope," suggested Bud.

"If you say so.  His nurse lies on the bed in a white uniform, I squat 
over her head.  She licks my nub while the doctor works in my guts.  He
pulls out ever once in a while and lets her suck him.  The first time I
raise my leg and see what she's doing, I go, 'Yuck!'  So the next time 
he slips around on the bed and makes me suck it."  She grinned at Jack.
"Proves his enema did a good job.  Finally he finishes up by coming in 
her mouth."

"Oh, golly!" cried Jack, forgetting to eat, his hand under the table.

"One time we're going at it, only the nurse is naked too, when the door
flies open and two men come rushing in, hollering, 'You're under arrest,
all of you!'

"Dr. Assbender jumps off the bed and throws the sheet over both women.
'What's the charge?'

"One of them says, 'Public immorality and statutory rape.'  I don't know
what that means, though I find out later.

"The doctor snatches the sheet back off us and says, 'Don't be hasty 
boys.  Just look at these sweet pussies: a ripe one and a green one with
a ripe clit.  Why don't you each take a crack.  A crack?  Ha, ha!'

"The nurse and I are still lying head to tail.  They drop their britches
and stick into our coozes.  Women like to lick a big nub, the way queers
like big cocks.  I'm wet enough from the nurse's licking and to tell the
truth, I been licking her too.

"The doctor is hovering near.  He says, 'Why don't you guys compare cunt
and mouth?'

"And of course they do, back and forth.  What we're doing is called a 
'Double-H' in the trade.  They both dump their loads pretty quick.  I 
get half of one in my mouth.

"The new guys say, 'We'll give you a pass this time,' and take a powder.
In a jiffy Dr. Assbender is bending my ass again and his nurse reaches 
over me and shoves my face back in her cooze.  

"I tell Mama Belle about it soon as I get back.  When she finds out I'm
not hurt, in fact I like it, she just nods and says, 'That'll triple his
bill.'

Maggie grinned around at the fascinated expressions.  "The fake cops 
tell their friends and before long Big Betty and 'the kid with the big 
clit' are playing double-Hs all over town."

"You really like doing that," asked Jack, "a cock up your bum?"

"Yeah, if the girls take enemas.  It's so ... I don't know ... so _evil_
-- I think _perverted_ is the word -- that just thinking of it makes me
wet."

Jeff pushed back from the table.  "I know where Sarah keeps the 
Vaseline."

Sarah's eyes were on Bud, who kept his seat when the others rose and 
crowded into the hall.

Jeff said, "Maggie, I hope you meant what you said about liking it up 
the ass."

The woman's reply drifted back into the kitchen.  "I like it wherever 
you put it, so long as it's in _me_."

"This I gotta see!" announced Jack, hurrying after them.

"You can help," Maggie called back.

Joseph was asleep on his mother's shoulder.  Sarah glared at Bud and 
asked tartly, "Why ain't you chasing after her ass too?"

He chuckled with a hint of embarrassment.  "Because it would feel 
disloyal.  I hope you don't mind."

"Mind?"  She sighed.  "Bud, you're the sweetest man I know."

He said softly, "You're at least twice the woman she is."

"In size, you mean."

"That too, and I appreciate the Earth mother type.  But I meant in 
character and devotion.  I've known lots of women like her: hedonists, 
fun for a night or two."

"I don't know that word."

"Out for their own pleasure.  You give pleasure, Sarah, in everything 
you do."  He nodded at the sleeping baby.  "More than that, you give 
life."

Her buttocks wriggled in gratification.  "Oh, Bud, you say the nicest 
things!"  She stood up.  "I've got to put little Joe down."  After a 
deep breath she added, "And somebody's got to clean up the kitchen."

"Just tell me how I can help."  He followed her to the baby's room and 
stood silently watching her with the child.  They could hear the 
threesome in the room next door, which had been Sarah's bedroom two days
ago.

They looked incredibly at each other when Jeff's voice floated through 
the open doors, asking in evident astonishment, "How do you keep from 
shitting yourself?"

"How do I what?" asked Maggie with a giggle that was more like a gurgle.

"That went up your ass easier than your twat."

"To answer your question, sir," she said with feigned indignation, "your
very impolite question, Mama Belle taught us how to open up.  But I can
still close tight.  How's that?"

Jeff barked instantly, "God damn, that's tight!"

Her giggle was unconstrained.  "Now you know how I hold my shit."

"What you talking about?" demanded Jack's voice.

Maggie said, "Want to find out?"

The lad responded after a pause, "If you'll get off him."

