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Subject: {ASSM} Sarah and the Stranger {Claire Kellis} (MF MFm Fm oral anal incest) [8/14]
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Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:10:04 -0400
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Sarah and the Stranger
a Novel by Claire Kellis

Fall, 2007



Chapter 8: _Maggie Helps Out_


Over a breakfast of eggs, sausage and hash-brown potatoes, while she 
nursed her baby, Sarah said, "Your bruises are just about gone.  How do
you feel, Bud?"

As usual everyone was present for this meal.  All looked at the stranger
with interest.

He said, "Fine," and smiled.  "Even my hunger is fast getting fixed."

She returned his smile.

Jeff said, "Well, don't overstuff.  I thought to try you running the 
seeder on the east field this morning.  It's a sitting job but you gotta
stay alert.  Jack here has proved how hard it ain't to roll it over."

"Grandpa!" cried the lad, blushing down into his plate.

Bud grinned at the old man.  "Breaking me in easy, are you?"

"Thought _I_ was gonna run the seeder!" protested Jack.

"No, you're gonna go into town and fetch a couple more sacks of seed."

"Only a couple?  I can do that on horseback.  But what'll I use for 
money?"

"I arranged it with Johnson yesterday on the phone."  Jeff looked at 
Sarah.  "He's putting it on the tab."

She nodded but her attention was on Bud.  "It's been almost three weeks.
I think we oughta tell Doc Spencer you're out of the woods."

"Okay.  I am."

"Except for your memory."

"Yeah."  He sighed.  "That reminds me: I have some notes waiting for you
on my nightstand."

"Thank you, Bud.  I'll call the doc when we finish with breakfast."


* * *


When the men left the house, Sarah put the sleeping baby in his crib and
returned to help Maggie clean the kitchen.

"Don't forget the doctor," Maggie reminded.

"Office don't open till eight o'clock."

Sarah began drying the dishes in the rack.  After stacking a few she 
mused, "Guess you learned how to do everything in Chicago."

"You mean in Mama Belle's bawdyhouse.  But what do you mean by 
'everything?'"

"From your face I see you found what little makeup I got left."

Maggie paused, eyes widening.  "Oh, Sarah, I never thought to ask you 
first!"

"I don't begrudge it to you.  What I meant was you know how to use it 
lots better than me.  And fancy talk.  Mama Belle taught you that, you 
said."

"She had visiting tutors for us -- paid off in trade."

Sarah grinned.  "You mean cocks in your mouth as well as words?"

"Sometimes.  One we called Old Jeffrey liked me sitting on his cock 
while I read a book out loud and he corrected my pronunciation."

Sarah's grin became a giggle.  "That's getting it in the ears and the 
tail both."

"Yeah."  Maggie chuckled reminiscently.  "We did that a lot of mornings.
I never had so much fun in my life."

"And taking men in your bottom.  You said you really like it, that a doc
learned you."

"Dr. Assbender, as he told us to call him."

"Was he your first sodomite?"

Maggie blinked with half a grin.  "Where'd you hear that word?"

"Bud and I was talking last night."

Maggie nodded.  "That Bud's an educated man.  I know the signs.  Where'd
he come from anyway?"

"You mean to end up on a hick farm in the backwoods?"

"No, I don't mean it like that."

Sarah sighed.  "He can't tell us, Maggie.  He really lost his memory.  
The first thing he remembers is waking up while I was giving him a 
bath."

"Both of you loved that, I'll bet!"  The brunette settled another wet 
plate on the rack and paused with a look of interest.  "What was he 
wearing when you found him?"

"Fancy Italian shoes.  He was shaved close with short, clean 
fingernails."

"He'd had a manicure?"

"Yeah, that's what you call it.  But somebody beat him up bad."

Maggie thought it over while she scrubbed silverware.  "He's a well 
set-up man.  You think maybe he was robbed?"

With a look of surprise Sarah paused also.  "Well, it _could_ be!"

"Too bad you don't get a newspaper."

"We get the news on the radio."

"Isn't much news on the radio.  Old Jeffrey taught me how complete the 
newspaper is by comparison -- even without a cock in the cooze."

"Ain't no newspaper in Faresville."

"I heard they publish a daily at Taylorville."

"Huh!  You like coffee sweetened with molasses?"

"Actually I prefer it black.  Why?"

"You think I'd buy newspapers when I can't even afford sugar?"

Maggie blinked and waved her wet hand at the well-equipped kitchen.  
"You can't afford _sugar_?"

