It was a lovely morning. But, then, it was always a lovely morning in San Diego. A Mr. Branson, retired, henpecked, was out tending his garden bright and early. His wife was pleased with his sudden interest in gardening. Actually, old Branson didn't care a hang about flowers or lawns, they were all weeds to him. What he did care about and why he was out in the garden bright and early every morning was for the pleasure and excitement of seeing their neighbor, young Gail Hanover, walk out of her house and down to the mailbox and then back up the path again.
On what Branson called "good days" she would open the mail then walk slowly back up the path to the house. The slower, the better, for Branson's interests. This particular morning, he positioned himself in a corner of the yard, crouching over a bed of marigolds and pretending to dig while his eyes looked through his bushy eyebrows and he waited.
And Gail was well worth the waiting. Yesterday, she had come down to the mailbox dressed in a lounging gown and old Branson had gritted his teeth against his anger at being disappointed then almost fell in a bed of tulips as, while she was opening the mail, her gown fell open and he saw one leg up to the hip bone. It was an indelible image he would savor late at night while lying next to his snoring wife. She was wearing high heels under the gown and her leg showed itself off beautifully with slim tapered ankles curving out into well-rounded calves. Then – and every time Branson thought of it, his mouth went dry – a thigh. Not just any thigh, but full, voluptuous thighs that seemed to swoop out in pure white firmness. And all she was wearing was a rose-red bikini panty!
Branson had to close his eyes when he thought of how the panties stretched tight across her hips, revealing the soft bulge of one pelvic bone and the way the material caught tight and was tense at the V of her crotch.
It was only for a split second, but old Branson had seen it and found himself shaking. "By God, if I were only twenty years younger!" he had muttered.
The postman had delivered the mail, turned the flag up and Branson was in position. His only regret was the fact that he couldn't get closer.
Gail Hanover came out of the house. She had risen early, determined to clean. It was such a bright and sunny day, she saw no reason for wearing a lot of clothes. A pair of shorts and one of Rod's old white shirts pulled and knotted around her slim waist seemed enough. She came from the house barefoot and old Branson crouched like some old satyr and peered through his white picket fence.
Gail came down the path tossing her hair. It was beautiful jet-black hair and contrasted sharply with her pale blue eyes. The tights were old and rose high on her hips, almost revealing her hip bones. A pair of hip huggers she had cut off, they slung low, revealing her navel which Branson saw with rippling flesh. The V of the huggers fit tight over her crotch. Gail enjoyed the slight pressure and excitement they afforded her and walked in a hip undulating fashion to heighten the sensation.
Old Branson fell to one knee as he craned forward, his now sweating face no more than three inches from the fence as he saw her bending to open the mailbox. My God! he thought, that young chippie isn't wearing a bra!
It was true. Her ample breasts seemed to shift under her husband's shirt and the nipples made little reverse indentations on the cotton, sticking out in a provocative way.
Branson quickly swiped at his upper lip, removing perspiration. Gail was a lovely thing to look at: slim, big breasted, long legs, thick hair and a lovely face with a small nose, almost snub-nosed, and a large, sensuous mouth. She looked just like the girls he saw in Playboy magazine whenever he went down to the drugstore to get prescriptions filled. She was better than anything he had ever seen in a magazine. She was real! And she was across the street, tearing open a letter and practically naked.
As he watched, she read a letter hastily, a smile coming over her face. Then, in a spontaneous movement, she jumped up and down with glee, her breasts shaking and quivering.
To his disappointment, she turned to run to her house. Then, his luck holding, she dropped a letter and bent over, her back to him, and picked it up. For one moment of glorious agony, Branson saw her hips and buttocks fan out and her shorts ride high up and be caught in the deep crevice between her legs. She straightened and walked on to the house, the two smooth, undulating cheeks of her buttocks in plain sight bouncing up and down.
If it had been any other day and any other letter, Gail might have heard a moan from the yard across the way and looked to see what was happening. But, not today. She held in her hand THE letter. Everybody gets at least one letter in their life which they can deem important. They can look back to that time and say, "My life changed that day."
So it was for Gail. She ran into the house excited, not knowing what she was going to do or if there was anything she should do.
She stood in their living room and laughed softly. She read the letter again, taking in every word. It was so very brief.
