A Haunting Love

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

Chapter Seven

Debbie's natural curiosity was made more firm by her unwillingness to accept that her mother had lied to her. Debbie had never lied to her mother. Other than the fact, of course, that Debbie and Robby had played at the Nettleton Manor for years, and that they were sexually involved with each other were big secrets. But those were lies of omission and the only secrets Debbie had from her mother. She couldn't understand how her mother could be this other woman, and that Debbie had never been able to see even a glimpse of that woman.

"Mom?" began Debbie tentatively.'

"Hmmmm?" responded Ramona, her mind still on what had just happened.

"Tell me about your boyfriends," said Debbie.

Ramona turned and looked at her daughter. "Whatever do you mean? I don't have any boyfriends."

Debbie pushed the fresh sprout of her anger down and tried to be patient. "I mean when you were my age," she clarified.

Ramona knew her daughter well enough to see that she was uncomfortable ... distant somehow. They had always been loving and close. Was Debbie interested in a boy? That might explain her behavior recently ... her fits of anger. And, even though Debbie's recent outbursts had seemed to be tied to the Nettleton mansion, Ramona knew that ... hormones ... could intrude into life in the most unlikely ways.

"Are you interested in a boy?" she asked her daughter.

Debbie's first instinct was to deny that with a laugh. There were boys who interested her, but not as boyfriend material. She wasn't driven by hormones to seek males. She was quite satisfied with what she and her brother did in that way. But still, boys were ... interesting. And if saying she was interested in a boy would get her mother talking, then fine.

"Sort of," she said vaguely. "I've never had a real boyfriend."

Ramona sighed. Life at this stage of growing up was so hard. She hated the thought of her daughter going through what she had gone through as a girl. But she knew it had to happen. She hoped it didn't have to happen in quite the same way it had to her. It never occurred to her that her son and daughter might have the same kind of relationship she had had with her brother. That relationship had been born of the kind of pain and loneliness that her children had never had to face.

"Well, sweetheart, I'm not sure I'll be much help to you. I didn't have many boyfriends until I met your father," she said.

"Tell me about them," urged Debbie.

Ramona sat down at the table, where her unfinished plate of food still sat. She took a sip of her tea, but left the food alone.

"Golly," she said, her eyes going unfocused. "There isn't all that much to tell. There was a boy named George, when I was twelve. He was nice to me and I kind of thought of him as a boyfriend. We couldn't date or anything like that, of course."

"How about when you were older ... my age?" asked Debbie.

Ramona didn't know how to answer that question. Her "boyfriend" then had been Robert. Her guardian hadn't allowed her to date, and boys didn't come to visit at the house where the waifs lived. There had been boys who showed interest in her, but the whispers of girls her age told her that all they wanted was what she and Robert did in the dark of night, and she wasn't interested in doing that with anyone except Robert. What she had with her brother was precious and special.

But she couldn't tell her daughter about that!

"I guess I didn't really have a boyfriend until I went to college and met your father," she said.

The anger swelled again in the pit of Debbie's gut. Another lie.

"No other boy kissed you until you met Daddy?" she asked, her voice tight.

There was a slippery slope here for Ramona. Another boy had kissed her, and done a lot more than that before she met Richard. But that boy was Robert, and she couldn't tell her daughter about that. She avoided the question by asking one of her own.

"Has a boy tried to kiss you?"

"You didn't answer my question Mom," continued Debbie. "Why won't you answer my question?"

Ramona's reaction to her daughter's interrogation was one of fear. Had someone in the community been telling her children stories of Ramona's past? There were still a few people around who had lived in Nettleton and might have known Ramona when she was a ward. She hadn't worried about them because she had tried to be so invisible before she went to college. And, when she came back to Nettleton with a husband and a baby in her womb, she had thought people would forget her past. Only the oldest people in town might remember that she was the sad little Nettleton girl who changed her name. Was it possible that the renovation of the mansion had brought out old dusty memories ... and idle chatter about the past?

"Who have you been talking to?" she asked.

Now it was Debbie who had to be careful. Any information she divulged about what she now knew about her mother had to appear to have come from some source that couldn't be questioned.

"Nobody," she said tersely. "It's just that everybody has a boyfriend. Everybody has a first kiss. It's just how things happen. I just wanted to know what that was like for you."