"Last I heard, two dollars was all the money we had to our name.  Jack 
earned it mowing for a neighbor and spent it on a lovely scarf for me."
Sarah sighed.  "Jeff made him take it back; we needed the money to fix a
pump."

"Then how the devil do you eat so well?"

"If you'd been here last fall you'd know.  Curing and preserving -- god,
we worked till we dropped.  We had a record harvest and couldn't sell 
but a smidgen.  Corn was so cheap it wa'n't worth the trouble to move it
to the railhead."  She sighed again.  "Just so you know, Maggie: if we 
can't sell the harvest this year, we'll lose the farm."

The newcomer's eyes were huge.  "_Lose_ it?  How?"

"The bank'll foreclose.  Your friend Percy."

Maggie's eyes brightened with interest.  "Percy will own it?"

"Yeah, control it at least."

The brunette smiled confidently.  "I'll talk to him."

Sarah laughed.  "I wish it was that easy.  Go ahead and let the water 
out of the sink.  Cleanup sure is lots faster with two."  Briefly she 
hugged the slender woman.  "I'm so glad you came, Maggie!"

"I'm so glad you took me in!"

"Well, of course.  You're family."  

Sarah pulled Maggie against her and kissed her lips. "My sweet, I'm 
going to care for you as if you was my sister.  You was the only girl I
was ever close to and I've missed you.  You can have more of my old 
clothes.  I was smaller then.  They'll fit you."

Maggie returned the kiss.  "What would I ever do without you, honey?  
Mama Belle closed her place in '35.  The last three years have been ...
worrisome."

"How'd you live?  Daddy said --  Did you have to stand on street 
corners?"

Maggie chuckled grimly.  "It almost got to that.  I still look real 
young, compared to some, and I'd learned to cook.  That let me keep 
house for one man after another.  I didn't stay in Chicago.  The last 
one who kept me ran a little hotel in Decatur, let me stay with him for
a year before a fancier floozy came along.  That's the trouble with 
depending on johns: always a fancier floozy.  It's better depending on a
women like Mama Belle."

"How about depending on your family?  We're family, Maggie. We had great
times as children.  You'll feel better soon.  The radio says times are 
getting better.  You'll be going to dances with us when they start up 
again.  You wait and see.  I'm gonna make sure you're happy as a clam.
I'll teach you how to sew and you can make your own clothes."

"Sarah, you'd do that for me?  I don't know what I could do without your
help.  My childhood home is still there, but it's just awful: taken over
by animals and stinks.  Mamma and Daddy moved to Massachusetts to be 
with Uncle John.  If I had the money, I'd go too."

A soft anguished cry accompanied the tears that streaked her cheeks.  
Sarah's heart opened to her.  "Now, now, dear Maggie.  You don't know 
how I've yearned for a woman to talk to.  I live in a house with men."

Maggie lowered her head.  "Don't forget, honey, I'm nothing but a 
whore."

Sarah kissed the tear-wet face.  "Maggie Thompson, you are not a whore!
Poor choices gave you a hard time, but we love you.  You know Daddy and
Jack love you.  I do too.  You're like the only sister I ever had."

"Sarah, what would I do without you?  I have no other place to go."

"Then it's settled, dear one.  Now I've got me a loving sister."

They giggled as only two women can.  Sarah removed her apron and turned
toward the hall, grinning over her shoulder.  "Help me some in my 
bedroom, Sister."

Maggie followed her up the hall and into the room.  She asked, "Want me
to make the bed?"

"After a while."  Quickly Sarah stripped to skin, sat on the bedside and
looked expectantly at the younger woman.  "Little Joe's eating more 
table food now.  He's not thirsty enough."

Throwing off the robe, Maggie sat beside her and bent to the nearer 
nipple.  "You have such impressive boobs, honey.  I can see why the men
love to help you."

"The men ain't here.  Let me crawl to the headboard.  You can turn 
around and lay on my arm."

The two women settled comfortably, Sarah back against the headboard, 
Maggie's dark hair in the crook of the elder's arm.  Maggie suckled the
breast strongly, murmuring nasal approval.  The elder's red head fell 
back and she sighed with pleasure.

Outside a wren trilled its surprisingly loud melody in the maple tree 
that shaded the window.  With a chuffing sound the tractor started up 
near the barn and continued to run, drowning out the clucking of 
chickens in the yard.  Amidst the clanking of machinery it soon pulled 
away toward the east field.  While Maggie drained the breast, Sarah 
thought of Bud, riding out on the seeder behind the tractor.  She had 
feared, because of the doctor's remarks about his educated diction, that
he would not adapt well to farm work, but after the incident with the 
tractor engine she no longer worried.  Bud was already proving a great 
asset to the Martins.

