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Message-ID: <61760asstr$1323223803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Colin's Women {Kellis} (bg oral) [2/3]
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Date: Tue, 06 Dec 2011 21:10:03 -0500
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Colin's Women
by Kellis
Fall, 2011


Part 2


He heard the garage door motor and looked at the clock: 11:25.  On a 
Friday night!  He chuckled and asked himself before returning to his 
ebook reader, "When did Janey get so obedient?"  At least she was home 
at a reasonable hour.

From the corner of his eye he saw her pad through his doorway wearing a
strange dress in a flowery print.  This time she had removed her shoes 
and walked quietly.  She sat in his recliner, turned it toward the bed 
and regarded him expectantly.  Eyes on the book, he pretended to ignore
her.

"What's so interesting?" she asked after awhile.  "You're even grinning
a little."

"Oh?  Where'd you come from, Janey?  You do know it's customary in 
civilized society to announce yourself, at least by knocking at the 
door."

"Civilized!" she repeated scornfully.  "What are you reading?"

"One of Rachel Thorpe's slushpiles.  Her heroine has carefully tied up a
loop of ribbon and practiced tonguing it over a dildo in her mouth.  
She's planning for her lover to withdraw his cock decorated the same 
way.  But already the man is curious about the funny way she talks, 
before she can get his britches open."

Janey's eyebrows rose.  "Another ruined plan, is it?  About like mine 
with Chuck."

"Well, it's too soon to tell if this one's ruined.  What happened with 
Chuck?"

"Not too soon to tell for Chuck.  I told him I wouldn't be in this 
weekend.  He said ..."  She took a deep breath.  "He implied he'd hurt 
Nell if I didn't show."

"He _what_?"  Colin put down his e-reader and sat up.

"I was ... surprised and upset that he even knew about her.  Of course I
didn't know it when I went down there tonight."

"What happened?"

"He had three guys waiting.  You were right.  They paid Chuck to use me.
I don't know how much."

"And did they?"

"Use me?  Oh, yes."  She shuddered, though apparently not with pleasure.
"It was different, Pops.  Chuck scared me.  They hurt me.  Chuck slapped
me when I complained."

He studied her unmarked face.  Either she had worn no makeup or it had 
rubbed off.  "Do you have bruises?"

She shrugged.  "I'm sure -- internally.  My anus bled a little."

"What did you do -- slip out while they weren't looking?"

"Exactly.  I had to leave my shoes and clothing.  The first three guys 
were fucked out and Chuck went to get three more.  He locked me in the 
room but I worked the latch with a hairpin."

"Did they rape you, Janey?"

"Not exactly.  I knew what was going to happen when I went in there."

"Did you tell them _no_?"

"After they twisted my arm behind my back, but Chuck made me shut up."

"Then it was rape."  His voice firmed.  "Go to the bathroom and wash 
yourself out with whatever you can find.  A torn anus can be seriously 
infectious.  Let me make a phone call or two and I'll come in to help 
you."

"What if Chuck comes after me?"

"I hope he tries.  Go on.  I'll take care of the external problems."

She sprang out of the chair and fell beside him on the bed, arms tight 
around his neck.  "Oh, god, Pops!  I feel so much better already."

He disengaged her gently.  "Go clean up, honey.  And close my door 
behind you."

When she had left, he consulted a number in his notebook and punched 
buttons on the telephone.  On the fourth ring a man answered.

Colin said, "Stude, I know it's late, but I need help."

"Is this Judge Redfield?"

"Yes."

"You need help that bad?"

"I'm afraid so, old pal."

"Who you want rubbed?"

"It may come to that.  Do you know a place on Meredith Drive they call 
_Chuck's Roadhouse_?"

"Yeah.  Smooth looking but rough acting, like its operator."

Colin took a breath.  "My daughter, Janey, has got herself tangled up 
with this Chuck."

"Romantically?"

"Sexually."

"I hope she's not in his stable."

"That may be the problem.  He thinks so.  She doesn't."

Stude paused before asking, "How does that work?"

"To get her to service his clients, he's threatening harm to her 
daughter."

"Who?"

"My granddaughter, Nell Heath.  He's researched Janey enough to know 
about the kid."

"Huh!  You'd think the Redfield name would slow him down."

"She still uses her married name.  Chuck hasn't actually hurt Nell yet,
though he's hurt Janey.  I take this very seriously, Stude.  I'd 
appreciate if you'd deliver him a stiff warning.  He could be charged 
with rape, kidnapping, assault on a female and coercion by threat.  Tell
him if he comes near my granddaughter, I'll see him dead."

"I'm putting my shoes on, Judge.  I take it you want Janey left alone 
too."