Ramona thought about what kind of emotions Debbie might be feeling at her age. She didn't have a good frame of reference to think about that, because her own childhood had been anything but normal. Still, she knew how it felt to be in love ... to want a man's touch ... to want to do things with a man, even if that man had been her brother when she was Debbie's age.

"Sit down, Darling," she said, pointing to a chair.

Debbie hesitated, but then sat.

"Sweetheart, a girl at your age has feelings that are very strong sometimes. It's normal for her to be curious about boys and what it would be like to ... kiss them. That seems like a long time ago, when I felt those things. The mother in me wants to tell you not to kiss the boys. But I know that's not realistic. I guess what I really want you to understand is that it's tempting to do things with boys just because of feelings you have, but it's important not to go too far unless you have real love. Does that make sense?"

Debbie's reaction to that was mixed. What her mother was saying sounded like what any mother would say. But, knowing what her mother had just done, only an hour before, it had to mean that her mother ... loved ... mister Smith, and that didn't make any sense at all. A new thought bloomed in Debbie's mind. She didn't remember her father, because she had just been a toddler when he was killed. And, while she didn't remember any men in her home life, there had been a period of a few years when, if there was a man in the house, she might not have remembered it. Could mister Smith be a man her mother fell in love with after her father was killed?

In typical teenage fashion, instead of answering her mother's question, she blurted out her own.

"Mom, did you have a boyfriend after Daddy died?"

Ramona stared at her daughter. This was a conversation that seemed ... odd somehow. Her parental radar began to have blips on the screen that were disturbing.

"No, Darling," she said. She strained to find the right words. "Things were very difficult for me when your father died. I wasn't ... well. It took a long time to get as back to being normal as I could. I didn't feel that ... seeking male companionship ... was something that would make my life ... our lives ... better."

Ramona saw something like disappointment cross her daughter's face. This was very odd. On impulse she spoke.

"Debbie, why are you asking me all these questions. Do you have a boyfriend? Has he tried to do something that makes you uncomfortable? What's going on?"

Their roles had been somewhat reversed. Initially, Debbie had thought she might pry some information out of her mother that would answer some questions about the man next door. If he was an old boyfriend, what she and her brother had seen would make a lot more sense. Now, however, she heard that tone in her mother's voice that meant she was the one being interrogated, and that her mother wanted to pry information out of her.

Still, other than the fact that her mother did not seem to want to confess to what had gone on in the past with mister Smith ... what was still going on with him ... her mother's responses had been what Debbie would have expected ... caring responses that any loving mother might have given. The questions Debbie wanted answers to concerned mister Smith. Something in Debbie had begun to recognize that her and her brother's childhood play-place was gone now, never to return. Now this unbelievable relationship her mother had with Smith had pushed itself into her uppermost mind. She itched to make sense of it, and she took the risk of further questions.

"It's just that you seem so interested in mister Smith," she hazarded. "I mean what with him being a stranger and all, and I know about the bank and all that stuff, but it just seems like ... I don't know ... like you look at him sort of like I look at boys at school."

Debbie held her breath, waiting to see what her mother would say ... or do.

It was a pivotal point in the relationship between mother and daughter. At this point, Debbie knew her mother had lied to her at least twice, and that was something she couldn't understand. She also knew that her mother must love this stranger from somewhere in her past that she wasn't willing to talk about, and she couldn't understand that either. Had her mother laughed, or pshawed the idea that Smith might mean something to her, it might have created a rift between mother and daughter that could have lasted a lifetime.

But Ramona didn't laugh. She was seized by feelings of fear of her daughter finding out secrets that were better off left buried. At the same time she had to acknowledge that her daughter's instincts about this were astonishingly accurate, considering her age. Had she known that her children had spied on her, everything would have been different. She harbored some kind of insane hope in her heart that she and Robert might be able, somehow, to recapture the happiness of their youth together, now that he was back. She felt no guilt about what they had done since his return, but she was fully aware of the pitfalls involved in that forbidden relationship. If she could just tell her children who he was, they would simply assume that the ... feelings ... they saw, and which Debbie had just voiced seeing, were only the natural love of sister for brother.

But could she trust them to be discreet? Robert still had things to do before he took off his disguise in public, or at least until he appeared publicly as Robert Ellsworth Nettleton. Ramona was wracked with doubt. But she saw real questions in her daughter's eyes, and that was important too.

Now it was Ramona who took a risk.

