Dolores was slumped down in her seat, her legs wide. She had pulled the very loose leg opening wider and high up on her thigh. She was pantyless. I know – I could see her fingering her pussy through the leghole. And she was watching my eyes in the rearview.
All in a flash, you should excuse the expression.
I picked up speed from the intersection and pushed the limit a little. Like it or not, I was getting a tremendous hard on, and since I was bare under the Levis, it was going to be very, very apparent. I hoped we didn't get caught at either stoplight.
Of course the first was bright red.
I glanced in the rearview. Dolores's eyes were half-closed. She was pinching her nipples through her tee-shirt with one hand. The other was still between her legs. She had one finger inside her cunt and another was working on her clit, just rubbing back and forth in little circles.
Penny was chattering about how quiet it was out here.
"Yeah," I said. "Quiet. Real quiet."
"Don't you think it's nice out here, Dolores?"
"Wonnerful," Dolores mumbled.
The light changed just as Penny was about to turn to her sister. I floored it. The acceleration kept Penny facing forward – the same direction as my dick, now aching and trapped in my jeans.
We barely made the other stoplight on the yellow, just as Dolores was stiffening and shaking in the back seat. She was biting her lower lip and shivering with her orgasm. Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled at me and licked her lips.
We turned into the well-lit parking lot for the little LIRR station as Dolores sat up straight and tugged her clothes into place. Then she licked the fingers that had been working between her legs, taking extra time to suck the one that had been inside her. Staring at me in the rearview.
I put the van in park and asked Penny to go check the bulletin board on the door of the station, to be sure of the schedule. She complied willingly, scampering to the tiny ticket office, which was closed.
"I want to do it with you," Dolores said. "Penny said you won't, because you think I'm too young. She said you think I'm not big enough, that your dick is too big. Lots of boys say that and – "
"Forget it. And don't pull this on me again." I was half-turned toward her, trying to sound tough and glare at here. All I could see was the memory-image of her tensed and cumming.
"I tried to use a cucumber and it didn't fit," she continued. "But that was when I was twelve. And I don't think you're that big."
She leaned forward suddenly and put her hand on my crotch. The move was so unexpected and quick that I didn't catch her in time. Her small hand came right down on my hard cock. I grabbed her wrist and she grabbed my dick. I heard her little gasp of surprise and her fingers relaxed – after one quick, jerking squeeze that was almost enough to make me cum.
She sat back in her bucket seat. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hung open and her nipples were spikes under her tee-shirt. She had her hands between her legs and she was twisting them, rubbing herself through her shorts. "Please, let me do it, let me do it…"
She shook again. When she calmed, her eyes focused on me and she said, very clearly: "I'm going to have you before we go back to the city."
The distant warning hoot of the diesel sounded. Penny came running back to the van. "The train is coming!"
I smiled. "I'll be right out. Dolores, go wait with your sister."
She just smiled and got out of the van, somehow making it provocative.
I sat there a moment, pondering. She was sexy as hell and obviously knew what she was doing. What would be the harm? For one thing, I reminded myself, it was illegal. And thinking of what happened in prison to men convicted of rape – even statutory – of young girls, my boner began to shrivel. Unfortunately, my balls were starting to hurt.
I groaned and got out of the van. I stood next to the girls as the train rumbled and whined to a stop. There were a few other people there, waiting to meet the arrivals. Among the greeters were a trio of teenaged boys who were meticulously studying Dolores and Penny.
There was no problem recognizing Bonita and Irene. They were the two knockouts. Irene had grown up even lovelier than I'd remembered. And Kate hadn't been lying when she'd described Bonita.
"Hi, hi, hello – it's great to see you," I said quickly. Irene brightened the night with a glorious smile and Bonita grinned.
"Hi, uncle Dan!" She gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
Broing!
I covered by quickly taking both their bags. "Come on, let's get back to the house and unwind."
Penny and Dolores chattered happily with the two women as I stowed the bags. Penny volunteered to take one of the swivel buckets in the back of the van so she could look out the rear window. I put Dolores behind me and Bonita next to her, figuring her sister's proximity would keep the little vixen in check.
Which, of course, meant Irene sat next to me. Sheer chance, of course.
Broing!
Bonita and Irene wore similar outfits – old jeans and long-sleeved man-tailored flannel shirts against the cool eastern Long Island night. The shirts were tucked into the waists of the jeans, and man-tailored or not, they were well-filled. I glanced at Irene as I made a right, turning out of the parking lot. In profile, she was awesome. The fine, straight nose, the long lashes, the soft lips, the sandy hair pulled back in a ponytail – gorgeous. And the thrust of those proud breasts against the shirt was enough to make a groan man cry.