A grown woman was nursing her -- Maggie, her childhood playmate!  With a
smile she extended a hand to stroke Maggie's belly, already in a few 
days rounder than on arrival.  Her fingers riffled the dark pubic hair 
and the heel of her palm compressed the folds of skin atop the pubic 
bulge.

Maggie released the nipple.  "I wondered what was taking you so long."

"You thought of it too, else you wouldn't've shed your robe."

Maggie sniffed.  "When the johns get too thick, a girl likes the 
softness of other girls.  That was one of the nice things about mornings
at Mama Belle's."

Sarah's palm continued to stroke.  "What else did you do in the 
mornings?"

"Only tutors in the morning and not every morning.  We girls washed our
clothes and each other, fixed each other's hair, took douches and 
enemas, laid in the beds and licked each other's clit.  Most of the time
that was the only way to come off."

"Wa'n't the men any help?"

"I don't know about you, but it takes me a while to get up there, 
especially when I'm getting a lot.  How about this other boob -- 
anything in it?"

"Joe didn't even touch that one."

"Your milk is sweet, Sarah."  Maggie stretched to the far breast and 
mouthed the nipple.

Sarah continued to ply Maggie's genitals.  When two fingers found their
way inside the vagina, Maggie's hips quivered.

After awhile Sarah chuckled.  "You remember the first time we fooled 
around?"

Maggie released the breast and relaxed her cheek against it.  "I'll 
never forget it.  I was twelve."

Sarah nodded.  "I was 14."

"I was surprised when you put your face in my cooze.  I've always 
wondered: who taught it to _you_?"

"Sure you can guess."

"Uncle Ted."

Sarah laughed lightly.  "Good guess!  He did it to me lots and I did it
to him, but he wa'n't first."

"Then who taught you?"

"My daddy, who else?"

"Uncle Jeff?  Oh, yeah, he was your first man.  Or so you said."

"Well, he was, and Mamma helped him.  Wa'n't your daddy the first?"

"No, dear."  Maggie shook her head and sighed.  "My folks weren't nearly
so free and easy as yours."

"Well, I put a corncob and a lot of fingers in you that first day.  You
was no cherry at twelve."

"Actually I was.  Uncle Ted busted me about two weeks before you and I 
got together in Dad's hayloft."

"Uncle Ted!"

"Yeah.  I'd been bringing cool drinks to him in the field and sucking 
him off.  He liked that."

Sarah said dryly, "Yeah, I know."

"Sometimes he licked me good before I sucked.  One day when I was 
coming, he slipped up on me and poked it in."

"Hurt?"

"Stung a little."

"Did you bleed?"

"I don't know.  Didn't look.  He didn't do that again for a few days, 
but when he did, I passed out, it was so good."

"You almost passed out when Daddy fucked you in the bathtub.  We thought
it was 'cause you was weak."

"Uncle Jeff turns out to be one of the johns who really gets me going."

"Why is that?"

Maggie shrugged.  "The way they feel.  The way they smell.  The way they
treat me.  Not many of them, but they're my real sweethearts.  Uncle Ted
was the first one.  I guess you heard it was his baby that died of the 
croup."

"Daddy told me."  Sarah almost added Jeff's suspicions about little 
Joseph, but something stilled her tongue.

Maggie giggled.  "Do you remember how we got started in the hayloft?"

"We didn't start there."

"I don't count that fight.  I'm laughing too hard till you shove me down
and stand over me.  Then I look up under your dress and see your crinkly
cooze."

Sarah blinked.  "'Crinkly?'"

"Crinkly red hair.  I think you had more then than now."

The older woman smiled.  "I remember.  Surprised you, did it?"

"What surprises me is seeing it.  I say, 'Don't you wear panties?'  You
say, 'No,' and I ask why."  Maggie chuckled.  "You say, "'Cause somebody
might want in them.'  And that fires me up.  I say, 'Like me.'  And that
surprises _you_."

Sarah said, "Yeah.  I never went with a girl before."

"Thought you said your mother helped your father with you."

"She did, but we never did each other like that.  Mamma was sparing 
herself, I think.  The way she was raised turned her against fucking.  
You went up the hayloft ladder first and surprised me again: you didn't
have panties on either."