"Janey is very much her own woman, but she can't handle that crowd.  See
what you can do."

"I can do a lot.  What's the limit?"

"Your best judgment.  Thank you, Stude."

"You're welcome.  Like old times, eh?  I'll call you when I have 
something to report.  Or get arrested."

"Please do, either way."

Colin got up, slipped into a cotton robe and slippers and went down the
hall to Janey's bedroom.  He closed her door carefully behind him and 
locked it.  The light shone from her bathroom, whose door stood ajar.  
Inside he found her bent far over, naked, peering between straight legs
into a mirror propped upon the toilet seat, probing her anus with a 
cuetip.

"Let me," he said, turning her buttocks closer to the light.

"I've douched in front," she volunteered, holding the cuetip towards 
him.

"First an inspection."  With thumbs gouging close to the anus, he pried
it open side-to-side then vertically.  Her flesh glowed wetly crimson 
with a faint seminal odor.  "How many took you here?"

"All four.  They swapped around."

"I see two tiny tears.  They are not bleeding.  What did your lovers put
in here?"

"Just cocks.  The first one tried it dry.  I think it hurt him too."

"Bastard!  These will heal up in a few days if you keep foreign objects
out."

"How long?"

He chuckled grimly.  "You sound disappointed.  How can it feel that good
in an asshole?"

"By it itself it's not so great -- though it has its moments."

"What you want is all holes plugged, is that it?"

"Ooo!"

"For your information, Janey, you can take two cocks at once in your 
pussy."

She regarded him wide-eyed over her shoulder.  "I never thought of that.
Wow!"

"You might even like it better.  I've heard of three at once."

"Huh!  How would you arrange the men?"

"I have a picture of three in the same pussy on my computer."

"I'd like to see it."

He stood up, looking at the open medicine cabinet.  "Did you use the 
last medicated douche?"

"No, I bought a box after Pauline introduced me to Chuck."  She chuckled
humorlessly.  "For a librarian I suddenly had a fast life."

"And you loved it," he accused.

She nodded.  "Chuck has a little lecture on that subject.  It goes, ah,
'Most women don't have the least idea how great their superb equipment 
can make them feel.'"

"He's probably right.  Women can reach the absolute extremes."

"You want me to wash out my asshole?"

"You might even take an enema.  I see a Fleet.  Then apply the medicinal
douche.  Those little tears are dangerous as hell.  That's how queers 
get AIDS."

"I don't think these guys were queer."

"Don't you?  Normal guys are leery of showing each other their cocks."

"Oh yeah?  How about your sex club?"

"Some of its members swing both ways, I believe.  It's what you get used
to.  Speaking of that, I'll give Matie a call tomorrow."

"About me?"

"I'll tell her I've got an orgy girl for her.  One named ... what was 
it, Belinda Touez?  After that it's up to you.  But give those abrasions
at least a week to heal.  You shouldn't hear any more from Chuck.  Let 
me know immediately if you do."

"Matie is the madam?"

He grinned.  "More like the head mistress.  You'll see."

"Don't tell her I'm Belinda.  That was Chuck's name for me."

"Then pick another."

"You pick it."

He reached in the cabinet, withdrew an enema box and handed it to her.
"Get going.  You want my help?"

"No.  This'll stink."

"Holler if you need me."  He started for the door.

"You've got a hard-on," she accused.

"How could I?  That would be obscene."


* * *


The house telephone awoke him.  A light sleeper, he sat up clear-headed,
turned on the bedside lamp and raised the receiver.  The clock indicated
2:17.

"Yes."

"Judge Redfield?  It's Stude."

"Go ahead."

"I'm in my car in front of the roadhouse.  It's crawling with cops."

"I hope they put it out of business.  Who called them?"

"Oh, it's out of business, all right.  Somebody skewered whatever it was
Chuck used for brains."

"Ah, did what?"

"I've still got pretty good contacts in the squad room.  Somebody 
wearing a lady's pump with a needle heel ran the needle into Chuck's 
head more than once.  They've even got a shoe with the rubber tip 
missing off the heel."

"Making it look like a woman killed him."

"Yeah, one named Belinda.  They got a customer who says Chuck raped her
first, so maybe she's not in too much trouble.  But just in case, Judge,
this is a head's up."

"Thank you.  Did you have the chance to talk to Chuck?"

"No.  They think he was killed no later than midnight."

"I see.  What have you told your squad-room friends to account for your
interest?"

"Just passing by."

Colin took a deep breath.  "Good work, Stude.  Check with them in the 
morning and let me know what else you find out."

"Call you at home?"

"Right.  Anytime, day or night."