DARLING, LEAVING THIS HELLHOLE IN ONE WEEK AND FLYING BACK HOME TO YOU. LOVE, ROD.
Airmailed and postmarked two days ago. A quick calculation told her he might be home by next weekend. Gail felt good, better than she had felt in weeks. If old Branson hadn't been so interested in her body and his own frustrated thoughts, he would have noticed that Gail wasn't a happy girl; that she was, in fact, a deeply troubled human being. If horny old Branson had looked closely, he would have seen the telltale signs of much drinking the night before.
Rod had been in Vietnam a year and she had lived alone, having few friends and occasionally working for the Kelly Girls, taking office jobs when they seemed suitable and the mood hit her. Most of her friends were the wives of servicemen, like herself, waiting for their men to come home.
Then Lee, her younger brother came to visit her and stay. Although a warm day, Gail shivered, thinking about him and his visit. At home, when they were growing up, Lee, one year younger, had always been a wild one, getting into all sorts of trouble. At first, it had been dismissed as "coltish behavior", and "sowing his wild oats". Later, it had gotten more serious: drinking escapades and stories of wild parties. Lee ran with a crowd that was considered disreputable and Gail had nothing to do with them. One night Lee had come home drunk and surprised Gail as she lay in bed reading a book. He had attacked her. The word "attack" was never really mentioned and the whole thing was smoothed over as a joke. Lee being so drunk he "didn't know where he was." At least that is what Gail's mother had said. Her mother had a special attachment to Lee that Gail used to wonder about. Near forty, her mother was still a fine looking woman.
When Rod came along, the whole world changed and it wasn't long before they were married and moved to San Diego. And then Gail's mother wrote to say that Lee was coming out to see her right after school let out. Lee was attending an eastern college. In his first year, he had been almost kicked out. Several students had been arrested in an apartment off campus. Seems a sex party had been going on and one girl claimed that she had been raped.
And Lee had come to visit Gail.
Despite his sardonic and unpredictable ways, Gail loved her brother. His aggressiveness and his sharp tongue didn't bother her; she thought, that with time, he would change. When he first came, she had been struck by how different they were. She was to learn, to her horror and shame, how very much alike they were in at least one way.
He had showed up one morning in front of her house, a sleeping bag on his back, his hair too long and unkempt, his lips twisted in that old grin. "Hiya. Man, you're something else."
After she had fed him and he talked of their parents, she sat down across the table from him and looked at him carefully. He had grown, he was no longer just her little brother, he was a man. And that same mischievous look was on his face. Only, now, there was something more there. The impish quality had become hard, there was a glitter and gleam to his eye that disturbed her. What was it? It seemed to her they were shrewd eyes old beyond belief. There was a cynical edge to his voice, a strange dry quality that told you there was little that he hadn't done.
Standing with Rod's scrawled hasty letter in her hand, Gail shivered again. She slumped into a chair and stared off. What was she going to do? How could she tell Rod? What would happen, how would she feel when Rod was finally in front of her took her in his arms? How would she respond? Would it be the same as before?
Or, would she, in some unpredictable way, give herself away? How would she act in the throes of passion?
Her depression came back and she felt the need of a drink. Just one, she told herself, then put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. She had to face this thing, she had to think it out. More than anything, she had to resolve it in her own mind.
She had been always told and felt it was true that she was a person of character. Setting her jaw, she carefully folded Rod's letter and put it away in the desk with all of his letters that she had kept. She could not resist sitting and rereading some of them, tears brimming in her eyes. She loved Rod and he was the only man ever to have her… until Lee, her brother, came to visit.
She couldn't stand it any longer. She slammed the desk drawer shut then swiveled to the kitchen where she poured a drink of scotch into a glass and sat down at the kitchen table. I don't care if it's morning and this is a stupid thing to do. I want to think, she told herself.
She swallowed the scotch and made a face, feeling it burn down and hit her empty stomach. Hastily, she made some instant coffee and poured the rest of the scotch in the cup and sat down to sip and think.
One of the wonders of the human mind is its adaptability. Gail had not once allowed herself to think of what happened with Lee since he had gone. While it was happening and while he was staying with her, she could think of nothing else. When he left, something in her brain shut off. An instinct told her she needed time to think, to recover. She became busy with hundreds of chores. She visited girl friends and baby sat. She went alone to movies and when she had seen them all, when there was nothing to do or no one to see, when it was night and she was alone with only the TV playing endlessly, she drank. She drank heavily and many mornings awoke to find herself still on the couch, clothed, with the television hissing a pale blue screen in the corner. Her head would ache and her stomach was sour and she took long showers and plenty of aspirin.