"I was about that the same as you: wishing for Uncle Ted to come back."

"You didn't have much hair.  I wondered how it would taste."

"Well, you sure found out!  You pushed me down in the hay and started 
licking.  Scared me at first."

Sarah laughed.  "I raped you."

"You did in a way.  You didn't have to be so rough."

"That was fun too."

"I wouldn't know."  Maggie laughed.  "You always fell down before I 
could shove you."

"You never started it at Mama Belle's?"

"Not that way.  With a shy john you take hold of his pecker, but you 
don't push anybody down."

"You want me to say I'm sorry?  Well, I ain't.  You loved it as much as
I did."

"That's true," said Maggie.  She took a deep breath.  "I've not tasted 
cooze in a long time and I like the flavor as much as jizz."  She rolled
out of Sarah's arms and knelt between her legs, head dropping low.

"Ooo!" cried Sarah, twitching to the rising pleasure.  She began to 
moan.  "Oh, god, Maggie, you really know how!"  Her hips tossed wildly,
but thighs clamping the younger woman's head held it in place.  Shortly
Sarah screamed and pushed the dark head away from her groin.

Maggie licked her lips with a grin.  "That was quick!"

Sarah lay back for a moment, arm over her eyes, lightly panting.  She 
gasped.  "'Cause it was so perfect.  I should've guessed a girl could do
it best."

"One with lots of experience," Maggie agreed dryly.

Sarah raised.  "Let's see if that's so important.  I ain't done it since
the last time with you.  Turn over."

With Maggie on her back, Sarah spun the body sideways of the bed and 
rolled over it, head to groin.  Maggie opened her legs and Sarah's nose
dipped between them.  As the elder began to lick from labial lips to 
pubic pad, she felt hands pulling her buttocks and let them down until 
Maggie's mouth again surrounded her clitoris.  Nasal moans soon arose 
from both ends of the arrangement.  Arms tightened and hips rolled back
and forth.  Occasionally the soprano cries crescendoed at one end, at 
which moment the causing tongue fell still, only to resume when the 
adjacent hips ceased to shudder.

Jack's voice floated from the kitchen.  "Hey, where'd everybody go?"

Lost in her own world, aware only of her thrilling partner, each woman 
ignored it.

Boots thumped in the hall.  "That was a quick ride," he called ahead, 
unable to believe the house empty when he passed the room with the 
sleeping baby.  "Johnson already had the seed --  Hey!  Wh-what's going
on?"

He had rounded the doorway and stood still, mouth handing open.  Soft 
wet sounds arose from the two naked females on the bed.  He watched for
a moment, hand diving into his jeans.  Maggie's moans rose to screeches
in a tight throat.  Her whole body trembled but fell still as Sarah 
raised her head.

"I need you," she said to her son despite the liquid dripping from her 
chin.  "Get your clothes off."

Jake wasted no time.  He was naked in five seconds.

"Behind me," directed his mother, slapping her buttocks.  "Put him in, 
Maggie."

But Maggie caught the swiftly erected manhood and directed it first into
her own mouth.  After two quick slurps she raised it to the vagina just
above her face and said, "Push, Jack."

The labia parted and admitted him readily.  "Gosh, Mom, you're wet!"  He
began to thrust.

"Did you just stop for a pee?" Maggie asked him, voice muffled under the
swaying body parts.

"Yeah," he admitted.  "Sorry."

She huffed.  "Don't be.  I love it."  Tilting her head back, rocking to
match the motion, she applied tongue to the clitoris above her while the
lad's lively testicles bounced on her nose.

Sarah's head dropped into Maggie's groin and both women began to utter 
soprano shrieks.  The combination of bodies apparently overcame Jack.  
"Oh, god, I'm coming!" he declared, thrusting deeply.

Maggie clutched his member, forced it out of his mother and into her own
mouth just as the lad began to spurt.  She swallowed noisily but soon 
ejected the organ to make room for a climactic scream.  Jack rolled onto
his back and clasped himself, pumping out the last dribbles.  The women
separated, Sarah flopping on her side.  Both lay panting and twitching,
hands crossed in their own pubes.

As senses returned, Maggie patted Jack's rump.  "I'm sorry, hon'."

"What's the matter?" asked Sarah, rising on an elbow.

"I spat him out before he could finish coming."

Sarah laughed.  "You got plenty on your face."

"Boys his age make plenty," Maggie noted, wiping her face and studying 
the resulting wet hand.

"They sure are fast!"