After the click Colin waited.  As expected he heard a second click.  He
hung up the telephone, got out of bed, thrust feet into slippers, threw
on a robe and hurried down the hall to Janey's room, where the light was
already on.

She was sitting up in bed.  Her eyes were huge.  "I didn't do it."

"I want to believe you."

"I didn't.  I really didn't!  I told you: Chuck was rounding me up some
more men when I left."

"Where did he go for the men?"

"In the bar."

"All right.  Do you have any idea _who_ killed him?"

"I'd bet on Shartruz."

"Chartreuse?  Who's that?"

"She's his main squeeze.  I heard she's part owner of the club, but I 
don't believe it.  She's too young."

"How young?"

"In her twenties.  And she's a lush."

"According to Stude, _Belinda_ killed him."

"I heard that, but it wasn't me.  Maybe they found my shoes and somebody
said they were Belinda's."

"Maybe your heel made the hole in his head.  Did it have a rubber tip?"

"They all do."

"Hmm.  Is a woman's pump heavy enough for the heel to penetrate a thick
skull?"

"It would if somebody stood in it and stomped."

"That would need Chuck's head on the floor.  Did somebody knock him down
first?"

"I wouldn't know.  But they'd have to, wouldn't they?"

"If that's what happened, a girl or woman must've done it.  How would 
she knock him down?"

"Why are you so sure it was a female?"

"I never knew a man who could wear a woman's high heel.  Men's feet are
too big."

"Some men have small feet, don't they?"

"Maybe.  Why do you like Chartreuse?"

"They had a fight last night."

"Chuck and Chartreuse?  Over what?"

"Me.  She has high-heels even sharper than mine."

"Well, at least you -- we -- don't have to worry about Chuck hurting 
Nell."

"But ..."

"Yeah.  Now we have a new worry."

She took a deep breath.  "I'm sorry, Pops."

"Do you think the law will come after you?  Should I get you out of 
town?"

She chuckled humorlessly.  "Didn't I hear you say running is evidence of
guilt?"

He sighed.  "Indeed it is.  All right.  When was the last time you saw 
Chuck?"

"Um.  You want the time or the circumstances?"

"Both."

"Well, it was just before eleven.  The other guys had splooged and left.
Chuck was the last.  He jizzed in my ass and made me clean him up.  Then
he said --"

"With your mouth?"

"You know it.  Why do men love to make you taste your own shit?  Not 
that I did.  Three or four splooges is a pretty good butt bath -- not to
speak of the enema I took before I went out."

He muttered sourly, "You did say you expected it."

"I didn't expect them to treat me so ... so contemptuously."

"That's a downside of whoring."

"Why is that?  Which is another question for you.  You'd think men would
be glad to only need money."

"Some of them are.  Probably most.  So you sucked Chuck clean.  Then 
what?"

"He pushed me back on the bed, told me to stay put while he found me 
some more 'friends.'  I jumped up and told him I was leaving.

"'No, you aren't,' he said.  'You're just getting started tonight.'

"'You son of a bitch,' I said.  'You and I are through!'

"He sort of nodded.  'You only like young studs, is that it?  Well, you
can't always get what you want.'

"'Neither can you,' I said.  'I mean it.  I'm leaving and never coming 
back.'

"'Yes, you will -- if you don't want that cute little daughter to get 
hurt.'

"That shut me up.  He went out, taking my shoes and clothes with him.  I
heard him turn a key in the lock."

"Go on."

"I found a dress in the closet and a hairpin.  It was an old two pin 
lock, nothing to pick.  I opened the door a crack --"

"It's hard to believe you picked even a two-pin lock."

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Where'd you learn how?"

She chuckled.  "Just last week I read a book on locks.  Somebody had put
it back on the shelf out of order.  The section on keyless operation was
especially interesting."

"Wonderful!"  He shook his head.  "You need a job that uses more of your
talent."

"Like an orgy girl?"

"That takes no talent!  Did you have any trouble escaping the 
roadhouse?"

"I slipped out the backdoor.  Nobody saw me."

"How'd you start your car?  Or did you?"

"Chuck didn't notice my purse.  It was still under the bed."

"So the last time you saw him he was hale and hearty."

"Huh!  His dick was still hard."

"Did you catch the names of the three other guys?"

"First names.  If you can believe them."

"Would you recognize them if you saw them?"

"Oh, yes!"

"How long did you entertain them?"

"Um.  I got there about nine.  Chuck pulled me straight into that 
bedroom.  They were waiting."

"The same guys as the last time?"

"No.  Older."

"Older and meaner?"

"Like I said: contemptuous."

Colin thought over her words.  He took a deep breath.  "All right.  Go 
back to sleep, if you can."

"Do you still love me, Pop?"

"I'll always love you, Janey."