And she dreaded becoming a secret drinker, a furtive alcoholic.
She would sit for hours, smoking, drinking, longing for Rod and wanting so much to talk with him. Then, thinking of what happened, she dreaded the idea of Rod coming back to her; she was not the same person he had left.
She sipped steadily on her coffee and inhaled the fumes of the scotch and willed herself to think of what had happened and try to understand it and the way that she felt.
Lee, restless the first night, insisted they go out. He had money and wanted to see the town. They had gone out for drinks and dinner and Lee had grown funnier and more charming as the night went on. Driving in the car, Gail had said, "Where to now?"
"Nirvana, babe."
"Huh?"
"A little action."
"Gee, I don't know. I don't go out much now that Rod's away. I've been out of it. How about a movie?"
Lee slumped down in his seat and made a face. "How about a taffy pull or a night class in wax casting? Come on, babe, you can do better than that."
Gail smiled at her brother who looked so bored. "Okay, what do you want to do?"
"A nightclub. One of those topless-bottomless joints. A real sleazy dive with lots of broads around and guys trying to make time."
Gail raised her eyebrows. "Somehow I don't think I'm the person to ask about that. Besides, you're only nineteen. You couldn't get in."
Lee pointed a finger at her and made a popping sound with his mouth. "I gotta phoney I.D."
"Isn't that against the law?"
"Sure, if you're dumb enough to get caught. Look, who's going to say my I.D. is phoney? I left my real one back at your place. Where's a strip joint?"
"I don't know if I should go to such a place?"
"Ever seen one?"
"No."
"Then don't knock it if you don't know about it. Aren't you at all curious?"
Gail smiled despite herself. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts. In fact, she was very curious in what really went on in what she and Rod called "the topless pits". Since Rod had been in Vietnam, she had abstained from sex, feeling a great yearning and loneliness yet feeling that it was all worth it. When her man came home, he would come to her bed and it all would be just beautiful. Now, Lee had tickled her curiosity and she felt this was a perfect time to satisfy it: she couldn't go with girl friends because it would look funny, like they were trying to "get picked up". She certainly couldn't go with another man and square it with her conscience. But she could go with Lee. He was not just another man, he was her brother. She could, when in a teasing mood, tell Rod she had been in a topless bar and feel no guilt, because Lee had been along.
The delicious sense of doing something wrong, a child-like fit of giggles came over her. "I know where a lot of those places are."
"Take me there, you improper bitch!" Lee said, clowning and waving an arm.
They were in a gay mood full of nonsense when they entered a club, THE PUSSYCAT PARLOR. Gail found herself, once inside, in pitch blackness. She blinked and held her hand out. Lee, thoroughly accustomed to such dark, led her along through the tables. There was a bright stage light at the far end of the dark bar and Gail knew that would be where the "action" was. She didn't look at it; half out of excitement and half out of her footing as they weaved toward the light.
They were seated at a ringside table by a girl in a lowcut blouse showing plenty of cleavage. When Gail sat down she saw that the girl was wearing black tights and panties that were cut so as to ride high up on her hip. The girl smiled invitingly at Lee and took their order. Music was blaring from a jukebox and Gail caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A girl, young, attractive, with long hair and an Indian headband across her forehead, mounted the stage. She was dressed in a simple miniskirt and she smiled down at them, her body already beginning to sway and move to the rock beat.
Very simply, with a smile that was relaxed and a little lewd, she pulled the dress up over her head and Gail gasped. The girl was naked, save for her sandals and headband!
Gail knew she had a good body, but this girl was really good. She was tall, willowy, with a long waist and full firm hips. Her long tapering thighs came down to dimpled knees and long calves ending in incredibly thin ankles. Her breasts were high and huge and jutting out, away from each other and ended in taut nipples like two dark bullets. Her stomach was flat and her buttocks, seen in the mirrors behind her were two full smooth cheeks with a deep crevice dividing them.
