Prick Van Winkle

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1-2 | 3-4 | 5-6 | 7-8 | 9-10 | 11-12 | 13-14 | 15-16 | 17-18
19-20 | 21-22 | 23-24 | 25-26 | 27-28 | 29-30 | 31-32 | 33-Epilogue

Chapter 19

When he got back to Betty's there was a note on the refrigerator saying she had gone over to Martha's to borrow something and would "be back soon." He thought back to a place they had driven by on the way home. It wasn't too far. He'd just walk up there and see what he could do about having his own car. He left Betty a note saying he'd gone on his own errand and might have a surprise for her when he got back.

The place he'd seen was the car lot in Circleton owned by "Rascal Rick", whose name was proudly displayed on a sign big enough to park a bus on, along with the emblazoned motto "Rascally Good Deals" in big red letters. Bob chose it because they sold Chevrolet's. In fact, he was met when he walked in by Rascal Rick himself. Rascal Rick looked the part. He had a big belly that hung out over his belt and made him look startlingly pregnant. His snow white handlebar moustache hung down clear past his chin and, with the white cowboy hat on his head, framed his rose tinted glasses. Rick used to chew tobacco, but it stained the tips of his facial hair, so he'd given that up and chewed gum now. He had a bulbous red nose that suggested, based on the tiny blue lines that seemed to criss cross it, that he knew good bourbon and rarely said no to an ounce or two ... or ten.

Rick was a hearty, friendly fellow, one of those back slapping, loud talking, draw-attention-to-himself sorts of guys. He was that way naturally, which was good, because he didn't make diddly on cars these days. All that crap that the Great State of California made them put on the cars he sold made them three or four thousand more to buy than in neighboring Nevada. You could breathe the air in California, which was good if you didn't have major moolah, because you were walking in all that fresh air on account of how you couldn't afford to buy a car. Besides, neither movie stars or wannabe movie stars bought Chevies.

No, in fact, if Rascally Rick made five or six hundred dollars clear on a new Chevy, he called that a good sale. If he got the buyer to finance it through any of his several financial partners, it was a great sale. That was because Rascally Rick got a kickback on each car that was financed with them because they made a killing by lending money to buy a new car. Take, for instance, the average $35,000 loaded mini van. With no money down, which sounded like a great deal, but wasn't, you could hop in your brand spanking new Rascally Rick minivan and drive away happily, knowing you could afford your payment. Of course nobody ever actually added it all up. If they had, at the end of those five years, which also sounded like a good deal, but wasn't, they'd have found out they actually paid closer to $43,000 for that car, which was worth, at the end of five years, about eight or ten thousand bucks, depending on how many miles were on it.

So the thousand dollars he got for every sucker he conned into financing a new car was actually more than he made on the car itself.

Rascally Rick was, in fact a rascal. He'd most lately figured out that, if you got a down payment of a couple grand, and then sort of forgot to actually add that into the calculations mathematically, most people just didn't notice. You had a line on the finance paperwork that clearly said "Down Payment : $3,000.00" But that three big ones wasn't actually deducted anywhere from the price of the car. If there were factory rebates in the deal, that messed up the accounting even more. Making sure that dealer prep and transportation costs and every possible thing was listed in the contract also helped. And, if you got caught, you loudly cursed the computer for letting you put things in the wrong box, moved it to where you should have put it in the first place, and smiled your great big whiskery Rascal Rick smile. If it was a woman who had caught you, you called her "little lady", regardless of her age. If it was a man, you called him "Stud" if he was under about forty and "Compadre" if he was over that.

This was the lion-occupied den that Bob sauntered into that afternoon.

"Welcome to Rascal Rick's, home of rascally good deals." boomed Rick effusively. "I'm Rick. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking here?"

Bob, raised to be polite, stuck out his hand. "Bob." he said. He had adopted an aversion to using his last name lately.

"Well now Bob, what kind of beautiful new car can I put you in today?"

"What have they done with the Chevy Styleline lately?" asked Bob. "I've always wanted a Styleline Deluxe two door convertible."

Rick had no idea that a Chevrolet Styleline Deluxe was a model of car produced by Chevrolet in the forties, or that there had been the whopping (for that day) sum of 32,392 made in 1949, the year model Bob had seen last. He didn't know that the car Bob was asking about had a selling price brand new of $2,297.00, which is why Bob wanted one. He had money now. He wanted an expensive car. In 1949 you could buy any number of brand new cars for less than a thousand dollars.

But Rascal Rick was a pro. He heard the words "two door convertible", which to him meant Camaro, since Bob didn't quite look like the Corvette type to Rick. And, it being California and all, Rick had three Camaro rag tops on his lot. Smiling his rascally smile, he waved his hand toward the side door and said "Stud, this is your lucky day! I have exactly the car you're looking for!"

Bob had seen modern automobiles, of course. He was aware that they looked much different than they had back in 1950. In fact, the sheer quantity of different brands, styles, and colors made them all turn in to a blur for the most part. Once in a while one stuck out and Bob would examine it, but for the most part, after his initial gaping, he ignored them.

He didn't ignore the Camaro Rick showed him, though. He fell in love with it instantly. He almost salivated as Rick showed him all the features, putting the top down and then back up and then down again.

"Sit in it!" urged Rick. "Try her on for size."

Bob sat. He put his hands on the wheel. Rick showed him how to push a little lever that let the steering wheel go up or down so that it was most comfortable. It had electric seats too, something Bob would never have thought about.

"If you have a suitable deposit I can let you take her for a spin." teased Rick.

Bob looked up at him, squinting in the sun.

"Why don't I just buy it. Then I can drive it all I want."

"A man after my own heart." gushed Rick. "Come on inside stud. I have a financing deal that's going to make you piss your pants with joy. I can put you in that sweet baby for less than five hundred a month!"

Bob got out and walked back to the sales room with Rick.

"Can't I just pay for it and be done with it?" asked Bob.

"Sure can stud!" snickered Rick. "Let me get the card on that car and I'll see what the damage is."