Maggie giggled.  "Think how we must've looked.  I'll bet Jeff would've 
been about as quick."

"Yeah," said Sarah dryly.  "Think about Jeff."  She sprang out of bed 
and threw on her clothing.

"Now what's wrong?" asked Maggie, rising to a seat on the bedside.

"The baby's waking up," Sarah muttered.  She breezed from the room 
without sparing another glance for its other occupants.


* * *


After the noon meal Jeff pushed back his chair, wiped his mouth on the 
back of his hand and announced, "I'm leaving Bud with you this 
afternoon."

Stricken, imagining the worst, Sarah looked up.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."  He grinned at her.  "Fact is, Bud ran the seeder 
just fine.  Even managed not to seed that fairy ring of yours.  But we 
ain't seeding this afternoon.  Promised Chuck the other day me and Jack
would help him reroof his house."  Jeff chuckled.  "He's cut himself a 
bunch of cedar shakes.  Least we'll smell good when we get back."

"You ain't taking Bud?" asked Sarah.

"Naw.  Reckon Bud oughta stay close by for a while."  Jeff grinned 
around at Maggie.  "You remember Chuck Hazlett?  You fooled around with
him some when you was still at home."

Maggie's face brightened briefly.  "Oh, yes, Chuckie Boy.  He's 
married."

Jeff laughed.  "Didn't bother you none then!  But in fact his wife left
him after losing two babies.  Some women give up easy."  Jeff regarded 
her slyly.  "I happen to know he likes to share."

"Share what?" asked Jack.

"Good luck," was the answer.  "I bet he'd love to see you again, 
Maggie."

"Well, gosh!"  Her face was animated.  "You mean you'll take me along?"

"I was thinking of that.  You could fetch water for us, I reckon, and 
maybe help us take breaks."

"Oh, wow!"  She sprang from her seat and ran up the hall.

Jeff winked at Sarah.  "You didn't need her this afternoon, did you, 
Dear?  Bud'll be here."

Sarah's lip curled.  "'Likes to share,' does he?  Well, don't bring him
around here!"

"Ain't gonna.  You ain't lived Maggie's life.  For her the more guys the
hotter.  She wants a new one every day."


* * *


When the three had walked away across the fields, dwindling visibly in 
the kitchen window, Bud helped Sarah clear the table, then brought his 
notes and pencil into the kichen and resumed his seat.  He studied his 
work while she washed the pots and dishes.  She glanced around at him 
often, smiling secretly, picturing herself as his wife, but shaking her
head, certain that any man so handsome and educated would have a girl 
back home -- maybe even a wife already.  He had claimed to be 24, but 
what if he were wrong about that?  The experience just before she found
him could well have addled his brains.  She had examined his body 
intimately in bright light and had enough experience of men to judge its
age between 20 and 35.  What if he were older and married, with kids of
his own?

After neatly hanging up her drying cloth, she sat down beside him at the
table.

He looked up, smiled and started to rise.  "I was hoping you'd join me."
He was wearing Tim's blue shirt, a bit small on him.  His chest was 
fuller than Tim's.  

She found it odd for a man to stand each time she captured his 
attention: odd but very touching.  He fell back into the seat and put 
down the pencil.  His hands caught hers.  Suddenly her eyes brimmed with
tears.

Leaning close, he produced a clean handkerchief.  "What's wrong, Sarah?
Tell me how I can help.  Is it Maggie and Jeff?"

"No."  Sarah's eyes were red-rimmed, pale, and defenseless.  "This ain't
easy.  I hate crying."

He rubbed her back, still holding one hand, and chuckled slightly.  
"I'll assume what every man does when his woman starts crying.  Tell me
what I did wrong."

She snuffled, "You done ... nothing you shouldn't've."

"Do my looks offend you?"

She gulped.  "You ... you're the handsomest man I ever saw!"

He chuckled again, pressing the handkerchief to her cheek.  "I believe 
you're the first woman to admit it.  Then let me tell you about you."

"Huh?"

"Even through your tears, you have the bluest eyes I ever saw, with long
thick lashes.  That lovely red hair comes down to your neck in the 
frailest of ringlets where I love to entwine my fingers.  Your skin has
the lustrous, wholesome color of one who enjoys working in her garden.
You have freckles on your hands and arms appropriate to red hair, but 
curiously none on your face or chest.  Ah, that chest: chill-hardened 
nipples pressing for recognition through your blouse!  You smell of 
motherhood and milk, the warmest of all flavors, and your breath is 
sweet.  So what do you have to cry for?"