"Sweetheart, there are things about mister Smith you don't know."

Ramona saw light bloom in her daughter's eyes, an obvious interest that shouted that this was something Debbie wanted very badly to know about. Debbie unconsciously leaned forward, toward her mother.

"But ... I can't tell you everything just yet."

The light dimmed in Debbie's eyes, and Ramona saw that too. She went on hurriedly.

"It's not because I don't want to tell you. It's complicated. There are legal issues over at the mansion and, until those are resolved, it's very important that no one learn some things about him that could cause him problems."

Debbie clutched at the little part of the secret that her mother had shared.

"Okay, I understand that, but why would you be interested in him? As a man, I mean?" Debbie pushed her luck even further. "It's like you knew him in the past or something."

Ramona became wary. "Is this what all those questions about boyfriends were all about?" she asked shrewdly.

Debbie's eyes widened. Her mother was pretty sharp. "Well ... yeah ... I guess so ... sort of."

Ramona didn't know what to say. She knew if she just put her daughter off that it wouldn't work. That much was obvious from her previous behavior.

"Let me say this. I already told you I knew him in the past. And, when I knew him then I liked him. He didn't have that beard then. But he's not my boyfriend." Ramona looked at her daughter to gauge the response.

Debbie was now confused. Her mother obviously liked mister Smith a lot more than she was admitting to. But what confused Debbie was her mother's unwillingness to admit that. She got an idea.

"Is he married or something?" she asked.

Ramona shook her head. "No, he's not married. But people would be ... upset if they thought we were as close as a boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Why?" asked Debbie.

"That's something I can't talk about," said Ramona, unable to come up with anything else. "You'll understand in a few weeks. I promise you that. You'll understand everything in a few weeks. Okay?"

Debbie's curiosity had been both soothed, to a tiny degree, and inflamed, to a large degree. She couldn't imagine why her mother had to wait to tell her just who this man really was. But she knew she'd gotten as much out of her mother as was likely, so she nodded. Then she felt compelled, for some reason, to hug her mother. She got up and bent over to embrace her.

"I love you Mommy," she said into her mother's hair.

Ramona felt a stab of emotion. "I love you too baby. I really do. And someday you'll understand all of this and it will be okay. I promise everything will be okay," she murmured.

That did, in fact, reassure Debbie, but she went to talk to Robby about things anyway. She didn't have much to give him, but it was more than she'd had an hour ago.

Robby listened carefully to what his sister told him.

"She admitted she liked him, a long time ago?" he asked.

"Well, she didn't say it was a long time ago. She just said she liked him, but he wasn't her boyfriend. But it had to be a long time ago, because otherwise we'd know him too ... wouldn't we?"

"Yeah, that makes sense," said her brother. "And she said he couldn't be her ... boyfriend?" That word just seemed too strange to use in the same sentence as his mother.

"She said he can't be her boyfriend, because people wouldn't like it," said Debbie. "Why wouldn't people let her choose whoever she wanted for her boyfriend?" she mused.

"It has to be something to do with the manor," decided Robby. "But how can we find out what it is?"

Debbie thought and then straightened up.

"The library!" she said excitedly. "Doesn't the library have old records and newspapers and stuff like that?"

And so it was decided. The kids would journey to the town library the next day, while their mother worked ... or visited Smith again.

Ramona worried about the conversation with her daughter. Had she said too much? Should she have said more? But the next morning, when her children acted completely normal towards her, laughing and talking about going swimming, she felt better.

She might have felt differently if she'd known what they were really going to do.

They waited until she was gone and then started to get ready to go. Debbie, thinking about her mother, and what she'd seen, suddenly felt that itch between her legs that meant it was time to visit the manor. Except they couldn't do that any more. She remembered the day before, as they lay clutched on the very bed she was sitting on, and her nipples tingled. She got up to go see her brother.

Robby was standing in his underwear, trying to decide on whether to wear shorts or jeans when his sister walked into the room, her blouse unbuttoned. She pulled it open to display her naked, bobbing breasts.

"Little Debbie has a treat for you," she announced, taking the blouse off.

Uncharacteristically, Robby, the male in the relationship, the one reputed to have no self control, chastised her.

"Debbie, we have things to do!"

"We can afford ten minutes," she said, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. "Come on, don't you want just a little taste?"