He returned to his own bed.


* * *


When Nell, still in her nightgown, woke him with coffee, cereal, fruit 
and the newspaper on a tray, the sun had risen and the police, to 
Colin's relief, had not.  She put the tray on his desk, handed him his 
nightshirt and waited while he went to the bathroom.  When he returned 
and took a seat at the desk, she tucked the big cloth napkin into his 
collar and hovered nearby.

"The only trouble with this," he groused after sipping the coffee, "is 
that I don't get to see you eat."

"Well, I did already: orange juice and Alpha-Os."

"Hmph!  What did you spell?"

She giggled.  "_Penis_ was easy.  I couldn't find the G for 
_cunnilingus_."

"Imagine that: no G!  You can spell it another way -- without a G."

"You can?  Cunni-line-us?"

"Cunnilinctus.  I don't suppose your mother's up."

"No.  Her door is still closed.  What was all the excitement last 
night?"

"Excitement?"

"Mama came home early.  The telephone rang a little after two and then I
heard you and Mama talking in her room."

"You understood us?"

"No, your voices were low, like for a secret."  She grinned expectantly.
"But you can tell me.  You know I keep secrets."

He sighed.  "So do I, Nell, and this is your mother's secret, I hope."

Her gaze was speculative.  He met it resolutely.  She grinned brightly.
"I guess you can't tell me, then."

"No."

"And I know Mama won't."  She shrugged.  "Okay.  I'll go watch the 
cartoons, but I'll come back for your tray."

"Thank you, sweetheart.  You take good care of me."

"The same as you do me, Grandpa.  I love you."

"I love you too, sweetness."

She kissed his cheek before scampering out of the room.

He unfolded the newspaper and found the article buried in local news.


*Roadhouse Owner Slain*

Charles Edwards, owner and operator of Chuck's Roadhouse on Meredith 
Drive, was murdered not long before midnight last night, according to 
police sources.  A roadhouse employee found him in an upstairs bedroom,
where he had been slain with an unusual weapon.  The needle heel of a 
woman's shoe had pierced his skull twice.  An arrest is expected today.

Mr. Edwards bought the business, previously operating under the name 
Valley Dale Roadhouse, two years ago.  Under his direction it grew in 
popularity.  According to David Arkness, the assistant manager, it is 
now closed until further notice.


Janey, wearing a negligee and slippers, brought her own breakfast tray 
into his bedroom, set it on the writing table and sat down silently with
lowered eyes.

"Good morning," he said.

When she didn't answer, he added offhandedly, "Your friend Chuck made 
the paper."

She looked up at last and said bitterly, "I guess they made him the 
_poor victim_."

He folded the paper around the article and sailed it within her reach, 
saying, "They didn't offer him much sympathy in only 18 lines.  Our 
newspaper has little regard for roadhouse operators."

"Snobs!" she sneered, spreading the paper beside her tray.

"After last night I didn't think you retained much respect for him 
either."

She sniffed and began to spoon her cereal, reading quickly.  After a 
while her eyes again found his.  "They're sure it was a woman's shoe 
heel.  Wouldn't it be coated with blood and ... brains?"

He nodded slowly.  "Certainly ought to have traces."

She straightened slightly.  "That lets me out.  My shoes wouldn't have 
them."

"Unless somebody wore your shoes to stomp him."

Suddenly her eyes were stricken.

He asked, "Did one of your shoes have a missing heel tip?"

"No."  Her voice firmed up.  "No.  It feels different if you lose a tip.
Mine were both present."

"Of course the missing tip might be found in Chuck's brain."  He added 
thoughtfully, "If someone wore your shoes, the killing was likely 
premeditated.  Who might've done that?"

"I don't know.  Other women were there."

"Any who hated Chuck?"

She shrugged.  "I still bet on Chartreuse.  I heard her fighting with 
him while the three guys were fucking me."

He took a breath.  "If you keep on, you'll say that word in front of 
Nell."

Janey grimaced.  "Don't lecture me, Pop."

He grimaced.  "I take it last night you weren't concentrating on the 
testosterone."

"Last night was no fun."

"Because they forced you?"

"Not really.  Thursday night they were young guys, tickled pink with 
themselves and with _me_.  They couldn't toot my horn enough.  Last 
night they called me 'whore' and 'slut' and slapped my boobs."

He nodded slowly.  "I thought they must've hurt you more than you'd 
say."

"Not so much what they did, Pops, as _how_ they did it."

They ate companionably.  At last he said, "With that attitude I think 
you'd fit in very well with Matie."

"Who?"

"Didn't I mention her?  The madam of my sex club."

Her face brightened a bit.  "What attitude?"