She took a deep breath.  "Please forgive me, but I read part of your 
notes and I can feel the emptiness already."

His voice was tender and reassuring.  "Sarah, my sweet, you can read 
them anytime you wish.  I have absolutely nothing to hide from you."

"Bud, I enjoy it when we take walks and you push Joseph in his carriage.
It makes me feel like we are . . ."  Feeling foolish, she was unable to
finish.

He lifted her chin tenderly.  "It makes you feel as though we're a 
family?"

She fell into his arms, sobbing audibly.  "You ... you might go away 
soon and leave me with ... only memories of what might have been."

"Sarah, you know why I'm writing these notes.  I promised I would, to 
remind me of what we share each day.  You're a lovely woman.  There'll 
never be another like you in my life."

She sighed.  "Bud, I ain't educated, but I know what it means.  You're 
from a good family that'll expect you to marry a good woman."

"A good woman?  You mean the same woman who found me wearing prison garb
and still adopted me, in effect?  There I lay: bruised, battered, broken
and bleeding; and you somehow put my body across your horse and made it
back to your farm.  I can imagine the conversation you and your father 
had, once he spotted a dirty convict.  You bathed me, let me slake my 
thirst at your delicious nipples and sucked me to heaven and back again.
Sarah, you're a fine, willing woman any man would be honored to marry 
and spend his life making her sing with happiness every night."  It was
his turn to sigh.  "I haven't told you.  My dream is playing with Joseph
as my own and having our own babies together."

"Oh, god, Bud!"

"Here."  He gave her the notepad.  "Read it all.  I mean every word of 
it."

[Begin Handwriting]
Martin Farm, near Faresville, Ill.
May 26, 1938

My dear "Bud," whoever you are:


Three weeks ago a beautiful and charming lady named Sarah Martin rescued
you from the face of death.  

She found you on a rock, beaten and unconscious and dressed in a prison
suit.  Showing real intelligence, she figured out how to get your body 
up on her horse.  Alone, this courageous woman transported you to her 
farm, bathed you, fed you at her breasts, encouraged your spirit and 
even furnished professional medical attention.  The doctor diagnosed you
with amnesia.  Though you can remember much, you don't know who you are
or how you came to be on that rock.  Without doubt her tender care 
accounts for you being able to write these notes.

Since then you have been a guest in her home.  She and you have become 
very close.  I believe you have fallen in love with her.  Yet she fears
you have a wife and family waiting for your return.

Sarah has been widowed for over a year.  Her husband was killed in a 
farming accident.  The Martin farm contains a big farmhouse and 
interesting family members, including Jeff Thompson, her father, who 
named you "Bud," and Jack, her 14 year-old son, who regards you as a 
competitor for his mother's love.  She has an 18 month-old baby, Joseph,
who is the most beguiling child you have ever known.  You wish he were 
yours!

The doctor predicts a sudden recovery of your earlier memories 
concurrent with the loss of recent ones.  You are writing these notes 
before Sarah becomes a complete stranger to your eyes, depending upon 
them as a legacy for the future, when Sarah and her darling Joseph may 
look to you for protection.  If you awake and discover this lovely woman
to be a stranger, this in your own handwriting will inform you of what 
you have lost.   

Your name escapes you.  Your identity is lost, yet somehow you can feel
your mother's presence.  As Sarah most literally nursed you back to 
health, you drank often from her fresh nipples.  It was here that you 
had a sense of the loving mother who nursed you as a babe.

_DON'T LOSE SARAH!_

by the man known only as Bud, who loves Sarah Martin
[End Handwriting]


She looked up tearfully.  "Oh, god, Bud, I love you too!"

She rose, turned her chair around, sat beside him, pulled his face to 
hers and kissed him deeply.  He returned her embrace.  When their mouths
finally parted, he licked the tears off her cheeks.

She blinked.  "Isn't that salty?"

"I love my salty woman, but I wish you wouldn't cry."

"Now it's because I'm happy.  Oh, Bud, _my_ Bud!"

Feeling a tug on the opposite pants leg, Bud looked down.  It was 
Joseph, pulling himself to his feet.  Erect, the toddler clapped his 
hands, laughing with delight and exhilaration.

"Bud ... Bud."   The baby raised his arms to the man.  A sharp 
intelligence gleamed in the wide-eyed childish stare, innocent and 
trusting.  Sweaty red curls formed about his face.