She knew how to get his juices flowing and watched with glee as the front of his briefs began to fill up and bulge.

"Of course you do," she teased, bending over to slide her shorts down and step out of them. She slid one hand from her breast into her panties and pressed her clit.

"Hey!" he said. "Isn't that my job?"

"I thought you wanted to go dig through musty old books," she kept teasing. "Besides, I did just fine all by myself for years before you got involved."

Robby knew how to tease too. He picked up his shorts and put a leg through them.

"Okay, I'll be at the library whenever you get finished." He pulled the shorts up and buttoned the waist.

"Robbeeeeeeee," she whined. "Don't be mean to meeeeee," she said as she dug her finger up into her pussy.

"You started it," he grinned.

But he unbuttoned and dropped his pants. Her pursuit of him gave him a feeling of power and he pulled his briefs off to stand, hands on hips, his prick strong and straight, pointing at her. He went to his bed and lay down on it, looking at her.

Debbie made a show of sliding her panties down her thighs. She stood when they were at her knees, spreading her feet as widely as her strained panties allowed, and ruffled her blond fur, slicking her middle finger between her lips.

"I'm wet," she said, her voice husky.

"I know how to make you even wetter," said her brother, reaching for his cock and stroking it.

Debbie removed her panties, kicking them with one foot, making them sail toward her brother. They hit the side of the bed and dropped to the floor. She walked languidly over to the bed and leaned over to watch as her brother stroked himself. She loved watching that thin skin uncover and then cover back up the head of his prick.

"Let me," she said, reaching for it.

Robby let his hand drop and sighed as he felt her warm hand grasp him. She played with him, playing with his foreskin. A bubble of white oozed out of the slit in the tip and Debbie suddenly thought of her mother, on her knees in front of Smith, sucking. She had been ready to let Smith squirt in her mouth, but he had wanted to put - what was it he called it? - his seed ... yes his seed in her mother's pussy, where it could make a baby. She stared at her brother's ... seed.

Acting on impulse, she leaned lower and flicked her tongue out to swipe that bubble with the tip of her tongue.

She tasted. It didn't taste like much of anything. A tiny bit bitter, but sweet somehow too. Her impulse suggested copying what her mother had done. Having seen her mother, who was obviously enjoying what she had been doing, it didn't seem too strange any more.

Robby felt heat surround the head of his cock. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, except maybe when he rubbed between his sister's pussy lips with the tip. But this was all around the knob. He lifted his head and stared at his sister, sucking his cock.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck ... oh ... oh," he moaned.

The heat all around his prick head left, leaving cool air that didn't feel good at all. Her blond head came up.

"You like that?" she asked, licking her lips.

"Ohhh pleeease do it some more," he pleaded.

She happily went back to sucking, loving the feel of his smooth skin. She could play with that cute foreskin with her tongue and she did so, moving her lips to force it off the head and then licking it as it tried to cover him again. She tasted more of the bitter/sweet stuff and swallowed it, along with saliva that seemed to be pouring into her mouth. She took more of his cock into her mouth, feeling downward with her lips, feeling the head trying to go into the back of her throat. She gagged, and didn't like that feeling, so she pulled back to play with just the head. She liked that better.

Robby had lain rigid while she loved his prick. He wanted to shoot, but the thought of doing that with her mouth down there was something he was just sure she'd be mad at if he did it. But it felt too good.

"Deb, something's going to happen," he warned, his voice tight as he tried not to make a horrible mistake. "You need to stop now!"

She did, raising her head. "Is it going to squirt?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, that feels too good."

She stared at her brother's eyes. "You taste good," she said.

Then she let her face fall and took him in her mouth again.

For Robby, it was like somebody had slapped him ten or fifteen times. He closed his eyes tightly as his face went into a grimace and his mouth opened wide. He felt it deep in his balls ... an ache that could only be eased by one thing. Then, before he could take another breath his prick started spouting ribbons of thick cum.

Debbie knew what to expect only insofar as she had seen him squirt before, and helped clean up the spots where they had made a mess on the bed. But confining that to just her mouth was much more difficult than she thought it would be. She got two swallows in before her mouth overflowed and her brother's sperm began leaking from the corners of her mouth. She felt like she was going to choke and pulled her mouth off of him, taking one spurt right on where, if she were a male, she might have a moustache. She could have posed for a commercial that wouldn't be seen for thirty years, in which the tag line was "Got Milk?" Except, of course, for the fact that her "milk" was now dripping down across her lips and chin and beginning to drop in strings down to her breasts. She swallowed twice more, her mouth clearing at last, and her hands came up to catch the mess. In concentration it tasted different and she realized that she loved the taste. She began licking her hands, cleaning them like a kitten cleans its paws.