"She don't have to get off," said Jeff.  "Maggie, lean farther back and
set your feet on my knees."

A moment later Jack said in awe, "Gosh, Grandpa, your cock's going right
up her ass!"

"She ain't spreading to show off, boy," said Jeff impatiently.  "Climb 
on."

"You mean ..."

"Just get on top and put it in."

"While you're still up her ass?"

"At last he gets the idea!"

"B-but, Maggie, wouldn't that hurt you?"

"Hurt?"  The soprano giggle sounded again.  "Anything but!"

A pregnant silence reigned.  In the adjacent room Sarah's hand went to 
her mouth.  She stared at Bud and whispered, "Good heavens!"

Maggie's voice sounded.  "That's it.  Ooo, Jacky, you have a nice one 
already!  Oh, I do love this full feeling!"

Jeff said, "Let me grab your ass, boy, and show you the rhythm.  It's 
best if you zig while I zag."

The bed began to creak.  Jack asked, "Did Mama Belle have a name for 
this?"

Maggie's voice was teasing.  "You remember what it's called, Uncle 
Jeff?"

"Some kind of sandwich."

"Almost."

He crowed, "I got it: a _Greek_ sandwich."

"It's not all that common," said Maggie a little breathlessly.  "You'll
have to tell me where you did it before, but right now ...  Oh, god, you
guys are the greatest!"

Eyes distant, Sarah whispered, "I know one place he did it: in the barn
with me and Uncle Ted."

"Your father and your uncle," said Bud softly in a peculiar tone.

She glanced up at him.  "The only time I ever ...  Dad was the one in my
behind.  I guess he got both my cherries."

"You were pretty young, weren't you?"

"Fourteen."  She grimaced.  "But I think I loved it."

"You think?"

"I passed out.  Scared Dad and Uncle Ted.  I came to with Dad slapping 
my face.  He made me drink some of their applejack."

His arm crept around her.  "You poor kid."

She chuckled grimly.  "Dad and Uncle Ted both came off before they 
noticed I was limp.  When I asked Dad to do it again, he acted ashamed.
But listen to him in there!"

Three pitches of grunts drifted down the hall: high, medium and low, in
a curious rhythm with a distinct high in harmony at each sounding of the
others.

"He was your father," Bud noted.  "He's only her uncle."

"I'm sure that wa'n't the problem," Sarah asserted with a grin.  "He was
afraid they'd hurt me somehow."

"Why did you pass out?"

"I've thought about it a lot.  It was just ... too much.  Too much 
feeling; I think too much for a fourteen-year-old to hold."

"You never again had two men at once."

"Not together.  I never again had one in my behind, either.  But, Bud 
..."

When she hesitated, he prompted, "What?"

She took a deep breath.  "Will you help me clean up the kitchen?"

"Sure."  He grinned.  "You never asked that before."

"I don't want you up her ass too."

He laughed.  "That's what I thought."

"I've got some more Vaseline after we do the kitchen."


* * *


Bud dried the dishes as Sarah washed them.  While they worked the voices
up the hall crescendoed then died away along with the rhythmic creaks.

"That didn't last long!" Sarah commented.

Bud said, "A Greek sandwich can be very stimulating."

She asked curiously, "You remember doing it in a girl's bottom?"

He paused in thought.  "Yes.  The Greeks are known for that almost as 
much as the French for sucking."

"You been to Greece?"

"I know I've spent a lot of time in the Mediterranean.  From what I can
put together, I must have been on a sailing yacht."

Handing him a plate, she paused to stare into his face.  "I can't 
imagine that."

He held up a moist hand.  "It takes line-handling calluses a while to 
fade out."

"Line handling?"

"Handling ropes to hoist and trim sails."

"But ... I heard they don't use sails anymore."

"Only on some rich men's yachts."

"Were you rich, Bud?"

He chuckled.  "Wouldn't that be nice!  The fact is, I don't remember.  
But these calluses suggest I was crew, not captain."

She leaned forward, kissed and licked his palm.  "I love them calluses 
squeezing my boobs."

He put down his drying rag, stepped behind her, slipped crossed arms 
into her blouse and gave her what she claimed to love.  The nipples 
popped up and milk streaked his hands.

She sighed deeply.  "Now I'll wet my dress."

He rubbed her belly.  "It's already wet here."

"That's just the apron.  Let's finish up.  Then we can go to your 
bedroom."


* * *


Leading him up the hall, she paused at her bedroom door and sniffed.  
"That don't look like no sandwich."