Rick sat down and dug through a box, pulling out a card. He got out a form and began filing in blanks on it. With the base price and the options that were already on the car, the price came to a little over thirty thousand. Rick looked at the sucker and put a "1" in front of the figure for dealer prep. People hardly understood that. If they asked questions Rick just said it was part of getting a car ready to drive in California. Everybody knew how California screwed the owners of cars.

He wrote the total at the bottom with a flourish and turned the form towards Bob.

"There's the cost on that one. You picked a good one ... lots of popular options for this part of the country and with the financing deal I can offer you I can..."

Bob held up his hand. He looked at Rick and then back at the paper.

"I only wanted one car." he said. "Not the whole lot full."

Rick's eyes went narrow. "Son, I'm making you a hell of a deal on that car. There's no need to be sarcastic. As you can clearly see here," he pointed to boxes on the form, "that is the base price right there, and these are the options on the car. Then there's the shipping and handling from the factory. I may be getting on in years, but my math is fine. That car costs exactly thirty-two thousand seven hundred eighteen dollars and seventy-three cents. Now that doesn't include sales tax, of course, but you can't finance the sales tax. I have to have the sales tax up front."

Bob blinked. "May I borrow your phone?" he asked.

Rick frowned and nodded toward the phone. Bob called Betty. "Hi honey" he said into the phone. "Is it possible for a car to cost as much as thirty thousand dollars these days?" He waited as Rick gaped. "Really? ... that much? Who in the world would spend that much for a car? ... okay ... no, everything's fine. I'm just looking at a car and it seemed to cost an awful lot ... okay, I'll see you later. Bye." He handed the phone back to Rick, who was looking at him oddly.

"Okay," said Bob. "I'll take it."

"Well, that's right nice," said Rick carefully. "Now, about the financing..."

"Can I just write you a check?" asked Bob, pulling out his brand new checkbook.

"For thirty some-odd thousand dollars?" asked Rick. For the first time he got the feeling he was missing something important here, and that it was quite possible he wasn't going to be happy when he found out about it. If this guy was an escapee from some mental institution, there could be trouble. "Of course I'll have to check with the bank to make sure everything's okay." he said smoothly.

"Sure," said Bob. The idea that anybody could sit down and actually write a check for that much money had him a little numb. He carefully printed where he had been taught to print, and put numbers where he had been taught to put numbers. Then he signed his name in his usual illegible scrawl. It didn't occur to him that his name and address were not printed anywhere on the check. He looked up. "What should I put here?" he asked, putting his pen on the payee line.

"Ah ... I have a stamp," said Rick. He accepted the check and peered at it closely. In her excitement, Tiffany had grabbed the usual starter kit, which started with check number 0001. Rick now was convinced that something flaky was going on. He picked up the phone, trying to remember where that damned .25 automatic was that his wife had insisted he keep in the store for protection. He hadn't even seen the damn thing in months.

"Hello, yes, this is Rick, down at Rascal Rick's. Do you suppose I could have a teensy little word with Tiffany?" Rick had done business with the Circleton Savings and Loan for years. Their kickback for financing transactions was lower than some of the others, which was why they got less of his business. Still, he knew Tiffany. She came on the line and he explained that he needed to verify funds for a starter check. She said he could already have done that if he hadn't bothered her and made her stop doing something important. He explained it was a starter check for over thirty grand, and there was silence. Then she asked him if the account number on the check was 15668-23390 and he said it was, in fact. The knot in his stomach seemed to grow somewhat at that. Her reaction, however, wasn't anything like he could have even dreamed of expecting.

Tiffany had been raised in a Navy family, and she used every curse word and epithet she had ever heard in informing Rascal Rick that if he caused their client any discomfort in any way whatsoever, or overcharged him even one penny, that the bank's relationship with Rascal Rick's would be terminated faster than he could say "Rascally Rick". Nor would funds ever be available to him for credit again. In fact, she threatened to buy the mortgage on his home loan personally and foreclose if he made the man sitting in his office unhappy.

Rick tried his always winning style. "Come on Tiffy, all I wanted to do was verify funds. You're getting all excited over nothing. If he's got the funds, he's got the funds, right?"

"You lame brained swindler!" shouted Tiffany. "That man could buy and sell you and me and the whole bank. You send me the bill for whatever car he wants and I'll pay it. And I'm going to have the contract gone over with a fine tooth comb Rick, so don't try any of your normal crap! I'm not fucking around with this Rick. You give the man the keys and kiss his ass goodbye. And fill it up for him before he takes it anywhere, do you hear me Rick?"

Shaken by her vehemence, Rick did exactly as she told him to do. He walked out of his office and handed the keys and the check to Bob. "Uh, your bank will take care of everything. You don't have to write the check after all." Then he handed him a card that was good for one fill up at a gas station down the street. "Just give that to the guy in the window and that will take care of your first tank of gas."

Bob smiled and got up. "Thanks." he said, heading for the lot, and his new car. Rick was so upset that he forgot to put a temporary plate on the Camaro. Oh well, the guy would be back sooner or later to get it. California's finest would be quick to convince him of that.

Bob had driven before, of course. But what he'd driven most recently had been either four cylinder sedans, or six cylinder minivans. His own Desoto had been powered by a flathead six cylinder motor with 82 horsepower.

His new Camaro was supercharged, and developed 253 horsepower. It was a four speed automatic. It had Goodyear Eagles on it when he bought it, with a total tread depth of eleven thirty-seconds of an inch. When he pulled out of the lot and stepped on the gas, he left a cloud of white smoke and about four thirty-seconds of an inch of rubber in pretty wavy lines for about half a block. He was trembling when he finally got the car stopped.

On the way home, he figured out how to keep the car from making those wavy black lines on the road. Now he could make them straight.

Rascal Rick watched the news that night, and finally found out the identity of the man he'd sold the Camaro to. The man was on the news. In fact, he was on the news twice. The lead story involved the interview of a former security guard of the Amalgamated Indemnity of America company who complained that he got fired for doing his job, while "that Rip Van Winkle creep" got fifty million dollars for making threatening movements. There was a picture of Bob, the same one that was on his new driver's license, and the "breaking news" of a settlement between "Rip Van Winkle" and Amalgamated Indemnity of America. The announcer took great glee in winking and telling the audience that the deal between Amalgamated and Bob Winkle was "secret".