He quoted, "'Not so much what they did as how they did it.'  Believe me,
Matie's guys will treat you with great respect!"

"Oh."  She smiled in contemplation.

"That is, if we can keep you out of jail."

"Oh."  The smile vanished.


* * *


The Saturday morning overcast cleared up after noon and Colin moved his
ebook to a rocking chair on the screened porch rock.  The autumn air was
balmy, filled with bird chirps and the rush of distant traffic.  While 
he read, the telephone rang in the house but soon quit.  Janey had 
obviously answered it.  If he was wanted, she would notify him.

After a while children's voices drew closer until Nell and a boy of 
similar size pushed through the neighbor's bushes into the small 
backyard.  Both children were dressed alike in short sleeved blouses, 
backpacks and shorts.  The lad wore socks and sneakers.

"You'll just trip up again," said the boy in warning tones.  "Why do you
want to wear them anyway?"

Nell said, "They make me feel grown up."

He did not share her attitude.  "_I_ never understood why grownups wear
them either."

Colin studied the girl through the screen.  Her stumbling gate revealed
the subject: a woman's pair of high-heeled pumps into whose fronts her 
stocking feet were thrust.  The boy proved prophetic.  A heel sank into
the turf and pitched her forward onto her hands.

"Damn!" she said distinctly.

"They'll hear you," warned the lad further.  He stood back and let her 
stand up alone.  

Stubbornly she persisted until she reached the porch and opened the 
screened door, saying over her shoulder, "Everybody's upstairs.  Come on
in."

"Hello, Nell," said Colin as the children entered.  "Who's your friend?"

"Oh!"  She recovered her poise and continued, "Grandpa, this is Jimmy 
that I told you about."

"Pleased to meet you, Jimmy," said Colin gravely.

"How do you do, Mr. Heath," said the lad, obviously well taught.

"It's Redfield, son.  Heath is Nell's name."

"Oh."  Jimmy blinked.

The girl's eyes widened.  "I didn't introduce you right.  Excuse me.  
Judge Redfield, my grandpa, this is Jimmy Wavell, my friend from 
school."

The man smiled.  "Very good, Nell.  Jimmy, do you live nearby?"

"In the next block.  You're a judge?"  The boy's eyes had also widened.

"Retired.  Nell, are those new shoes?"

"No."  She giggled.  "Jimmy found them in his trash can."

"I see.  I also see they suffer from the usual problem with second-hand
shoes."

"Dirty?" she guessed.

"They don't fit."  He craned his head.  "But that heel looks dirty."

She took off the right shoe and passed it to him.  It was a royal blue 
in shiny patent leather.  The _left_ heel that he recalled tripping her
was marked with wet mud but this one was smeared with a dried brownish 
stain.  As a curiosity he noted that both heels retained their rubber 
tips.

He addressed the lad.  "Do you know who owned them?"

"My sister," Jimmy answered promptly.  He frowned.  "I meant to ask her.
Do women throw shoes away that just get dirty?"

"They might have another reason," Colin suggested, "like cramping toes."

"Oh.  Yeah, I guess so."  He grinned.  "I showed them to Nell and she 
had to put them on."

"Did she!  Nell, where are your sneakers?"

"In my backpack.  Grandpa, why do women wear high heels?"

He studied her thoughtfully.  "I gather it's meant to attract men.  It 
makes women's legs shapelier and their hips swing when they walk."

She said to the boy, "You see?  My grandpa gives real answers."

"You're lucky."

Colin grinned.  "What's the matter, Jimmy?  Won't your sister answer 
you?  I take it she's grown."

"Oh, yeah.  She's 28.  But she sleeps all day and is gone all night.  
You don't go to work, do you, if you're retired?"

"Work is what you retire from.  Your sister works all night?"

The lad looked away.  "Mamma says working on your back isn't real work."
He looked up inquiringly.  "What kind of work can you do on your back?"

After a moment's thought Colin said, gravely again, "You know the little
pallets with coaster wheels that mechanics use to slide under cars?  You
could say mechanics work on their backs."

"Oh.  Oh, yeah."  The lad frowned.  "But she doesn't know anything about
cars."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah.  When hers broke, she had to call a real mechanic."  He added 
reminiscently, "That was odd.  I go, 'What were you sitting on his 
bumper for?'  And she goes, 'To pay him off, of course.'  She gives 
answers, Judge, but they usually don't make sense."

"Apparently not.  Where does she --"

Eyes large, Nell interrupted.  "I bet I know!  He was standing in front
of her, wasn't he?"

Jimmy blinked.  "The mechanic?  Yeah, when she said she paid him."

"That's how she paid him.  She ..."  Her eyes swung to Colin.  "Is it 
okay to say that outdoors?"

