I went up to him and told him what I wanted.
“I don't know,” he said. “The last man we let on the stand turned out to be an escaped lunatic and put a hole in our drum. That kind of stuff doesn't look so good for us.”
But he let me sit in at the piano for the next set, and when the three numbers were over he asked me to come around and sit in with them when they were through work if I wanted to. I went back to Jackson, and Jane and Ruth were back with him then.
“If you can play like that, why in the devil do you want to write?” Jackson said.
“I like to feel that I can go to bed early if I want to,” I said. “And you can always pawn a typewriter. Did you ever try to raise some money on a piano?”
Ruth had evidently said something to Jane when they were out, because Jane was careful not to drink much, and every time that Jackson turned to fill her glass she had most of her drink left, and so we were all fairly sober when we left the road house.
Jackson drove slower on the way back to the farm, and it was late when we got in. We had what he called a night-cap, and he tried to maneuver Jane aside for a few minutes, but he gave that up in a little while and said that he guessed he'd go to bed. Jane said good night and went into her room and Ruth and I went upstairs to our room. I wondered how he felt about seeing us go off to bed together like that. Ruth said it didn't matter how he felt.
“He's taken more than one father's daughter to bed himself,” she said.
She pulled her dress over her head and sat on the bed in her pants and stockings.
“He'd like to put the works to Jane too,” she said. “He kept trying to get his hand up her dress all evening, and the best he could manage was her knee.”
“He knows something good when he sees it,” I said.
Ruth hung one leg over the edge of the bed and swung it back and forth, working at it. I looked at it too. I never got tired of looking at her legs, or any part of her.
“What do you suppose he thinks of me?” she said. “After all, he can hardly think of me as any other man would think of his daughter. And I'm not hard to look at. I noticed him a couple of times tonight when we were dancing trying to-well, trying to get close to me without letting me notice. Do you think he feels that way about me?”
“My god,” I said, “isn't your own father safe from you? What do you want, anyway?”
“I didn't say anything. I was just telling you what I noticed. And you couldn't blame him, after all, because it isn't as though we had always been together and he had seen me grow up and all that.”
She dropped back on the bed and lifted first one leg and then the other and took off her stockings. She held her legs up stiffly and sighted along them at her toes.
“It would be rather amusing to be screwed by your father I suppose,” she said. “I imagine that it would complete the cycle, somehow, to have shot into your cunt the same jism that you grew from. He doesn't wear a supporting belt or a corset, does he? I mean, is that figure all real?”
Someone tapped very lightly at the door. Ruth covered herself with something. Jane came in.
“I brought back your dress,” she said.
She was wearing some pajamas that Ruth had given her. They were too long and had been turned up at the ankles. Ruth pushed the cover from herself.
“Come here, Jane,” she said. “Did Mr. Jackson see you coming in here?”
“No. I was very quiet.”
“That's good. Because this bed won't hold four, and if he saw you come in he'd probably be in after you. If you had been in the front seat with him coming home, the way he tried to fix it, he'd probably have had you sitting on his lap with his tail up your ass.”
“I'm sorry,” said Jane. “I tried to keep you from seeing what he was doing at the place because he's your father, but I was afraid that if I let him go ahead and do it someone else would see.”
“Throw those things over the chair and come sit with me,” Ruth said. “So you were afraid someone else might see! Is that the only reason that you didn't let him feel you up?”
“Well-” said Jane.
“So you'd like to have him feel you up? Here, don't go away. I was just wondering. Let me open the top of this thing.”
She unbuttoned the pajama blouse in two or three places and slid her hand in. She held Jane in her arms and petted her until she was quiet.
“It would be strange if you didn't want him to feel you up,” Ruth said. “Don't you think it would be strange, Jane, if a girl didn't want any man to feel her up?”
“I–I guess so. He's nice. He smiles nice.”
“If he stays here there'll be times when you'll be alone in the house with him. And if he came into the room where you were then and tried to lift your dress, you'd let him, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you, you little cunt?”
Jane did not say anything. She nodded. Ruth opened the rest of the buttons of the pajama blouse and pushed it away from the girl's tits. She held one in her hand while she spoke.
“He'd open your clothes and put his hands on you and play with you until you were so hot that you wouldn't mind at all if he took your hand and put it in his pants, on his belly-like this-, and pushed it down until you felt his hair under it, and then something else that was big and stiff and wet where you touched the end of it. It would be strange if you didn't like that, wouldn't it?”
“Yes,” said Jane.
Her voice caught on the word. She groped about under Ruth's pants and closed her eyes. Ruth had the pajamas slung halfway down from Jane's hips. She stroked the girl's panting belly and got her fingers into her little cunt.
“His fingers would touch your cunt,” said Ruth, “and then go in, while you held his prick. And then you'd want him to screw you. It wouldn't matter that it was my father. You'd want to be laid, no matter who he was, and if he showed you that he wanted it you'd go down on him and be glad to.”
“Oh let me go now!” Jane cried.
She tried to leap from the bed. Ruth held her and tore the pajamas off and threw them down.
“Not tonight,” Ruth said. “There'll be time enough again to have him jazz you.”
She fell over the girl and spread her legs around her slim waist. She rubbed her cunt against the girl's belly until Jane was quiet.
“Jane,” she said, “what if you saw him trying to lift my dress? What would you think I should do about it? Would it make any difference that he happened to be my father?”
“Why do you ask me about things like that?” said Jane. “You know about them. I don't.”
“Then we'll do something you do know about.”
Ruth began kissing Jane, and she kissed her down to her toes and then up along the inner thighs of her legs. She licked Jane's thighs and put her tongue out and touched her cunt with it. Jane twisted and spread her legs slowly.
“I'm going to steal you,” Ruth said. “We'll run off to an island with the hundred best books and a jack knife and spend our days climbing for coconuts and Frenching each other.”
“Just us?” asked Jane. “I'd rather take a man too. To climb for the coconuts.”
She pushed her cunt onto Ruth's mouth and moved it back and forth. Ruth dug her tongue into it and looked across Jane's thigh at me and winked. I walked across the room and sat on the bed. I still had on my shorts, but they weren't hiding much now.
“We can get along very well without that,” Ruth said. “Why don't you have it mounted?”
“I've seen you try to get along without this before.”
I bent over to look at Jane's cunt. It was dark, now that Ruth had been sucking it, and it looked very deep and hot. I opened it and looked at Ruth. She smiled, and then she puckered her lips and shoved her mouth into Jane's cunt while I held it open. I pinched the lips of Jane's cunt up over Ruth's mouth. She sucked hard and there wasn't any kidding about it. She liked it.
“I wish,” Ruth said after a minute, “that I could believe there was something else as nice as this that I haven't tried yet. I'd have something to look forward to.”
Jane reached for my prick and tore my shorts trying to get her hand on it. I pulled them off and then she tried to twist her head around and stick it into her mouth. Ruth stopped Frenching her and pulled her away from