All three people were naked, clothing tossed to the floor.  Jeff lay 
sprawled along the bedside, head propped up on a pillow.  Maggie lay 
facedown, body across the bed perpendicular to his, noisily sucking his
cock.  Jack lay atop her body, holding his shoulders off hers on 
extended arms, hips pumping.  Her legs were together, extended across 
the bed between his.

Jeff grinned contentedly.  "Maggie's trying to get it up again.  She's a
game kid!"

Jack leered over his shoulder and declared proudly, "Now _I'm_ fucking 
her up the ass, Mamma!"

In two quick strides Sarah reached the bedside and slapped the boyish 
buttocks, leaving the red imprint of her hand.  "Damn it, Jack, watch 
your language!"

"Sorry, Mamma," he said contritely, hips continuing to plunge.

Sarah stooped near the junction.  After a moment's study she said 
admiringly, "You really are, ain't you!"

Jeff said with equal admiration, "At that age he can fuck all night."

Maggie raised her head long enough to note, "I hope so."

"You really like it in your bottom?" Sarah inquired.

"Uh-_huh_!" the prone woman acknowledged nasally.

Sarah backed off and turned to look at Bud, still in the door.  She 
licked her lips, took up the Vaseline jar from the nightstand and pushed
forward.  "Let's go."

In Bud's bedroom she stripped off her clothes and hung them over the 
chair, waiting impatiently while he followed her example.

But when he reached for the jar of lubricant, she held it away and said,
"Take a drink first.  They're hurting."

He fell backward to a seat on the bed and drew her into his lap, 
compressing his erection.  Bending his head, he sucked a dripping nipple
into his mouth.  But she pulled it out immediately.

"Not this way, Bud.  Let's do it how I always wanted to be nursed."  She
stood on one foot beside him, swung the other over his head, sat in his
lap again, now with a leg over each of his hips, and slipped the 
engorged penis into wet vagina with a guiding hand.  She grinned.  
"Don't need Vaseline in this spot.  _Now_ suck!"

She arched her back enough to put the nipple between his lips.  He 
slurped it in but soon began a curious nasal snuffling.

She realized he was giggling.   "What's so damn funny?"

He freed his mouth only long enough to answer, "Your preferred way to be
nursed, is it?  I can just imagine little Joe doing this."

She giggled but said in the baby's defense, "Don't think he can't get it
up."

That redoubled the snuffling.  The image was too ridiculous for her to 
ignore as she thought a mother should, and her giggle became a throaty 
laugh.  But both expressions of humor ceased when she began to slide her
hips forward and back.  Bending his head forward, he leaned back to 
allow her greater range.

"Oh, god, Bud, I knew it, I knew it!"

He didn't have to ask her what.  Her voice had become a rhythmic groan 
by the time he emptied a breast and turned to the other.  The first draw
upon it produced a seeming mouthful -- and a scream from her.  He cut 
his eyes up in concern but saw only the point of her chin.  Her head was
thrown back, fingers biting into his shoulders, torso shuddering, and he
knew she was only coming.

The scream subsided to a wavering moan.  Footsteps in the hall attracted
his attention to the door.  Jack stood there with an adult-sized 
erection and a look of fear turning to anger.  "Goddamn you, what're you
doing to her?"

Releasing the breast, Bud straightened his back and returned the lad's 
glare.

The woman also whirled.  "Just what I want done," she declared firmly if
breathlessly.  "Get out of here, Jack."

The boy disappeared.  Sarah clung to Bud, her cheek against his.  Up the
hall floated the sound of Jeff's inquiry and Jack's louder, affronted 
response: "He was sucking and fucking her at the same time."

They heard nothing further.  Bud said dryly, "An accurate, if succinct,
report."

She said, "Well, it should've been suck-sing.  I was never done so 
good."

He smiled but did not explain.

She withdrew enough to study his face fondly.  "Did you ever do that to
a gal while you was a sailor, Bud?"

"No, my dear, not both at once.  This was a delightful first."

She giggled with pleasure.  "But you didn't finish the job."

"Because somebody came off with a bang."

"Yeah: me!  Oh, god, Bud, that was so sweet!  But here, this one's still
tender."

He resume suckling.  After a moment she ran her fingers through his 
thick head of hair and gently restarted the slide of her hips.  "If you
don't come this time either, you can do my bottom."

Only the boy's interruption had restrained him before.  He clutched her
hips and pressed her deeply into his groin while accelerating her slide.
They maintained a fast pace and finally climaxed together as he released
the now empty breast.  This time she emitted soft nasal moans.