The second story was about how California's finest had, indeed, pulled "California's newest multimillionaire" over. The same photograph was flashed on Rick's screen again. They wrote him a ticket for not having a license tag, and being unable to provide proper registration and proof of insurance. But mostly it was for driving a hundred and twenty in a fifty-five zone. The car had been seized, but later released, according to the State Trooper who was interviewed on camera and said "He's a nice guy. He just wasn't used to the car." Then it was back to the anchor woman who flashed a smile and a little innuendo about the privileges of being wealthy. Smiling the whole time, she ruined Rick's day. He had four Corvettes on his lot too.

Bob had, in fact, been escorted back to Betty's house by a trooper earlier in the evening. In the driveway he got a good natured lecture from the young woman, while Betty came out to see what was wrong. Bob told her to call her sisters and have them come over because he had something important to tell them.

Betty made the calls while Bob chatted with the trooper, who asked for his autograph before she left and waved at him as she drove away. In Martha's case, Sunny was there when Betty called, so she naturally called her cousins. The younger cousins found out from their mothers that something was up, and as it turned out, all nine of the women were together when Bob informed them that his estate had grown considerably. Since Bob's former "estate" had consisted mostly of stuff up in Martha's attic, the change affected the women rather dramatically.

"We're millionaires?" asked Sunny weakly.

"Your grandfather is a millionaire." corrected her mother.

Bob held up his hands. "Look, I don't want there to be any fussing about this. You all took care of me for fifty years. Now I can return the favor. I don't want you to all go out and go on a spending spree, but at the same time I don't want any of you to have to scrimp and save to get something you need." He frowned. "I already went out and bought a car, and I probably shouldn't have. I should have consulted you all first. I don't know anything about cars and I probably got the wrong one. That lovely young State Trooper thinks so. The woman at the bank said something too that I didn't understand ... something about money markets and accountants and all that, and I don't know anything about that. What I know is that, if we treat this money like a limited resource, it will last all of us for a long long time, and that's what I'd like to happen."

"So," said Martha, "No mansions, no sports cars, no movie star lifestyle" She looked around at everyone. "We go on like we were, with some improvements and maybe a little redecorating."

June spoke. "This would be a good chance to start a family business." she offered.

"I'd love to quit my job," said Gidget. "To have my own business, I mean ... or a family business, like you said Mom. If I'm going to control inventory, I'd like it to be ours, instead of my boss's."

Sunny, who was a bookkeeper for an industrial plant outside of town nodded. "I've been thinking about taking some night classes, to get my accounting degree. Why should we hire an accountant if one of us can do that?"

"I was an accountant." commented Bob. "I can't imagine that much has changed, but if it has maybe we could go to school together ... you know, help each other with our homework."

There was talk of investments. No one in the family owned any stocks or bonds but Fran was in the investment club at school. Their investments, though only on paper, had been in the black for two years and Fran knew that the teacher who was the club sponsor had contacts in the investment world.

The odd thing was that none of them, including Bob, could think of anything that they were just dying to run out and buy. Things were mentioned, to be sure, but other than "a pair of shoes to go with that dress I bought last month and haven't worn yet" and "Maybe I can fix that running toilet now" and "It's time for tires for the Bronco" everything somebody brought up was then tossed aside as something "I don't really need anyway."

Nothing was decided, except to all go out for ice cream together. They went to a neighboring tourist area on the Indian reservation, where no one knew them and sat around at tables pulled together, having frozen desserts of one kind or another and talking more about different ideas for a family owned business. They spent two hours in animated discussions before deciding to head back to Circleton for a celebratory meat loaf dinner at Martha's.

The news vans were back when they got back home.

Bob had taken his daughters for ice cream in his new car, with the top down and a lot of giggling going on. On the way back, Fran claimed the front seat, and Val and Becca climbed in the back, having just as much fun as their grandmothers had.

It was dark by the time they got back home and that was probably why Bob had a chance to get away. When he saw the van sitting in front of Betty's house, where they had all left from, he turned into an alley. Like a well rehearsed maneuver, the van with the older women in it went on to Betty's, where they got out and hurried inside. Sunny, driving her Bronco, drove slowly by and went to her mother's house, where another news van was camped out. She didn't stop, but went on to her own house. It was being surveilled too. It didn't take long to figure out that all six houses were being watched, waiting for the big break that each eager news crew hoped to be able to capitalize on. They arrived at Gidget's house last, and decided to run the gauntlet there. Once inside they called Betty, unsure of what to do. Martha answered the phone.

"Just stay there," said Martha. "June and Betty and I are going to stay here."

"What about Grandpa?" asked Sunny. "And the girls?"

"They can take care of themselves. Betty thinks he'll just take them to the cabin, since nobody seems to know about that yet."

"Okay," said Sunny doubtfully.

It would have been interesting to be a fly on the wall in either of those two houses ... or in the cabin later, where Bob was indeed headed.

With the women all grouped in their own generational age groups, the talk about the family's sudden access to wealth took on a slightly different tone. Each generation had their own interests, and they had now had time to contemplate that sudden access to wealth.

The differences between the discussions that went on that night could also be viewed as generational. Betty, June and Martha had been thinking about trying to live on Social Security for some time. The worries associated with that prospect suddenly vanished, or at least became much less intimidating.

For their daughters, money meant an opportunity to live free from the strictures of having to report to a job where they made money for somebody else. It represented freedom from having to kowtow to the boss. But only if it was managed into a situation where whatever business they entered into was a success.

For the younger cousins, it meant access to educational opportunities that had not been an option before this. They didn't quite have the foresight to envision being part and parcel of a family owned business, or what their roles in such an endeavor might be. But the worn out phrase "You can be anything you really want to be in America." seemed a lot more realistic to them now that they could go to any institute of higher learning they wanted to.