We exchanged miscellaneous pleasantries during the drive back. Irene was on a week-long break. She'd been on the London-Orlando run for five weeks and was due for reassignment. She was hoping for New YorkMadrid. She'd read my last piece – the Times magazine one about New York City's huge stock of empty, structurally sound housing left empty while poor folks slept in the streets – and liked it a lot.
Bonita and Dolores were thick as thieves behind us, whispering with great animation. For some reason, that made me very nervous. As we pulled into the drive, both giggled and I caught Bonita staring at me as if making some judgment.
When we got to the house, everybody was so busy with greetings that only Dolores – and, possibly, Penny – noted the guy with the flagpole in his pants. Dolores made a point of making me aware of her stare.
The others descended on the cold buffet Kate had assembled as I headed immediately into the bedroom to deposit the new arrivals' bags, then high-tailed it upstairs to my bedroom. I stripped, groaning at the relief of having my cock freed for a few minutes, and stepped quickly into my bathroom. I could hear an occasional lurch of group laughter from the main room downstairs. A cold, soaked wash cloth diminished my ardor to manageable levels. I pulled on a jock and my swimsuit, then ducked into a tee-shirt and padded downstairs barefoot.
Bonita and Irene had pulled the hems of their shirts out of their jeans and were sprawled on the banquette in the bay window. Each had a can of brew and a sandwich and some potato chips. Kate was sitting in one of the wicker reading chairs. She'd turned it to face the others and not the fireplace. She looked so completely unaffected, all aglow with pleasure at having her loved ones around, that I again envied Mark. Dolores was sitting on the raised brick skirt of the fireplace, knees tucked up to her chest and the oversized tee-shirt tugged down to her ankles, so it covered her legs, too. Penny sat Amerindian style on the throw rug in front of the fireplace.
They quieted as I approached. Girl talk. Uh-oh. They were all looking at me as I constructed one of my patented diet-killer sandwiches (slab of rye bread, dijon mustard, roast beef, slice of cheese, ham, slice of cheese, salami, slice of cheese, tomato, lettuce and another slab of rye, this one with Thousand Island dressing). I was passing up my usual slice of onion in hopes of a Close Encounter of the Irene Kind. Grabbed a bottle of Guinness stout. All the while, exchanging pleasant stupidities with the five of them. This is known as Small Talk.
"Where're you going, Mark?" Kate asked as I opened the screen door.
I flipped the switch for the outdoor lights with my elbow. "Going to sit out here and read and eat and smoke my nasty pipe and let you female-type people get on with the talk that went into Pause Mode when I came down."
Irene and Bonita erupted with laughter and I felt my ears redden for no tangible reason. Kate had one of her Cheshire cat smiles now and nodded as I left them. When I stepped into the pool enclosure, I activated the Thermonuclear Bug Whackers and settled back onto the chaise lounge. Back to my Spencer!
About sixty pages later, Penny came out and frumped down into the other chaise lounge. Her expression was annoyed.
"What's up, pretty girl?"
"Dolores is really pissed off at me."
I closed Spencer and reached for my pipe; time for a refill. "Give."
"Oh, Dolores said she was going to come out here for a swim. I whispered to Mom that she'd just be bugging you again and told her she'd been bothering you on the way to the station. So Mom told Dolores to stay with us. Dolores got pissed off and went into the bedroom and turned on MTV." Penny's evident disgust became more pronounced. "She hates MTV almost as much as I do. She did it just so I wouldn't go in there."
I, on the other hand, actually liked limited doses of MTV. Something was wrong with this picture. More importantly -
"What do you mean, she was bothering me on the way to the station?"
Penny rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Uncle Dan! Do you think I'm some stupid, naive little kid? Or do you think I'm blind? I saw what she was doing." She giggled with disarming suddenness. "And I know you saw it, too."
I very nearly sprained my thumb packing the pipe. "Oh?" It sounded forced and strangled even to my own ears.
"I saw how big and hard you got down there." Another giggle. "Are you going to – " She paused, squinting, searching for the proper expression. " – jerk off?"
I groaned. "Penny, I don't think this is a really good subject for our conversation."
Her expression became surprisingly hard. "One of the things I always liked about you was that you never treated me like a little kid. Until now. I know what the score is. With Mom and Dad going at it all the time and Dolores always in heat, how could I not know?"
"Well, then, uh, why bother asking?"
Suddenly, the Little Sophisticate was an uncertain kid again. She shifted around on the chaise and finally said, "Well, I just wondered, that's all."
I was lighting my pipe, stalling her into telling more.
"And, well, I just wondered if…"
"What?"
She shook her head rapidly. "Nothing. Never mind."