Robby just lay there dazed, his prick oozing more of the stuff that puddled in his hair to join what had leaked out of her mouth before she gave up.

"I can't believe you did that," he panted.

Debbie licked her palm and the heel of one hand, even though they looked clean by now. "That was fun," she said. "But I'm really horny now." She looked at her brother. "Would you do that ... for me?" she asked.

Robby thought about that. He'd seen Smith doing that to his mother, and she had obviously loved it. But it seemed ... gross. Still, she had done it for him, and if his mother loved it, then maybe Debbie would love it too. He would do it for her ... even if he didn't really want to.

He rolled to make room for her on the bed and she arranged herself like she had the previous day, opening herself wide for him. He got on his hands and knees and slowly let his face get closer to her sex as he looked closely at her pussy. He noticed things he'd never noticed before ... fine hairs sprouting above her clit. Her clit itself was enlarged and clearly visible. He looked at it closely and realized it looked something like the tip of his own cock, with a tiny foreskin and an even tinier prick head peeping out of that hood of skin.

He sniffed.

The guys at school had talked about fish smell, but she didn't smell anything like any fish he'd ever been around. Her scent was strong, but not bad. One time he'd sniffed her panties which she'd left in the hamper and this didn't smell anything like that had either. Her fingers appeared in front of his eyes, pulling her pussy lips open, showing him the dark cavern that they hid. He decided to touch the tip of his tongue to her clit first ... to see what the taste was like. He couldn't see, and he pressed his stiff tongue against the organ much harder than he had planned.

"Ah..UHU!" she grunted and her hips thrust up off the bed, smashing into his face.

Robby's face was wet with her juices. Her odor was all around him now, and his lips were wet. He licked them automatically and found a spicy pungent taste that wasn't anything like what he had expected.

She tasted good!

Robby thrust his mouth and nose into her pussy, this time intending to press hard. His tongue led the way, seeking that dark hole she had exposed, and finding it. He tried to stick his tongue into that hole as far as he could. Even if it was only an inch or a little more, her reaction was more than satisfactory. Her voice made a grating sound and she cried out, her hands gripping his hair painfully. The fact that they pulled turned what had sounded like pain into something that he knew she loved. She jerked her hips around so much that his face lost contact and bounced against the inside of one thigh.

Robby went to his elbows, sliding his hands under his sister's buttocks and then he made an "o" of his lips and aimed for her clit. When he felt his lips close around it, he sucked and pulled her up into his face so she couldn't wiggle loose. Her clit came farther into his mouth than he thought it would and he found he could nip it with his teeth. Knowing that it would hurt if he bit her too hard, he alternated with sucking hard, nipping with his teeth, and swabbing it with his tongue.

Debbie went crazy. She screamed and her arms and head flailed. She sat up and then flopped back down. Her voice sounded agonized, but with a tone that made it crystal clear she was not in agony. Her pussy provided so much juice as she came that his face made wet squelching sounds, like a foot in a shoe filled with water as someone walked in it.

Debbie finally lay limp, her multiple orgasms having robbed her of the strength to do anything except drag breath into her lungs. Her legs lay akimbo, her pussy lips swollen with blood as Robby finally pushed himself away from her. He was painfully hard and, as he sat on his heels, he stroked his prick, staring at the luscious pussy he could still taste on his lips. Debbie looked up at him through her lashes, anticipating what she knew he'd do. And, when he groaned and leaned forward, she mustered the strength to lift her pussy up to meet his cock as it began unloading his semen-packed balls. He only meant to splash her pussy lips with his goo. But, as a half ounce of his thick spunk rocketed out of his prick, the head kissed those lips and sealed. All that spunk shot right up into her pussy. The only thing that saved what was left of her virginity was that, feeling that warm bath inside her pussy, she went weak again, and dropped her buttocks back to the bed.

Then, as he collapsed on top of her, instead of his prick boring into her pussy, it lay at the gates and the rest of his spunk went where he'd intended it to go, soaking her pussy lips and mons as he continued to spurt.

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