Gail's astonished eyes took her all in and finally centered, hopelessly fascinated, by the V of soft curling pubic hair that formed where her deep thighs met her torso. Her mound of Venus jutted out ever so enticingly, only to serve notice as to the hidden delights of the warm inviting vagina hidden up between her thighs.
Hands on her hips, the girl gyrated in time to the building music, looking down at Lee and Gail and slowly licking her lips as her hips rotated. As the music grew wilder, the girl began shaking her shoulders, making her breasts quiver in a lascivious way and her hands slid down to cup around her groin, to feel the air as if she were caressing an invisible penis and to jut her hips out in a lewd invitation. Gail's mouth fell open as she looked up at the girl dancing and saw the swelling lips of her vagina beginning to ever-so-slightly part as she danced on.
My God, Gail thought, she's getting herself really aroused!
She had never seen a woman do this before in private, let alone in public. The music became more frantic, louder, and the girl became more abandoned in her dancing, doing deep bends and leaning over and wiggling her buttocks invitingly, her breasts moving in a tantalizing way. It dawned on Gail that the girl was actually dancing a sex act – the woman's half of the sex act – right in front of everyone. The music grew wilder and the girl's hair lashed around as she threw her head back and spread her legs, a look of ecstasy on her face as her hips undulated and she spread her legs wider and Gail could clearly see the narrow glistening slit of her naked cunt.
Everyone could see. Gail's head was going around as she watched, not even conscious that their drinks had been served and that she was gulping at it. Her heart was pounding and every nerve in her body, so long quiet, was now hammering at her being. The natural thought came into her mind: what must it be like to do that?
And the answer, with a force and fury that amazed her, told her it would be exciting. The girl in front of them, totally naked, her eyes half closed, her mouth open and her lips wet, her body writhing, moving sensuously to the wild music, was obviously enjoying every minute of it.
The music stopped and the girl forced herself to stop too. She pulled her dress on, breathing hard, looking down at Lee with a strange searching look on her face. Gail looked at him and saw that lopsided little enigmatic grin on his face. Still looking at him, the girl slipped off behind a partition.
"Wow, she was all right. You like that? You sure know how to pick the places, babe," Lee said, flicking his fingers to order another round of drinks.
Gail put one hand to her face, shielding it from the rest of the bar. "I've never seen anything like that before in my whole life. I never dreamed! She didn't have anything on!"
"That's right. Groovy. Nothing like getting down to the old nitty-gritty."
"Is that legal? I mean, supposing the police raid this place?"
Lee's expression of disgust came again. "Sister, I gotta say this. You are square. Don't you know what's been happening? Where have you been since you left home? The law can't do a thing. Their hands are tied. It had something to do with the Supreme Court. They can't touch an operation like this. It's art, baby!"
They were served their drinks and Gail gulped again. She was still astounded and excited. She felt the urge to squirm against the hot throbbing and moistness she felt down between her legs. The sheer brazen audacity of it all numbed her except for a strangely rising sexual response that she couldn't control.
And her younger brother, sitting across from her with that inscrutable sardonic smile, watching her with those cold attentive eyes. Lee, so wild and unpredictable, so young and so handsome. Lee, toying with his drink and grinning. "Let's go home."
Gail caught her breath and looked around. "We just got here."
"I wanna go. I wanna talk to you."
The tone of his voice had sent a warning bell ringing in her mind. But the alcohol, the dancing girl, her own thwarted desire over-rode the sound. He was after all, her brother. "Okay."
In the car again, they drove saying little, Gail driving with Lee staring moodily out the passenger side window. Back in the apartment, Lee sprawled on the couch and looked up at his sister, that ironic smile coming back. "What do you like?"
Gail was genuinely puzzled. "What do I like?"
"Yeah, what turns you on in bed? What kind of sex do you like?"
Gail was visibly jarred by the question and she had skipped a beat before laughing and saying, with a wave of the hand, "Oh, lots of things. Want a drink?"
Lee got up. "No, I got something better." He went to the closet and got out his sleeping bag. Not looking at her, he asked, "Ever make it with more than one guy? Ever try a threesome?"
Gail felt her body tingle. "What?"
Lee appeared a bit weary. "Ever ball two guys at the same time?"
Gail again visibly reacted as the image of Rod, herself, and a faceless man whipped into her mind. It was so exciting and depraved, she couldn't allow herself to think about it. "I… I don't think that's any of your business," she said, turning to the bar Rod had built before leaving and pouring herself a drink.