"I think you asked me just because you wanted to watch me squirm. And I feel bad that you wanted to make me uncomfortable. Are you happy now?"
Her shocked expression told me I was wrong. She stood abruptly and glared. "That's not true! I don't ever want you to be sorry I'm around!"
"Then why'd you ask me that question?"
"Because…I wanted you to let me watch you do it, okay? Are*you* happy now?" And she stalked off toward the gate.
She turned abruptly. "Oh. I am supposed to enquire whether it is permissible for Bonita and Irene to swim in the pool at night." Very formal and grown-up.
"You may inform the ladies that it is entirely permissible, provided there are at least two people present at any given time."
"Thank you."
"You are most welcome. Good night…"
She executed a sharp about-face and strode away.
"…shrimp."
Without looking back, she raised one arm over her head, Badfinger extended in the classic salute. But I saw her shoulders shake and knew she was laughing. Good. I returned to my Spencer. Hawk was on the case. The only question remaining in the last 20 pages was whether Susan Silverman was coming back to our hero.
I finished the pipe and the book at the same time (she did return). I gathered my detritus and headed toward the house. Now, what could I do to get Penny completely back to being my buddy? I glanced up at the stars. Orion's Belt twinkled at me. I waved back, saying thanks. I knew what to do.
MTV was belting out from the bedroom and Kate was absent. "She went up to bed," Bonita said in response to my quizzical expression. She and Irene were talking softly and quietly. Penny was in a reading chair and she was engaged in – oddly enough – reading. I looked over her shoulder. "Gravity's Rainbow." Sometimes that "kid" scared me. It took me two weeks to get through it and she was devouring it the way grownups ate up romance novels.
I put my dishes in the sink and went down to the basement. I exited the basement through the side door, then walked around to the side of the house, where the pool-enclosure lights were blocked. It didn't take long to set up the instrument, even in the dark; its fittings were familiar old friends. When I had it all aligned and ready, I went up onto the deck and cleared my throat at the screen door.
"Anyone here interested in taking a look at Jupiter's moons through a Questar telescope?"
Penny, slouching over her book, jerked upright in her seat, eyes wide. Her head swiveled slowly toward me. "A telescope?" she breathed.
"Yep."
I know her feet must have touched the floor somewhere between her chair and me, but I didn't observe it. I barely got the screen door open before she reached it. I'm still not sure she would have waited for it to open. "Jupiter's moons!" and she was dragging Uncle Dan into the darkness.
"Over here, where the pool lights don't reach," I said, aiming about 80 pounds of Penny in the right direction.
"Come on – hurry!" she demanded, pulling 210 pounds of Uncle Dan helplessly in her wake. This, I figured, had to be what the skipper of a luxury superliner like the QE2 experiences when a tug ties on to it.
"Wait, wait, wait," I said when we were in the shadows. I explained about night-sight and made her stand, fidgeting, with her eyes closed for the requisite 30 seconds. Then I showed her to the telescope and watched the fun. She had no trouble learning the fine controls so she could do her own tracking on her target.
She was grabbed by the eyeball, hunched over the instrument and immobile. Silhouetted in the night, I was struck with wonder at the intensity of her interest, the totality of her fascination. She was drinking in the night, sucking up the stars, and I doubted all the wonders of the universe could sate her hunger. In this, she was no different than any healthy kid. I thought of that most pitiful of creatures – the school teacher who's been ground into apathy by underfunding, disconnected parents, lack of community support and respect and generally shitty conditions. I was filled with a flare of rage at the unbelievable, wasteful stupidity of a society that allows anyone who voluntarily chose to teach the Pennys of the world to be forcibly jaded to the glorious miracle of that thirsty young mind. The fury burned so brightly that I wondered if I could glow in the dark, and I forced myself to be calm, tried to think of something else, to quench the anger or at least bank it as coals.
I heard a distant splash. Ahhh, yes, the lovelies and their midnight swim. I was about to excuse myself for a little recreational ogling when Penny asked if we could see Saturn. Well, no, since Saturn wasn't up. But Mars was and I sighted for her.
Then I made my break.
Big as I am, I walk very quietly. I don't like to disturb the other tenants on the land, the four-legged ones. So it was an accident. I intended to just walk through the gate of the pool enclosure and stand there in the light and try to chat up the young women – primarily, Irene. And wax my eyeballs on the sight of them in their swimsuits.
As it happens, at six-foot-five, I can see over the wooden fencing pretty easily long before I get to the gate. And they didn't hear me coming.
They were standing in the shallow end, in waist-deep water, facing each other. Irene was just undoing the knot in the single strip of fabric holding up the top of Bonita's maillot. The water held it to her breasts, and then Irene peeled it down. Her lips were tracing the line of exposure.
Broing!