Again her cheek rested against his.  "That was the best!  Oh, Bud, I do
love a man who does it so good."

"And I love a woman who's willing to tell me that."

"Is that all you love?"

He laughed.  "You think it's customary?  I remember a lot of things but
not a woman who speaks much truth about sex."

"I knew already that talking about it tickles you."  She wiggled her 
hips.  "You're still hard enough."

"It's still in you."

She withdrew from him, crawled around him and stretched full length on 
her belly.  Looking meaningfully over her shoulder, she said, "It's even
wet enough."

"Sarah, you don't need to do this, not for me.  Believe me, I'm happy."

She smiled.  "So'm I.  But I want to see ... see if it's still like what
I remember."

He looked around.  "Where'd you put the Vaseline?"

"That stuff's hard to get off.  Try it without."

"Get on your hands and knees so I won't have to lie on you."

He rose and knelt behind her between her legs.  She grunted at the 
presentation.  He leaned forward, dribbled saliva on their point of 
contact and shoved forward gently.  The sphincter was noticeable but no
hindrance to his penetration.

"Ahh," she murmured, a drawn-out sigh.  "Whores ain't the only ones who
can open up."

"I'd guess relaxing is the secret."

"You ever let one up you?"

"No."  He sank fully within her.  "Well, does it?"

"What?"

"Feel as you remember it?"

"No, it don't."

"Does it hurt?"

"No.  I was just wondering if my hole is tighter now.  But I know the 
answer: your cock is thicker than Dad's, thicker even than Tim's was."

"Are you saying it feels tight?"

"Yeah.  And kind of funny.  But I can see how you might get to like it."
She giggled.  "Too bad you don't have two cocks.  I need one in front 
too."

"You don't have a dildo, do you?"

"What's that?"

"A false cock."

She sniffed.  "Never needed one."

"Apparently not."

"Bud ..."

He was moving gently within her, taking long strokes.  "I'm listening."

"Dad was right, wa'n't he, about outsiders not doing it in their own 
families?"

"Yes, Sarah.  In fact it's against the law of the land."

"So they're breaking the law in yonder."

"Well ...  Yes."

"But we're not, are we?"

He chuckled a little.  "I can't imagine an odder conversation while 
stretching a woman's rectum.  But yes, we are: two at least."

"Two?"

"I believe in most states sex between unmarried people is illegal, and 
so is sodomy, which is what they call this kind of it."  He grinned.  
"So maybe this conversation isn't so odd, at that."

She said something too softly for him to understand.  "What was that?"

"I said from the size of your cock you seem to enjoy breaking the law."

"Some laws are asinine."

"So maybe that _was_ your suit."

"Suit?"

"Did you forget what you was wearing when I found you?"

"Oh.  Yes, I did."  His voice fell as his hips stilled.  "I don't 
remember ever being in prison."

"Bud, I'm sorry.  I don't know what made me say that."

He backed away from her, sat on the bedside and said heavily, "You 
thought, more evidence I don't respect the law.  Well, maybe it is.  A 
lot of laws I don't."

She rolled over onto her back, head near his hip, looking up at him.  
"Do they put you in jail for ... what was it, sod-mee?"

"Sodomy.  Yes, at least between men and boys.  I've heard for as much as
40 years."  He chuckled grimly.  "Though that's throwing them in the 
briar patch."

She thought it over.  "I know about Uncle Remus.  Because they're with 
more of the same?"

"Exactly.  I'm told the prisons are full of sodomites."

"How about between boys and girls?"

He shook his head.  "I never heard of anyone being charged with that."
He smiled down at her.  "A girl has a spot so much sweeter."

"But boys and girls do it.  You heard what Maggie said."

"I know they do.  Especially in Greece.  She also said the perversion, 
the unnaturalness, makes it fun.  Some people never quit being 
teenagers."

"Wa'n't it good up my ass?"

He sighed.  "Every part of you is good, sweet Sarah."

Her eyes fell.  "Except sometimes what comes out my mouth."  Her hand 
stroked his hard hip fondly.  "My bed's full.  Can I sleep with you?"

His answer was to lift her upon his chest, kiss her tender lips and 
reach past her to pull up the bedcover.

When he awoke with the yellow dawn-light streaming in his window, she 
was gone.  In her place beside him lay a pad of pull-off paper sheets 
and a knife-sharpened pencil.  He had no trouble finding the words to 
describe his adventures on the Martin farm.  For its owner they were 
particularly easy.

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