Bud's smile flashed in response.  He lifted the toddler over his head 
and lowered him into his lap.  Frantic giggling was the reward, pleasing
his mother.

Bud asked, "How's my big boy?"  Hugged close, the child looked up at
Sarah.

"Is he stinky?" she asked.

"He smells of milk and you, two odors of which I'm fond."  His voice 
died as studied Sarah's reaction.  "Will you excuse my familiarity?  It
just came out.  I love him as my own, which I think I should add to my 
notes."

She touched his arm, "Bud, it's okay.  Ain't no harm done."  She sighed.
"He needs a father.  He's coming to love you too."  She smiled fondly.

"God, you're lovely!"  Holding the baby with one hand, his other fingers
traced a line along her finely chiseled nose and full lips.

"Ah, go on with you.  I've been crying.  I must look a sight."

His fingers lifted a heavy breast.  "Sarah, you are everything a man 
desires."

She touched his face and blushed, her heart fluttering.  Working outside
with Jeff and Jack had preserved the tan of his face.  Her eyes admired
his dark hair and handsome features.

He brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes.  "Do those pans mean you're 
making pies today?"

"Maggie won't be pleased.  She makes a better crust than I do."

"So you're putting her to work."

"We all pull our weight around here.  Always have, and then some.  I 
hope Chuck pays Dad more than a promise.  We need cash."

"I'm amazed at how well you do without it."

She shook her head.  "We're gonna need it by the basket full.  It's a 
bitter pill to see my husband's farm go into Percy's pocket.  Tim was a
damn fool to take a mortgage."

Bud stared at her.

"Well, he was!" she declared, looking away.  "No matter how cheap he 
could buy equipment."

The man regarded her speculatively.  "Sarah, how much do you need for 
the short run?  I'm sure you've noticed my fancy shoes.  Is there any 
place nearby to sell them?"

Her eyes widened.  "Oh, Bud!"  She hugged him and kissed his neck.  "I 
believe you'd do anything to help us."

"I would."

Her smile became a strained laugh. "Bud, this community is at the mercy
of the bank.  So many left to stay with relatives because there's no 
money in their pockets.  Johnson, who runs the last store in town, is 
letting a few families have credit.  He says when his stock is gone, 
that'll be it."

"I wish I knew how to contact my father."

Sarah cleared her throat, "Your father.  That means your memory is 
returning."

"Maybe.  I think he's a banker in Chicago."

Sarah had to fight to keep her voice steady.  "Bud, I'm frightened."

He was holding her hand.  "Absolutely no need for you to fear it, even 
if it's true."

She laughed tremulously.  "Not that.  I think I've come to fear your 
memory coming back more even than losing the farm."  She sighed and 
wiped away a tear.  "Bud, you brighten Joseph's world when he sees you.
You're becoming the father he never knew.  Maybe it would be kinder to 
wean yourself away from him."

"Sarah, I love him."  He looked sad.  "I rather cut off my right arm 
than ignore Joe."

"Bud, that's just it.  You love him."

Confusion widened his eyes.

She took a breath.  "When you see us as strangers, it'll be Joseph who 
hurts the most.  You'll just stare at him."

Bud shook his head.  "The horror is, I can't say I won't.  Sweetness, 
I'm truly sorry."

"Joseph, come to me, darling.  My breast is full."  She took her son 
from the man's arms, sat in the creaky old rocker and opened her top.  
Bud heard the child's slurps and gulps.  He took up his pencil to 
strengthen the record of his admiration.


* * *


Dusk had fallen heavily when the three roofers returned through the 
kitchen's backdoor.

"About time!" declared Sarah, gritting her teeth.  "Rang the supper bell
an hour ago."

"Trying to finish," explained Jeff, grinning ruefully.  "We didn't make
it."

She sniffed.  "Too much help, I'd guess."

He laughed.  "Ask her."

Maggie was last through the door.  She was swaddled in a ragged 
bedsheet, which she promptly wadded up and threw in a corner of the 
room, revealing herself to be naked beneath it, aside from the cracked 
shoes she had worn on arrival at the Martin's.

Bud cocked his head thoughtfully.  "I was about to guess mosquitoes."

The woman snarled, "They tried to eat me alive.  God, I'm starving!"

"We should've left before sundown," said Jeff.  "Hope you kept something
warm for us."

"What happened to your clothes?" demanded Sarah.

"Lost them!"

Sarah blinked.  "How'd you do that?"

"Chuck's house is such a mess, couldn't find my dress."  She referred to
the dress she had worn on arrival, donned especially for this sojourn.
"I think Chuck stole my panties."