The most interesting aspect of all this was that the attitude, despite their difference in age, was remarkably similar. All of them, at one time or another, had been in a financial crunch, or in an immediate family that was in the midst of a financial crunch. All of them viewed Bob's sudden wealth as something that could do them all a lot of good, but which could also be soaked up like rain into the desert if it wasn't protected. For that reason, the urge to go out and spend money like it grew on trees just didn't surface in any of them.

Only Becca had been to the cabin thus far, and the other two girls were excited at the adventure they found themselves on when Bob announced that was where he was taking them.

Val, perhaps because she thought a lot about her date with Zack, was the one who pointed out that they didn't have any clothes with them for an overnight stay.

It was the lack of greed and avarice in the younger girls that prompted them to do just what they'd have done before Bob had big bucks. None of them thought of living high on the hog at a fancy hotel.

"Stop at that Wal-Mart!" shouted Val, pointing.

Twenty minutes later the trunk of the Camaro was stuffed with white bags that held clothing, toothbrushes and various other health and beauty items, and groceries to make the girls' favorite dinners. There was a good natured argument about which favorite dinner would be prepared that night when Bob reminded them that they'd probably only spend one night in the cabin, and might not even be there for more than dinner tonight and breakfast the next morning. They resolved the argument by seniority. Bob told Val to choose the main dish and she picked Lasagna hamburger helper. Becca got to choose the green beans as the vegetable and Fran insisted on making a tossed salad. When they actually began preparing the meal, the table ended up loaded with those items, plus carrots, garlic bread, cottage cheese, black olives and a two bottles of wine that Bob produced. They had been buy one - get one free.

"Can I have some too?" asked Fran.

"One glass," said Bob sternly.

Fran promptly went through all the cupboards to find the biggest glass she could and turned around to present it to Bob.

"Here." she said smiling.

"That's a little big for a little girl," said Bob, teasing.

"I'm not a little girl!" said Fran, her face darkening. "When will people stop calling me a little girl?!" she said, her voice getting louder.

Bob held up both hands. "Okay, okay," he said, using the new term he'd learned from hearing all the women use it. "I was just teasing."

"Well don't!" said Fran. "I'm almost a woman and I'm tired of it."

Val rolled her eyes at Becca, who rolled hers back theatrically. Both put on a straight face when Fran shot dark looks at them.

Fran drank the wine Bob poured her like it was water, mostly because she was still mad. It hit her empty stomach like a time bomb with an extremely quick timer, and by the time dinner was ready she was giggling and having to concentrate to walk straight. Thankfully, getting some food in her helped and soon she was just extra mellow. Still, her inhibitions were lowered.

"So," she asked through a mouthful of hamburger helper, "What are we going to do after supper?"

"Is there a TV?" asked Becca.

"No TV," said Bob. The meal was delicious. This hamburger helper stuff was addictive. He kept eating.

"No TV?" whined Becca. "Who has no TV in their house these days?"

"Whoever owns this place," said Bob, taking another slice of garlic bread.

"So, what are we going to do?" she asked.

Bob swallowed, looked at his new watch, and sighed. "It's late. It's bedtime."

Fran, who had managed somehow to get her glass re-filled with wine while nobody was looking, and who had slurped the stuff happily, was leaning sideways just a hair off center. She had a really, really good buzz on now.

"Where are we all going to sleep?" she asked, leaning so far to the left that she corrected with a jerk.

Everybody looked around. There was one bed, a mattress on steel springs hung from an old iron bedstead. It was a double size. It had been ornate when new, but had so many coats of paint on it that the detail had softened to mere bumps now. There was another bed that folded up into the wall, also a double. Bob got up and went over to it, pulling it down with a thump. Dust flew up into the air and Val wrinkled her nose. Then there was the couch.

"Pick a place," said Bob, yawning.

Val and Becca traded looks. They were both thinking the same thing.

Fran's eyes had gone a little glazed and she was leaning again.

"I'll sleep with Grandpa," said Becca suddenly.

"No you won't," said Val firmly.

"Well then ... you can't either!" said Becca petulantly.

"What's going on here?" asked Bob, hearing the heat in their voices.

"I told them what we did," said Becca, still petulant.

"Ohhh boy," said Bob, his shoulders slumping. "Why did you do that Becca?" he asked.

"We tell each other everything." she said defensively.

"That's a habit you need to break," said Bob. He looked at Val, who was looking at him.

"I was mad at you when I found out." she said. She looked at Becca. "I was mad at her too."

"I know," said Bob sadly. "We shouldn't have done it."

"I should have been first," said Val, sounding petulant herself. "I'm the oldest."

Bob rocked back on his heels. "You're joshing me." he said.

"So I went out with Zack and gave him my virginity!" she said, sticking her jaw out.

Bob didn't have the faintest idea what to say. He thought back to Val's voice, and the things he remembered her doing in his dreams. She'd never gone farther than using her mouth on him. The other two girls in the room had done things too, but he'd gone a lot farther with Becca since then. A lot farther. He looked at Fran, to see what she was thinking, but she was nodding, falling asleep in her chair.

"I wanted you to do it," said Val.

Bob sighed. "Val, honey ... I..."

"It's okay really." Val interrupted him. "I'm not mad any more ... really. I had such a good time with Zack. It was really wonderful."

"Well... ," said Bob. "That's good, I guess. I didn't know."

"I know. I was too chicken to tell you, and things were all riled up anyway. I think I'm still a little jealous of Becca though. That's why I said she couldn't sleep with you. But I won't sleep with you either. I belong to Zack now. I think I love him."

"After just one date?" asked Bob. He looked at Becca, who was sitting quietly just listening.

"It's hard to explain," said Val. "I don't think I've ever been in love before. Maybe with you ... or what I thought you'd be like if you were awake. And I do love you ... and I did want you to be my first. But when I was with him it was so amazing, and so unbelievable, and he made me feel so special. The way he looked at me. He got embarrassed when I teased him and was so cute. It made me want to give it to him too. And he was there ... and you had done it with Becca..." She trailed off.