He understood her only too well.  "Nell ... you have to consider if what
you'd say would embarrass anyone."

"Oh, it wont embarrass Jimmy!"

"But it might _me_."

"You?"  She blinked.  "I don't understand."

"Jimmy and I just met.  You can't speak too frankly with new 
acquaintances.  You have to learn each other first.  I was about to ask
you, Jimmy, where does your sister work?"

The lad shrugged.  "Mamma said she goes to a house on a road.  But 
aren't all houses on roads?"

"I believe they are.  Nell, can I have your new shoes?"

"But, Grandpa, I wanted to show them to Mom."

"I'll show them to your mother."

"Well, all right."  She stepped out of the left shoe, passed it to the 
man and developed a smile.  "They're too small for you, Grandpa!"

"I know.  What they really fit is what's important."

She blinked.  "You mean Wilma's feet?"

"Who's Wilma?"

"Jimmy's sister.  She's the one who wears them to work."

"On her back!" said the lad with disgust.  "Who needs shoes to work on 
your back?"

Colin stood up, holding both shoes in one hand and his e-reader in the 
other.  "You kids will have to excuse me; I've got to make a phone call.
Nell, put your sneakers back on before you go outside."

"Yes, Grandpa."

Upstairs in his bedroom he soon reached his man on the telephone.  
"Stude, I've got another piece of work for you."

"Rush job?"

"Sort of.  I want you to swing by here and pick up a woman's shoe.  It 
has what looks like mud on one heel.  I want it DNA tested.  I need the
results before the cops get busy."

"Mud on the heel?  Uh-oh.  You sure you don't just want me to lose it?
Does it have a rubber tip?"

"Yeah, it has the tip.  No, I don't want it lost.  The stain may in fact
be only mud, but just in case ...  Have you heard any more about the 
murder?"

"A lot of material has been developed, Judge.  They interviewed all the
workers and girls and half the customers that didn't run.  But nothing 
major has turned up.  The forensics guy is out of town and won't be back
till tonight, so he'll do the autopsy Sunday morning.  A DNA test, eh?
Does your daughter know?"

"It's not her shoe, Stude."

"Aha!  That's different!"

"And I believe it's connected to the roadhouse.  I'll call Dr. Mitchell
and tell him to expect you."

"Okay.  I'll be there to pick it up in twenty minutes."

"Be thinking about this: we need a sample from Chuck Edwards to match 
the DNA -- if that's what's on the shoe."

"That's gonna be tough, but I'll think about it."

"Good.  See you soon."

Colin went down the hall and knocked on Janey's door.

"It's open," she called through it.

She was leaned back in her recliner with her cell phone to one ear, 
still wearing the negligee and slippers without makeup.  Her nipples 
were evident under the sheer cloth.

She peered up at him and at the shoes in his hand.  "Here's my Pops with
something important on his mind.  I'll call you back, Bertie."  She 
closed up the phone.

"Those aren't _my_ shoes," she said definitely.  "I wouldn't wear blue.
They look like ..."

"I'm wondering if you've seen them before."

"They're the right color, and the rhinestones on the toe ..."  She took
a breath.  "They look like what Chartreuse was wearing last night.  
Where'd you get them?"

"Jimmy Wavell's 23 year-old sister threw them away recently.  He found 
them in a trash can."

"Who's Jimmy Wavell?"

"You ought to pay attention to your daughter's schoolmates."

"I see.  I'll bet Nell couldn't resist them.  She loves jewelry but 
doesn't understand colors yet.  How did she get them from Jimmy?"

"Probably sucked his cock."

"Wh-what?"

"I already said you should pay attention."

She sat up, eyes blazing.  "I'll kick her little round ass!"

"No, you won't.  Not on mere suspicion."

"What made you say that about her?"

"Because Jimmy knows about cocksucking.  Wilma pays her bills with it."

The woman relaxed back into her chair and said thoughtfully, "Sounds 
like Chartreuse.  She loves to suck cock, dogged half the bar last 
week."

"'Dogged?'"

Janey grinned sourly.  "New one to you, Pops?  It means taking on all 
the guys, one after the other, usually by head.  They say she does it 
when she gets half drunk."

He cocked an eyebrow.  "I hear an odd note in your voice."

She shrugged.  "Chuck was out.  He raised hell with her when he came 
back."

"That's not why you envied her."

"Who said I did?  What'll you do with those shoes?"

"It's suggestive that Wilma threw them away last night.  I'm having this
one tested for DNA."

"That looks like mud."

"It might be.  We'll know before long.  But you're sure they belong to 
Chartreuse."