"Jack, get her a robe.  He _stole_ them?  Must've liked you."

"Oh, he did!" agreed Jack, leering in the hall doorway.

"Go on!" Sarah ordered crossly.  "Then get back here and eat your 
supper.  Help me serve it, Bud."

While she transferred bowls from atop the stove, the man poured coffee 
and spooned food onto plates.  Jack returned with the robe and Maggie 
flung it around herself.  Sarah's nose wrinkled.  "I don't smell that 
cedar you promised."

Jeff snickered.  "Guess we rubbed up against something else more often."

"_That_ I can smell!"_

With everyone seated and eating heartily, Sarah observed snippily, 
"Don't guess anybody needs to ask what went on at Chuck's."

Jeff grunted.  "Well, at least we got the south run covered, where it's
been leaking."  He grinned.  "I admit it ain't much to brag on for three
men working."

Sarah sneered.  "Except you wa'n't working."

"Maggie worked hard."  He leered at the younger woman.  "For sure she 
had a good time!"

She grinned in return around a mouthful of food.  "I did.  You johns 
were sweethearts."

"Taught us something too."

Sarah blinked.  "Taught _you_ something?"

"Sure did.  That you can fit three dicks into a woman's bottom at once."

Sarah's mouth fell open.  "How?"

He chuckled.  "With the help of an armchair.  Chuck's got one, a little
beat-up."

"But you can't ... I mean, _how_?  They's only two holes."

"I did her asshole.  Chuck and Jack got into her cunt."

"God!  At the same time?"

"Yeah.  The trick is for the top guy to kneel on the chair arms."

"Huh?"

"She set with her back to the bottom one -- me -- in my lap.  Jack 
leaned in between the legs and Chuck knelt on the chair arms."

"God!"  Sarah's hand went to her mouth.

Jack grumbled, "Chuck was feeling of my dick."

His mother's head snapped around.  "He what?"

The lad held up thumb and forefinger two inches apart.  "He felt of 'em
together like this."

"Is that all he did?"

"Well, yeah.  I felt of them too."

"Jack!  You don't want to do that!"

The boy shrugged.  "It was kind of fun."

Sarah glowered at her father and began, "Dad ..."

The old man said placatingly, "Take it easy, Honey.  Just made it more 
interesting.  No harm done."  He grinned at the other woman.  "Should've
heard Maggie squeal."

"Oh, I did!" Maggie declared and sighed with longing.  "A topover is the
most thrilling trick!  Too bad it's so hard to get a bunch like that 
together."  Her eyes flashed to Bud.  "Except maybe here."

Sarah's lips curled angrily.  Damned bitch had better leave Bud alone!
She took a deep breath.

"A topover?" asked Jack.

"That's what we used to call three johns at once.  Johns are skittish.
Hard to get three together."

Sarah sniffed.  "I can't believe you spent all afternoon doing ... 
topovers."

"Oh, no," Maggie responded.  "That was the last trick."

"I see.  And how did you find dear old Chuck?"

"Uncle Jeff was right.  Chuck was so glad to see me he nearly came in 
his jeans."  She gave the old man a troubled look.  "What happened to 
those fingers on his left hand?"

Jeff shrugged.  "Farm accident.  He can still hold a nail, though.  Or a
dick.  Does pretty good, I thought."  He grinned at her.  "Didn't hurt 
his dick a bit."

"Oh, no!"  She smiled dreamily.  "That cock of his was all over me."

Jack studied her with bright eyes.  "You really love cocks, don't you, 
Maggie?"

"Of course.  I'm a woman."

"With a very big clit," observed Jeff, regarding her narrowly.

"Well, yes."  She grinned.  "The better to love them with."

"Wow!" murmured the lad.

"What's Chuck gonna do about the rest of his roof?" asked Sarah.  "Can 
you miss another day's seeding?"

"Naw," answered Jeff, "not unless I have to.  But it's okay.  He's got 
some other guys coming tomorrow."

Jack put down his spoon and wiped his mouth.  "We gonna do Maggie 
tonight?"

Jeff shook her head.  "Not me.  I'm wore out."

The lad's eyes widened.  "Well, I'm not!"

Maggie smiled at him.  "I've got to take a bath.  Want to join me?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"After that, maybe I could sleep with you.  Your mamma might be getting
tired of her bed always full of other people."

Sarah looked at Bud.  He nodded slightly.  She said, "That ain't no 
problem tonight."

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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