"So you're not sorry?" asked Bob.

"Oh no!" she said smiling. "It was beautiful. I'll never forget it ever."

"Good," said Bob smiling.

"So now can I sleep with him?" asked Becca.

Val took a breath to say something but Bob beat her to it. "Maybe it would be better if I didn't sleep with anybody." he said. "We're all tired and we're all here together." He nodded meaningfully at Fran, who was leaning again, her head down on her chest.

"She wants to sleep with you too," said Becca. Her petulance was back. "I told her she was too young."

"She is too young," said Bob.

"I know that, but she's so stubborn. She babbled on about how all our grandmothers had our mothers when they were fifteen and stuff like that. She made me agree to help her."

"Oh really?" asked Bob. He could just imagine the fiery Fran, eyes flashing, demanding that her cousin help her seduce him. It was comical and not a little erotic too. "Did you tell her I think you're too young too?"

"Yes," said Becca disgustedly. "It didn't do any good. And I'm not too young. I'm old enough that I'm horny all the time thinking about it. Can't I please sleep with you tonight? It's the perfect chance." she said hopefully.

"It wouldn't be fair to Val," said Bob.

"She said she wouldn't do it with you," said Becca stubbornly.

"Yes, but you know how she felt. She'd see us ... hear us. It would hurt her feelings." He looked at Val. "Wouldn't it?"
Val frowned and nodded. "I still want to. But I don't want to. It doesn't make any sense."

"It makes perfect sense," said Bob. "I loved my wife more than anything in the world. I still felt things for other women. I just didn't act on them. It wouldn't have been the right thing to do. But I still wanted to sometimes."

"You never cheated on her?" asked Val. That appealed to her sense of romance.

"I got drunk at a party one night and kissed another woman. Valerie never knew. I felt bad for months. Then the same woman tried to get me in bed. When I refused she went and told Valerie that we'd already done it. She actually tried to break us up out of spite."

"So what did she do?" asked Val.

"Valerie? She asked me about it. I told her the truth. She was mad at me for a while, but she got over it. She decided it was just a kiss. I didn't drink any more after that. At least not heavily. It was too dangerous. I do strange things when I drink."

"I do too," said Val quietly. "When Zack took me out to dinner we had wine. I turned into a slut when we got to his apartment."

Bob laughed. "That probably wasn't the wine." he said smiling.

"I think it was. We had wine tonight and I want to..." She bit her lip.

"Maybe that's why I'm so horny I can hardly stand it," said Becca suddenly. "I want to rub my pussy right now ... I'm actually wiggling in my chair."

"Well then, maybe that would solve the problem. Let's put Frannie on the couch and you two can have one of the beds and I'll take the other. Once the lights are out you two can rub to your heart's delight."

"In the same bed?" asked Becca. She looked at Val shocked.

"I need to do something," said Val shrugging.

"Me too ... but ... Hey! I have an idea!"

"What?" asked Val warily.

Becca darted a look at Bob. "You remember when we were practicing? For what I do on dates? With my mouth ... and your mouth ... on each other? The only thing better than that was what we did after that."

Val leaned forward. "Zack did that too! It was ... it was ... Ohhh I want to do that!"

"Wouldn't that be cheating on Zack?" asked Becca slyly.

Val shook her head. "I can't get pregnant that way. That's different. It's not sex. President Clinton said so." She grinned to show she was making fun.

Bob groaned. "Don't tell me you're trying to get pregnant."

Val arched her right eyebrow. "No ... it's complicated. When I explained it to Zack it took half an hour. But the point is that I don't feel like oral sex would be cheating on him. Not with you, anyway. And I'm so wound up..."

Bob was pretty wound up too. It's pretty hard for a guy to have two women he loves tell him they want him sexually and not react to it.

"I'll take care of you two, and then you can take care of me." he offered. "But it will be in front of each other." he warned.

Becca waved her hand. "We've seen each other naked all our lives. And it's not the same as if we were actually doing it in front of each other. She's right. It's different."

They carried Fran to the couch, the girls getting her legs and Bob getting her upper torso. She mumbled, but didn't wake up. Then the girls started undressing, unashamed. They both looked at Bob and he started getting out of his clothes too. He was erect when he dropped his pants.

"Mmmm that looks so good." moaned Becca.

"This might not be a good idea after all." breathed Val.

"I'll behave. You two behave too. Now, on the bed. I'm ready for dessert ... again." He grinned.

It was a little awkward at first. Bob started on Becca and Val lifted her head to watch. Becca moaned and lay her head down, her hand reaching for her cousin's. Bob reached up and twiddled her nipples as he sucked her clit and fucked his tongue in and out of her pussy. The leg next to Val bounced off of Val's thigh as she opened and closed her legs, alternately trapping Bob's head and releasing it. Her hips began to thrust and Bob had to move his hands under her buttocks to pull her pussy firmly against his face. What brought her over the edge was taking a big bite of her clit and then flicking it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue. She cursed softly and then morphed into a chant of "Oh yes ... oh yes ... oh yes ... oh yes! ... ohhhhhhhh." Her head flopped back and forth on the bed as she came. Bob stopped biting her and gave her a few licks, but she pushed his head away, sobbing for breath and saying "No more."

He lifted his head and looked at Val hungrily. She had been lying on her side, watching in wonder at what it looked like. She rolled to her back and brought her knees up, holding them with her hands as she let them pull apart, opening herself for him.

He was tempted to stick his prick in that lovely pussy, but he had promised to be good. So he feasted on her sex, almost in the identical way he had feasted on Becca's. And she came almost as quickly with him as she had with Zack. Her squirting pussy surprised him, but like Zack he sucked and slurped as much as he could. Still his face was thoroughly wet when she went limp and he pulled away. He had been leaning on the bed, standing on the floor and he stood up, his prick wobbling.

Becca had recovered and bounced up, pushing him down where she had been. His knees hung off the bed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Her mouth swooped down to take his prick in and he groaned as she sucked.
Val rolled over and put her face beside Becca's.

"Share." she pleaded.