"Or shoes like them, if you can find some.  Those little Vs on either 
side of the jewels ... exactly like Chartreuse's."

"Well, then, if it tests out, you're off the hook."

She sprang to her feet and enfolded him in a fierce hug.  "Pops, you're
the greatest!"

"And you may be luckier than you expected."

Downstairs the doorbell rang.


* * *


The cannon-like report of a close lightning strike awoke Colin early 
Sunday morning.  He listened carefully for any sounds of falling, 
especially bricks from a chimney top that might have attracted the bolt,
but heard only rain drumming on the roof -- and someone else's soft 
breath adjacent to his ears.  He was aware of a weight on his chest and
his thighs.  Warm skin.  His nose registered shampoo.

Another bolt flashed.  Now with eyes open he saw Nell's face on his 
shoulder, her eyes a-glitter.

Several questions arose in his mind.  He said, "Nell, where is your 
nightgown?"

"Up around my neck."

His hand found the garment then ran down her back and over naked 
buttocks sweetly rounded.  "How did it get bunched up there?"

"I thought skin on skin would feel good.  It does too, especially the 
hair on your chest."

"Yes.  Skin does feel good, but ...  Darling ..."

With torso shorter than his, her feet cupped the outside of his calves.
He decided it was her softly folded vulva that compressed the top of his
pubic hair.  With a pulse his cock began to rise.

"Am I too heavy, Grandpa?"

"I can't believe you got on me without waking me up!"

"When the storm began, I came in and lay down beside you.  I found out 
you didn't wear your shirt tonight and ... got the idea of getting on 
top.  Your book says the girl often gets on top.  I moved slow."

"That I believe!  I spilled beer on my shirt and took it off."  He 
sighed heavily.  "But, Nell, you can't stay on me.  If I had a dream I 
might rape you."

"Would that be so bad?"

"It's not the right way to lose your cherry."

"What's the right way?"

He said impatiently, "You read the book.  Didn't it tell you?"

"Not exactly."  Her hips moved on him gently.  "But I can guess.  This 
is what's supposed to do it, right?"

His hands clasped her hips and lifted her to his side while leaving her
head on his shoulder.

"Oh, Grandpa!" she protested.  Settling against him, her small hand 
caught his burgeoning erection and held on to it, perhaps as 
compensation.

He said, "What are you doing, Nell?"

"It's growing, Grandpa!  I like to feel it growing."

"God!  I suppose you tell Jimmy all about how you and I play."

"No, I don't, either.  Jimmy tells _me_."

"Tells you what?"

"How he plays with his sister."

"Video games?"

"I mean grownup games.  She got him to scratch her back then she rolled
over and let him play baby."

Colin grunted.  "She let him suckle?"

"Is that what you call it when it's nipples instead of cocks?"

"I suppose.  Why do you call that a grownup game?"

"Jimmy says men like to suck girls' boobs.  I mean _suckle_.  Then she 
felt of his cock and giggled when it was stiff.  She's like, 'You're 
growing up, Jimmy.'"

"Drunk again, was she?"

"He didn't say.  He's worried about her."

"_He's_ worried?"

"She came home late Friday night, packed a suitcase and left.  She never
did that before."

"And changed shoes, presumably."

"Threw some out, at least.  What did you do with them, Grandpa?"

"Sent them downtown for some tests," he answered without thinking.

"You mean they might have been real?"

"Real?"

"Real diamonds."

She was referring to the rhinestones.  He said, "Wouldn't that be a 
blast."

"Yeah, and she threw 'em away.  Wait'll I tell Jimmy!"

Oops!  Colin said, "Don't tell Jimmy till I get the results back."

"Oh.  Okay.  They're probably just fakes."

"Probably.  Nell, don't tell me you're still afraid of lightning."

"Isn't everyone?"

"Yes, but not so afraid they have to sleep with grandpa."

"Oh.  Well, yeah, I guess that's so.  But it makes a good excuse.  Um, 
I've been meaning to ask you.  Why doesn't Mom want me to get in your 
bed?"

"She told you that?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago, I think.  She ought to know you won't hurt 
me."

"Well, my dear, hurt comes in a lot of guises.  Your mother probably 
fears exactly what you're doing right now."

"You mean ... jacking on your cock?"

He caught her arm and gently separated hand from member.  "That and 
worse."

"Worse?  You mean sucking on it?"

"Nell ..."

"What's wrong with playing with your cock?  It's such a nice toy.  Only
cocks have that slippery skin.  Jimmy's felt kind of good in my mouth.
I'll bet yours would really be awesome!"

He took a deep breath.  "That's called 'sex play,' Nell.  You don't 
normally do it except with someone you trust absolutely.  I know, you 
trust me like that.  But society has rules.  A major one is that you 
don't have sex play with your relatives, especially those related by 
blood."