"Okay," Lee said, ambling back to the couch with some cigarette papers in his hand and a little pouch dangling from one finger.
"What's that?" Gail asked, her voice full of suspicion.
"Grass," Lee said casually.
Gail set her drink down firmly on the bar. "No," she said in a firm tight voice. All of a sudden, she was feeling a dislike for her brother.
Lee grinned at her as he measured out the green dried weeds. "Come on. Mean to say you've never tried it?"
"No." Gail stood in front of him. "Lee, I won't have that kind of stuff in my house."
"Huh?"
"I mean it and I'm ashamed of you, doing a thing like that. Shame on you."
Lee looked at her for a minute before bursting out in incredulous laughter. "You really mean it. You're not putting me on? You really mean it, this is no put-on?"
"Yes."
"Well that sure puts a tail on the dog. You've never tried this?"
"No, and I don't want to."
"Rod has."
Again, his calmness, his laughing face, and his ability to change pace threw her. "How do you know?"
Again, Lee laughed. "Hell, he's in Vietnam."
Gail's face clouded. It was true, there had been articles in the papers about pot smoking among the troops. "You're only guessing," she said defiantly.
He shook his head. "I know Rod."
"That's no reason for me to try it," she said, walking back to her drink.
"There's every reason in the world for you to try it."
Again, Gail was puzzled by her brother. "What do you mean by that?"
Now, looking back, Gail could see that was the wrong question to ask. Had she insisted he get rid of the stuff, the ensuing argument might never have happened and the whole evening might have been different.
Lee had answered her question, had talked long about "grass" and had played on her doubts and fears, gradually boxing her in until Gail, feeling she was insane, feeling that she was doing something sinful and depraved, agreed to take "just one puff". She did it, holding her breath as long as she could, then exhaled. "I don't feel a thing."
Lee had smiled secretly. "Wait," was all he would say.
Having taken one puff and felt nothing, it didn't seem so terribly dangerous to take another. And a third. Fourth. She took so many puffs, she lost track of how many drags she had. In fact, she seemed to have lost track of time itself. There was so much she suddenly couldn't account for. They were sitting on the floor with drinks in front of them and music was playing on the radio and had been playing for a long time. She was smoking a cigarette and watching, with a glazed absorption, the thick gray smoke curling up in the air. It seemed that she had been watching the smoke all night.
"I have."
Lee's quiet voice made her jump. She tried to focus on him. "What?" she asked, her voice thick and slurring.
"I've balled two chicks at the same time."
"What?" Gail said stupidly, feeling a wave of lewd curiosity come over her.
"Yeah," Lee went on, smiling. "Two girls. Met them in a commune I visited and they liked that sort of thing."
"Really? That's terrible," Gail said with a little giggle.
"What are you laughing for if it's terrible?"
"I don't know. I feel so… funny."
"Yeah." Leaning over, he began stroking the back of her arm. Despite herself, she let him do it. It felt so good, sending a tingling sensation all through her body.
"What did you do?" She couldn't help asking the question as she bit her lip in anticipation.
Lee kept on stroking her arm, running his fingers up to her shoulder. "I balled them. We fucked."
The word "fucked", hung in the air and Gail felt an involuntary tingle down between her legs as she heard the word. Her legs were crossed and she wondered hazily if he could see up her dress to her panties.
Looking down at her drink, she asked, "And… what did… they, the girls, do?"
"They took turns fucking me and then went down on each other while I watched." His other hand began stroking one of her knees, pushing her skirt back.
Gail's heart was pounding and her mouth was dry. Her mind was imagining what it must have been like and paying no attention to what his hands were doing. Besides, it felt good, exciting her and making the idea of her own brother in bed with two women all the more exciting. It was wrong, it was evil, it was depraved, it was carnal, yet it was exciting. She had looked at her brother full of dazed, drugged wonder. He had actually done such a thing! It was unbelievable. "You're making all this up."
Thinking back, reliving every moment of the night with her brother, Gail put her head in her hands and wanted to cry. If only she had gotten up at that point, or at least forced his hands away, it might have been different.
Yet, now, she knew it would have been the same. Details might have changed, but the end result would be the same. Lee had wanted it to happen and, now, only now, could Gail, full of despair, admit that she too had wanted it to happen.