“You're wet,” she said. “You let him feel you up, didn't you?”
Jane nodded and slid her legs apart.
“I sat on the couch, and showed him a little of my legs, just the way you said to, and he noticed it right away. Then I kept showing him a little more until I had my legs wide apart, and then he sat down on the couch with me. He did it all a lot slower than the boy who took me out the other night, and before he even had his hand on me, he had me a lot hotter than that boy got me at all. Then when he pulled my dress up and saw that word on my belly, you should have seen his face! He wanted to know where I was last night when he went to my room, and I wouldn't tell him that either. He wanted my lipstick, and when I gave it to him he put that question mark on me. But that was all that happened.”
“That was plenty for the first round,” Ruth said. “Did he say anything about me?”
“No. All that he asked that wasn't about me was if any other men besides Bill were ever around, and I said no.”
Jane slid from Ruth's lap and leaned her head on Ruth's knees. She shoved Ruth's dress up and began kissing her thighs and trying to push them apart and get her face into Ruth's cunt. Ruth shook her head, and had her get up, and then the girl turned to me.
“Not me,” I said. “I'm not mixed up in any of this business.”
“I can lay on the table, like this,” she said.
Jane lay across the table with her dress up to her ass, and showed me everything she had.
“Not for me. I'll take my turn like everybody else.”
“If it wasn't time for dinner,” Jane pouted, “I might be mad at you.”
After dinner I went upstairs and started to work over Charlie's essays again, and I got interested enough in what I was doing so that when somebody knocked on the door it had been dark for a couple of hours. I let Jane into the room, and she wanted to know if I wasn't going to come down again.
“I might,” I said. “What's going on, anything worth taking in?”
Jane said that nothing had been going on, that they had all been sitting on the porch talking and Mr. Jackson had told some funny stories. I asked her to sit down while I put things away, and she sat down without a word, and when I was ready to go down she was still sitting there quietly looking at me. I thought that she had something that she wanted to say to me, so I sat down and waited to see what it was. She got up then, and came across the room and went on her knees.
“Won't you please let me suck you?” she begged me.
I hadn't been expecting anything like that, and I didn't have any hard on for her when she opened my pants, but she didn't mind that. She went down on it as soon as she had it out, and dragging at it with her lips, and every so often letting go of my prick and sucking one or the other of my balls into her mouth, she had it getting stiff in no time. I put my hands down through the neck of her dress, and played with her tits and watched my prick getting too big for her mouth. When it got really stiff she had to let part of it slip out of her mouth, but what she was able to keep she hung onto as though it was the last cock on earth.
She stopped Frenching me after a while, and gurgled something indistinctly around my prick.
“What did you say?” I asked her.
She let go of my prick with her mouth and hung onto it with her hands. “I want him to jazz me,” she said. “Mr. Jackson. I want him to screw me, but I'm afraid to, too.”
“All you have to do is sleep in your own bed tonight,” I told her. “I'm not advising you one way or the other. I'm just telling you.”
Jane rubbed the end of my cock against the flat of her tongue. “Let's go downstairs,” she said. “Could I have one of the Scotch sodas to drink?”
“I think we both need a drink,” I said.
Jane turned on the radio while I was making drinks, and Ruth came in from the porch. The light made her blink.
“Where's Jackson?” I asked.
Ruth took a drink too. “Shut up,” she explained tenderly. “Oh, hell,” she said, after another drink, “he's out on the swing, waiting for me to come back and be felt some more.”
“Your idea or his?”
“Mine, I guess. I've been teasing him all the time you've been gone, and as soon as Jane left he started.”
I finished the third drink pretty soon, and made another round, mainly for myself I hoped.
“He just got his hands on me and went to work,” Ruth went on. “I just about had to dress all over before I came in here. And he wanted to know if I Frenched. Imagine a man asking his daughter if she Frenches!”
“And what did you tell him?”
Ruth looked a little too defiant. “I told him that I did, and I almost went down on him right then. He tried to get me to. He didn't actually ask me to, but he tried to maneuver me into it. And I think I will. I've been jerking him off already, and I think I'll suck him off too, even if he is my own father. Did you ever hear of anything so bitchy?”
“Yes,” I said, “I think I have.”
I remembered what a fellow I once knew from India told me. He played the violin. Named Satya, as I remember. He told me that in parts of India all the kids are expected to suck off the old man a little before breakfast, just for a token of respect or something. The respect part seemed all right, but before breakfast! Christ!
Jackson came in, being hearty, and I gave him a drink. Ruth took him to the couch and they sat there together and we kept drinking, and she kept edging closer to him and finally he was feeling her up a little right there. Jane came over to me and sat on my lap. A moment came when suddenly everybody was silent.
“Does anyone know any card tricks?” Jackson asked.
The liquor affected Jane quicker than the rest of us. She said that she thought she was still able to stand on her head.
“Good,” said Ruth. “You stand on your head.”
Jane put a pillow in the middle of the room and set her forehead on it, and tried to lift her legs. Her dress fell and covered her head, and we all looked at her bare legs and her ass. She fell over three times.
“I'll help you,” Ruth said.
She held Jane's legs up, but instead of helping her to balance, she patted her ass, and stabbed her finger at the other girl's cunt. Jane wriggled and tried to push her dress up and away from her face.
“I can't see anything,” Jane said.
“That's all right,” said Ruth. “We can see everything. Both of the men are looking at you. I'm going to show my father what happened to your asshole.”
She dragged Jane across the floor by the legs and held her spread toward Jackson.
“Here,” she said to him. “Get a good look at her. All evening she's been trying to show herself off to you, and she'd do this herself if she wasn't a little afraid of you.”
“She certainly allows somebody to take a few liberties,” Jackson said. “Or is it in fashion now to paint your asshole?”
“Only when it's to be shown,” Ruth said.
“What about your own ass?” Jane said.
She got away from Ruth and pulled her dress away from her face, but she didn't try to hide her pussy.
“Why don't you show your own ass?” she said.
Ruth looked at her father. Then she slowly pulled up her dress and bent over with her ass almost up to his face.
“You couldn't see that out on the swing.”
Jackson yanked open his pants and got his cock out. He pulled Ruth backward to him, and when she sat down she sat down on his cock. She jumped when it goosed her. Jackson held her and I saw her losing her balance and she sat down hard again and that time it drove into her cunt.
Jane came over to me. She watched Jackson at work on Ruth's clothes, unfastening snaps and opening things, and she went after my cock. I helped her get it out of my pants.
“Stick it in my cunt fast and jazz me like he's jazzing her.”