She sighed.  "Yeah, I knew that.  You sort of figure it out from what 
people _don't_ say."  He heard humor in her voice.  "But like Jimmy 
says, it's fun to do it anyway, to suck your sister's tits."  She added
after a moment, "And jack on grandpa."

"Dangerous fun, my dear.  Apparently the storm has moved on.  You need 
to get back in your own bed."

"Why is it dangerous?"

"Mainly because it's against the law.  Go on back, Nell."

"Oh, Grandpa, let me sleep with you!  It feels so much safer than my 
room way down the hall.  I won't jack you any more.  Please?"

Unable to deny her, he said with a sigh, "All right, my darling, but 
move over so we don't touch."

"Thank you so much, Grandpa!"  She kissed his cheek soundly before 
obeying.

His hard-on, now almost painful, had thrilled to her touch.  He strongly
missed her hand, along with the spicy head on his shoulder.  He sighed,
which she noted.

"Grandpa, did I wake you up or was it the thunder?"

After a moment he said, "Thunder."

"I'm glad it wasn't me."

He slipped a hand under her neck, pulled her head back on his shoulder 
and said reassuringly, "The truth is, I like having you in arm's reach."

"Oh, Grandpa!  I love you so much."

"And I you."

"May I ask you a question?"

He thought he should refuse if they were to get any sleep, but found 
that what he wanted was the return of her hand.  "Go ahead."

"Well, uh ...  Jimmy wanted to ..."  Her voice grew plaintiff.  
"Grandpa, why didn't the book explain about doing it up your ass?"

"Probably because the idea rarely occurs to young women.  Did Jimmy 
actually want to do that?"

"Uh-huh."

Colin reached out, turned on the bedside lamp had studied the girl's 
guileless face.  "I recall boys talking about that practice but I'm 
surprised one would mention it to a girl.  What did he tell you?"

"That it was a grownup thing to do.  I go, 'It'll hurt.'  He's like, 
'No, it won't.  You've shit bigger than me.  Just relax and push out.'"

"Hmph!  I wouldn't think a sister could teach that to a boy.  Did you 
let him?"

"I was going to.  The idea made me tingle."

"You were 'going to?'"

"His mom called him to run an errand."  The girl giggled.  "He couldn't
find his briefs, had to run it without them."

"Where were you?"

"In his bedroom.  They'd fallen under the bed."

"Why weren't you in school?"

"This was yesterday -- Saturday."

"How close did he get?"

"You mean to fucking me?  Is it still fucking if it's up your ass?"

"Indeed it is!"  He sighed.  "Do I understand that Jimmy did not quite 
succeed in sodomizing you?"

"'Sodomizing?'  Is sodomize the right word for ass fucking?"

"One of them.  Did he get it in?"

"No.  He pushed it against my asshole but it wouldn't go in.  He's like,
'Oh, yeah, we need Vaseline.'  Then his mom called him."

"Saved by the bell!"

"'Saved?'  I wanted it!"

"You're just curious.  Nell, forgive me for asking, but I'm more than 
curious; I'm your grandpa.  How much sex have you had with Jimmy?"

"Only with our mouths.  And fingers.  He licked my nub and I sucked his
cock."

"I'm glad to hear that was all."  He thought a moment.  "Tell me about 
Jimmy."

She shrugged.  "He's just a boy -- like I'm a girl."

"Who does he live with?"

"His mother and his sister."

"Where's his father?"

"He doesn't have one -- like me.  He's a bastard too."

Colin's hackles rose.  "Who called you that?"

"Nobody.  Jimmy and I talked it over."

"All right."  Colin shook his head.  "Who do you suppose showed him how
to perform sodomy?"

She understood.  "I don't know, Grandpa ... unless it was his sister.  
He found her diddle."

"Her ...  Do you mean her dildo?"

"Is that the word for a fake cock?  She might have sodomed him with it."

"_Sodomized_.  Or herself where he could see.  Someone certainly has 
either shown him or described it in great detail.  Nell, my darling, you
need to be careful.  Jimmy may be too advanced for you.  And here's a 
definite warning: be very careful whom you talk to on these subjects.  
You already know too much for a preadolescent girl."

"I do?"

"I'm afraid so.  You'll get us all in trouble if the wrong person hears
these words in your mouth ... or if a child repeats them to an adult and
says you told her."

"I'll be careful, Grandpa."

She fell into a reflective silence.  He thought to admonish her further
but hugged her tighter instead while turning off the bedside lamp.  When
he awoke in the morning, she was no longer in his bedroom.

(Continued in Part 3)
Contact: kellis@dhp.com

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