Becca pulled off, her hand holding the base. She pointed it at Val and smiled. Val pursed her lips, giving the tip a wet kiss and then her lips flowed over the head, pushing the foreskin back. She sucked the knob, rather than taking the whole thing in like Becca liked to do. It was amazingly different. They both did it exactly like they had done it when he was sleeping. Both girls had masturbated him to completion, and had brought him to completion with their mouths, and both girls were experts at it ... at least with Bob. They both knew the signs as his body began to get ready for that completion. They traded off, bringing him so close that he leaked. Each sucked up his precum and swallowed as they gave the other girl her turn.

After being brought to the edge three or four times Bob moaned: "You're killing me."

Becca grinned at him. "It's just because I'm so young. You know how you keep telling me I'm too young. Maybe you're right."

Val sucked hard and pulled off with a popping wet sound.

"It's too much fun to rush."

"My balls are starting to hurt." he groaned.

Val's hand had begun stroking him slowly when she pulled off. She sped up.

"Shall we take pity on him?" she asked Becca.

"I suppose so." sighed Becca theatrically.

Val sped up.

"You got first suck. I get first taste." she said.

Becca made a face. "As long as you leave some for me."

"Here it comes," said Val knowingly.

She leaned over, her mouth an open circle above his dick. Just as the first soothing shot blasted out of the end of his prick she sealed her lips around the head. She let go of his prick and jerked her lips off, sucking to keep his cum in her mouth. Becca almost made it, but his second shot landed partly on her cheek before she could get her mouth over his cock. She went deep again as his third salvo rocketed out and sucked on the way back up as number four was added to it. She pulled off and waved at Val to finish up while she sat back and rolled his stuff around in her mouth, tasting it and swallowing it a little at a time. Val sucked and swallowed too until he was almost limp before she finally sat back smiling.

"That was fun. I feel lots better. I still wish Zack was here though."

Bob groaned again and panted to catch his breath.

"I can't move." he moaned.

The two girls giggled and played at arranging him on the bed, pulling at his legs until he was bent in an "L" shape and then trying to push his upper torso so he was straight again. He was too heavy, though, and had to help. Finally he lay straight on the bed.

"Night night," said Val sweetly.

Becca got a washcloth and handed it to Bob, who wiped his face. She took it from him and started wiping his prick too, holding it and pulling at it. He batted her hands away as she laughed. She leaned over to kiss him and whispered. "I'm still horny. Don't be surprised if I climb in bed with you later." She grinned a conspiratorial grin and went to turn out the light. Bob fell asleep listening to the two girls talk softly as they lay in bed together. He fell asleep smiling.

Chapter 20
Fran woke up in the dark and felt the strangeness of not knowing where you are. Her head was still fuzzy and she felt pain. She lifted her head and saw the interior of the cabin in the moonlight coming through the windows. "Oh yeah." she thought to herself. The pain localized just above her groin and she realized she had to pee badly. Still woozy from the wine, she felt dizzy when she stood up and sat back down making the frame of the couch creak. She finally decided to crawl to the bathroom and that was better. She was sweaty and didn't like that. While she sat down on the toilet she took off her shirt and bra and kicked off her shorts. Then she spread her legs and bore down as her bladder began to cooperate.

Bob was wakened by the creaking thump of Fran plopping back down on the couch. He didn't know what it was, but it woke him up. He listened and heard a rustling as she crawled to the bathroom, and then nothing, and finally the tell-tale splash of urine hitting water hard. It was just one of the girls going to the bathroom. He closed his eyes and began to drift back to sleep.

Fran felt so good after her bladder emptied that she just sat there for a while. She tried standing up and it wasn't so bad now. She swayed a little, but if she used her hands on the wall she could navigate relatively well. She was thirsty, and not knowing any better, leaned over the sink and drank straight from the tap. The wine still in her stomach began to seep into her bloodstream again almost immediately.

She stepped out into the main room, her eyes accustomed to the dim light that penetrated the windows. She saw Bob lying on the bed naked. She giggled, and then put her finger up to her lips to quiet herself. She swayed and almost fell and to save herself she dropped one knee to the floor and caught herself with her fingertips. Then she crawled again, this time to the edge of Bob's bed. She held her breath and lifted her head little by little, pretending she was an Indian, spying on the Cavalry. As her eyes rose high enough they saw the landscape of Bob's body, pale in the moonlight. There, lying on his brown bush was his penis.

"The soldier is asleep when he's supposed to be alert and standing at attention!" she giggled to herself. "I can ambush him! He hasn't got a chance."

She got to her knees and ever so slowly reached her hand out. She couldn't seem to make it stay still, and it went from side to side. She concentrated until her hand was right over his cock and then touched it with one fingertip. She jerked her hand back and covered her mouth with both hands as she giggled. She put her index and middle fingertips on the bedclothes at the edge of the bed and walked them toward Bob's hip, making them go fast at a diagonal, and then very slowly toward his skin, like a guerilla sneaking up on an enemy position. She knew better than to crawl her fingers up his hip, so she "jumped" her make believe attacker and her hand landed on his prick. Her fingers went around it and she marveled at how warm it felt. Bob's breathing changed and she froze.

He seemed to sigh and didn't move any further. She squeezed gently, sliding her hand down toward his balls like she had when he was sleeping in Aunt Martha's house. He was sleeping now, and it suddenly seemed normal to be doing what she was doing. Her alcohol fogged mind made the transference complete as her hand moved faster and harder, no longer worried about waking him up. He never woke up, right?

Or did he?

Yes, he did wake up. But he wasn't waking up now. She began to feel the tingles around her body that she had felt when doing this before, and her other hand went to stroke her pussy lips. She loved to pull at them, stretching one of them as far as she could and letting it snap back. When she had done that a few times, she would burrow her fingers between her stretched lips to find her bud and squeeze it. She couldn't pull it, because by now she was wet and slippery and she couldn't get a grip on it.

