Marcia threw her arms around his neck.
'Oh that makes me so happy!' She kissed him on the chest and rested her head against him. She felt so tired, so contented. 'Nat,' she said to hear the sound of his name. 'My Uncle Nat.'
'Damn,' he said, shaking his head. 'I just fucked my niece.'
He looked hard into her eyes. She could see the wrinkles he'd earned from the road, the taut leathery features of a Westerner who in another time might have booted a stage coach across the rocky roads. She wasn't afraid of Sam Philbert anymore.
'Can we get married?' she whispered.
'We'd better talk about that later.' He turned off the small light in the sleeper and pulled her back against his belly. 'We got some driving to do tomorrow and then Denver to do up. And after that I'd like to have a little conversation with this Sam Philbert sonofabitch.'
Marcia laughed and wiggled her ass against his soft cock. She wondered what it would be like to have Nat fuck her in the ass.
How naughty could she get?
She giggled, bit her bottom lip. Pretty damned naughty. It felt good getting naughty with someone like Nat. He was family. She swallowed hard, letting her lips form the word carefully. Family. Kin. No, she wasn't going to drag all that up to worry about tonight. She closed her eyes and nestled deeper in her uncle's embrace.
'I certainly wish your sister would have left a message for that young man, Sam Philbert. He's called five times a day since she went with her uncle to Denver.'
Robin looked up from her grapefruit. 'Yes, Mom.'
'I get the feeling that something funny is going on. I don't see why Marcia would want to treat Sam badly. He was so charming the night she introduced him to the family…' Her mother was filing her nails. She was always filing her nails.
'I thought he was a jerk.'
'What did you say, darling?'
'Nothing.' Robin squinted at the sour piece of grapefruit she'd forked into her mouth. 'Isn't Marcia coming back today?'
'That's what Nat said in his message. So nice of him to put up with Marcia. They used to have such times together. I think Nat always missed having a child of his own. Gloria was never much interested in starting a family. Nat just adored little Marcia and she knew it.'
'Yeah.' Robin dug her spoon at the grapefruit, put it down.
She wasn't hungry. She was tired. She hadn't had much sleep for the past few days. And when she did get to sleep, she dreamed something which always woke her up. Boys called them wet dreams. Because they came when they had them. She'd only come once, but her panties got pretty soppy whether she woke up first or not. So maybe they were wet dreams for girls too.
She was always on the verge of tears. Day or night. There was one thing she wanted more than anything else. That was to see Stevie again. Even now she could see him, see his naked body, see his… his cock! She could feel that hard, hot prick jumping in her hand as it spit seed onto her skin.
Though someone else might think she was crazy, that time with him had been lovely. She tried hard to remember how his cock had felt… that slimy stuff dripping off her tits. Her mother was staring at her.
'You have the strangest look on your face, Robin. Is something wrong?'
'No! No… nothing. What could be wrong?'
'You've been acting… out of touch of late.'
Robin scraped her chair back. 'I gotta go.'
'Oh yes, how are your tennis classes coming?'
'Fine. Just fine.'
Robin hurried down the hall to her room. No matter what trouble it might cause, no matter if her brother didn't want to see her… she just had to see him. At least he could hug her and tell her that he still loved her. Forget the fucking.
Robin laughed without humor. Ha! If only she could forget about fucking. For eighteen years she hadn't thought much about fucking at all and then – blam! – it was all she could do to take a bath without touching her pussy. She couldn't even sleep without dreaming about cocks and balls and her brother kissing her cunt.
Robin wiggled out of her nightie and put on her pleated tennis skirt. It was snow white and contrasted nicely with her tan legs. It hung pertly on her high, firm ass, a short skirt that swirled out to show her cunt when she turned before the mirror.
She covered her cunt with white bikini panties trimmed with lace. She liked the sexy feel of the elastic waistband riding so low on her abdomen cutting across the plump cheeks of her ass so that an inch of her crack showed.
She spun again, began to ponder what she'd put on for a top. She tried a little halter that went with the tennis outfit, but the cups were too rigid. Her small tits felt lost inside and the silhouette she saw in the mirror was not her silhouette.
At last she chose a thin nylon shirt. It was white and almost translucent so that when everything was right, she could just glimpse the brown curve of her titties underneath. It was too short to tuck into her skirt, short enough that her flat tummy showed when she walked.
She ran a brush through her hair and pursed her lips at the reflection in the mirror. Too many freckles and that God-awful mole on her left earlobe. At least she'd gotten rid of her braids and blown her hair out with Marcia's dryer to add something to her femininity. It didn't look half bad.
She'd gone with braids for so long that this change had truly surprised her. Her hair was thick and lustrous and seemed to have a slight natural curve so that it swept up cutely at the tops of her shoulders.
Robin grabbed the tennis racket she'd borrowed from a friend and bounced down the hall in her new tennis shoes. She didn't even know how to hold the damned thing, but her folks didn't have to know that.
Her mother was puttering in the kitchen so Robin climbed the stairs quickly and sneaked into Marcia's bedroom. She found the bottle of perfume on the dresser, dabbed it behind both ears and on her wrists. She was about to put the top back on when she remembered another important place. She got two big droplets on the tip of her finger and spreading her thighs, pulling down her panties, she wet her dainty pubes. It felt sexy to have that scent down there and she knew that if her cunt got really hot it would really smell nice.
Sure, she was going after Stevie. She wanted him so bad. She wasn't even afraid to admit it to herself. She took a last look, this time in her older sister's full-length mirror. She looked pretty damned good!
'Robin, are you in your sister's room?'
'Uhh… looking for something, Mom.' Robin hurried downstairs with her racket.
Her mother was drying her hands as she started out the door.
'And what is that smell?'
'See you later, Mom.'
Stevie's jeep was parked in back when she came up the alley. It always made her heart skip when she saw that he was there, when she knew her trip had not been wasted. Of course she hadn't so much as spoken to him on the phone since that last strange time.
She was breathless with excitement as she started up the weedy, overgrown back yard. But she sensed something was wrong, even before she reached the back step. A voice, two voices through the small window at the corner. A girl's voice in her brother's room.
Robin bit her lip, frozen there with the racket clenched under her arm.
There were too many emotions running through her for Robin to know exactly how she felt. Over it all was a vague sickness in her stomach. She went over to the two big bushes that partially had the window from view. She looked guiltily from side to side. A peeping torn was what people called them. At least no one would see her in the bushes.
She pushed the branches apart and moved into the leafy, green shade. The window was all the way open, the curtains sucked out through the screenless space. Robin listened.