One hand stroked the penis, which was getting hard, just like it always did, while the other hand pinched as she spread her legs wide while she squatted beside the bed. Then it was time to straighten three fingers and rub them back and forth over her clit as the streaks of pleasure began to suffuse her belly. Her nipples tingled and she started breathing faster.

Bob was having a great dream in which Becca was playing with him, getting ready to swallow his cock. He rose toward wakefulness and fought it. He didn't want to wake up and make the dream stop. But her hand moving on him got faster and harder and it brought him awake with the dream lingering in his mind. She was there. She'd said she might do this.

"Suck it." he whispered.

Fran felt him move and heard his whisper. She froze.

"Suck it baby." he whispered again.

Fran's befuddled mind knew what he meant. She'd thought about doing that before, but hadn't had the nerve to do it. Now, his invitation helped her knock down the last wall of inhibition she had. She stood, and leaned over the bed, his prick still in her hand. In her mind, he knew who she was and accepted her as a woman.

She stuck out her tongue and touched the tip of it to the tip of his cock. His hips flexed and he pushed it against her lips. She backed up enough to lick her lips, tasting. Nothing. Not good ... not bad ... just nothing. She touched it with her tongue again, feeling the surface. The foreskin was up, and her tongue pushed at it, moving it. She moved her hand to pull it back and her tongue felt a different surface, tight and smooth and slick. Her lips were right there and she tentatively nipped at the tip with them, like she was taking the tip off an ice cream cone. His skin felt smooth and warm. She liked it. That led to taking a little more and a little more until the knobby head was in her mouth. It felt good to try and squash it with her lips and cheeks, but she was careful not to bite.

His hips flexed again and shoved another inch in her mouth. Now her lips were down on the shaft, and that felt different too. That skin moved a little, and was bumpier. She had to open her mouth wider because he was thicker down there. She played by sliding her lips up and down the long shaft like she had seen a woman do in a porno flick one of her friends had shown her.

Bob sighed as Becca worked on his prick. She was being much more gentle than she had been in the past. Before she was almost violent, taking as much into her mouth as she could without choking, and moving her head fast. Tonight she was slower, more tender. Both ways were nice. The fast way made him want to cum in her mouth. But this way made him want to wait and cum in her pussy. He thought about eating her pussy first, but he'd already done that tonight, and he wanted the real deal now. He moved his hand to her hip. She was still naked. He slid his hand up to fondle a breast.

Becca and Fran were alike in odd ways. Becca was short for her age, and modestly developed. She had shoulder length auburn hair that usually hung loose. Fran was tall for her age, and ahead of most of the other girls in terms of her shape. Her dark brown hair was also shoulder length, though she usually had it in a pony tail. Tonight it was loose. They swapped clothing all the time and it fit them both perfectly.
The result was that, in the dark, Bob couldn't see her well enough to see the darker hair, and her breasts were about the same size as Becca's.

So Bob still thought it was Becca making him feel delicious.

And Fran still thought he knew who she was.

When he ran his hand over her breast and felt for a nipple, Fran shivered. She'd never let a boy touch her naked breast before. A couple had copped feels through her clothing at dances, but that was it. The feel of his flesh on her nipples was almost astonishingly wonderful and she leaned closer to him. His hand went to her back and he pulled her toward him. She crawled up onto the bed. Since he was lying right in the middle, there was no room for her to lie down on either side. Instead, she stayed on all fours, straddling his knees, with her hands on either side of his hips. This was better. His prick was at full stiffness now, and she didn't need her hand to stand it up to lick and suck. Whenever she let it fall out of her mouth, though, it leaned to one side - her left - and she had to move her upper body to recapture it. She played, licking and sucking for five more minutes, unhappy because she couldn't reach her pussy because she had both hands planted on the bed. Then his hands pulled her face up toward his and she had to crawl up his body. He was pulling her up for a kiss, and that put her pussy lips right on the bottom of his prick as her body forced it down onto his abdomen. Her natural inclination to press her pussy against something hard brought almost electric shocks that shot out from her pussy and up into her belly. They raced under her skin somehow and into her nipples, which spiked and stuck out more than they ever had before.

Fran couldn't decide what to concentrate on. She'd kissed boys too, but not like this. Bob's mouth was alive and moving under her lips, and she wanted to move hers like that too. His tongue flicked into her mouth and then back out. She'd heard of this, but thought it would be nasty. It wasn't. But her pussy was rubbing that long hard thing down there, and that felt amazing too. She dragged her pussy along his prick and then pushed it back down again. The slightly bumpy skin on the bottom of his cock pushed her labia aside and let her clit ride directly on the hard surface. She knew instantly she could cum this way, if she had enough time to rub. Bob's hands slid all over her back, her waist and her buttocks, grabbing them to help her slide back and forth.

Again, she let it all happen, just experiencing all the new feelings and things. And again, Bob was the one who pushed it further. Becca had wanted his prick in her earlier, and he knew she wanted it now. He pushed her to a sitting position and reached down to fist his cock. He pushed it at her belly, expecting her to raise up so he could get it started into her pussy. For some reason she didn't raise up, but scooted back. He had to bend his prick almost painfully to make it point toward his feet, but he felt the tip nudge into her opening. She gasped and he knew she was excited.

When Fran finally realized what he was trying to do her mind exploded. In her dreams she had done this before. Philosophically she wanted to feel what it was like. She still had, though, the natural desire to protect herself from harm, and the nervousness about letting her cherry get picked. Her emotions were at a peak, and her body was screaming to let that prick up inside her. She wanted to ... but she didn't at the same time. She decided that she would "try it a little bit" to see what that was like. Then she'd make up her mind about more. She shoved her pussy forward and the tip of his prick burrowed happily between her pussy lips. The pressure felt good to both of them as his broad knob spread her opening apart more than it had ever spread before.

But the knob was still outside of her. Her weight was on her knees, with her shins lying flat on the bed beside his legs. By leaning forward with her hands on his stomach, she could control how far her hips moved.
It felt good to push. The more she pushed, the better if felt. There came a point where pushing too hard was painful, but if she backed off from that point just a tiny bit, it was perfect. She couldn't hold it there, because she began to go numb, but if she backed off and then pushed, and backed off and pushed, it was fabulous. Basically she was fucking the tip of his cock with just her pussy lips.

Bob thought she was teasing him ... playing with him ... trying to drive him wild.

It was working.

There came a point where Bob leaned up, tightening his abs and reached for her waist. He grabbed it as she slid forward, her hands on his lower rib cage. He wanted it in her and he pulled her onto it.

Fran had excelled in gymnastics and in the process had destroyed her hymen. She was also more flexible than most girls her age, which is why, when she was forced down onto her great grandfather's rampant rod, it only hurt a lot, instead of tearing her apart.

"Ohhh oowwwwww" she complained as she was stuffed. Her thighs automatically flexed and pulled her up off the invader. But her upper legs were too short to pull completely off of him. The head was still inside her. She wanted to move her legs so she could get off, but when she tried, she slid back down. The tip of his cock felt like it was in her stomach and she tried to get off again, leaning forward and putting pressure on the tops of her feet. She was strong enough to lift her whole body that way, but Bob still hadn't figured out who she was, so his hands went back to her waist and pulled her back down onto his prick.

In her leaned forward position, when Bob impaled her again, the top of his cock scraped along her clit. Those electric tingles, combined with the fact that her pussy was beginning to adjust to his girth, gave her the first real information that there might be something more than pain. She tried the same maneuver again, with better results. By the time she'd done it two more times, there was more pleasure than pain, and the pain wasn't bad at all. She couldn't make it move too much though, and she just knew that if she could get more travel along that nice hard thing, it would feel even better. She sat up, letting her whole weight drive her down onto his cock and leaned to her left to unfold her right leg and put her foot flat on the bed. Then she leaned the other way to do the same thing. With her feet now beside his ribs she leaned forward again and put her hands on his chest. She had to move around, but she finally found a squatting position that put her thighs in control. She started bouncing, hearing wet sounds as she pulled her pussy almost off of his standing prick, and then let her pussy fall back to slam down against him, driving him deep.

That was the feeling she had been looking for, and it was even better than she had hoped. She set up a smooth repetitive tempo, fucking his cock with her pussy and making the bed springs squeak in a rhythmic tempo.

Val's sleep was disturbed by Fran's moan of pain, but she didn't wake up. Further noises brought her closer and closer to full consciousness, though, and she woke to the singing of the bed springs which were loud in the small room. As her mind cleared and she came more fully awake, she heard the breathing next, a regularly spaced panting, like a runner who is breathing in a certain number of breaths per minute. She had almost figured out what the noises meant when she moved her hand and felt Becca's body where she didn't expect it to be. If Becca was with her ... who was making all that noise in Bob's bed?

Then Fran gave out with her first moan. What she was now doing had brought her to the edge of orgasm much more quickly than she'd have thought possible, and the feeling was beginning to build in her like hot air in a balloon. Her speed and breathing rate both increased as she pounded her pussy down onto the prod that was serving her so well. Bob, for his part, didn't have to do anything at all but lie there and enjoy the feeling of his prick being jacked off, for all intents and purposes, by a soft, tight pussy. He was within a couple of hairs of busting a nut.

Like Fran's moan made things click in Val's mind about what was going on, it also made things click in Bob's mind. While she looked like Becca in the dark, and while she felt like Becca in the dark ... she didn't sound anything like Becca, dark or otherwise.

"Frannie?" Bob gasped.

"Uhhh ... uhhh ... uhhh ... uhhh..." Fran grunted as the wave inside her began to break.

"Frannie?" Bob gasped again. The thought that her beautiful young pussy was wrapped around his prick made him light headed.

There it was, thought Fran in her mind. It was here and she was having her first orgasm as a woman. She slammed her pussy down onto his prick, letting her whole weight swallow as much of the hard thing that was making her feel so wonderful into her. Her pussy spasmed and she wiggled all over Bob's abdomen as she shook and vibrated. Bob knew in that instant why this was sometimes called screwing. The rippling in her pussy and her movements made if feel like she was trying to screw herself down onto his prick.

"Ohhhh Frannie" groaned Bob as he realized he was going to cum and that there was nothing he could do about it."

Val sat up in bed, her eyes wide open.

"Frannie?" she yipped.

Becca woke up.

"Whatzz?" she mumbled.

The full force of her orgasm washed over Fran and she let out an agonized groan of appreciation that sounded like she was being tortured on the rack. Bob spurted at the same time, his cock sending thick jets of spunk to the tip of his cock. That tip was buried in Fran's cervix and as she wiggled, the spurts either painted that little doorway, or streaked through it into her womb. In both cases she felt it as a glowing ball of heat, and her mind characterized it as a candle that had been shoved deep inside her, with the flame at the tip.

Fran didn't get to enjoy any romantic afterglow. That's because Val jumped out of bed and reached for the light switch. In the dark of night it was blinding and everyone covered their eyes. Becca sat up in bed and looked around to see a very naked Fran still sitting on Bob's lap. It was instantly apparent what was happening. Val, standing frozen like a naked statue by the light switch, saw the same thing.

In the next fifteen minutes every emotion known to man flew from wall to wall in that cabin. There were recriminations, joy, anger, the flush of love, arguing, thankfulness, embarrassment, and a complete lack of repentance on Fran's part. She had done exactly what she wanted to do, and it had gone, if not like her dreams, very very well in her opinion.
One indication of just how upset everyone was, no one got dressed. It wasn't that they wanted to be naked around each other ... they were just too busy yelling at each other to think about what the rest of us would call propriety.

Bob got blamed until he said he thought it was Becca. Becca got yelled at for planning to sneak into bed with him. Fran got yelled at by everybody, but didn't care. Her pussy was full of wet, warm sperm and she loved every second of feeling it in her. When they ganged up on her, Fran disarmed them all by asking why it was that everybody was naked.

"Why were you naked?" asked Val, avoiding the answer.

"I had to go to the bathroom and it was hot," said Fran simply. "Why were you and Becca naked?"

Bob knew he had to get things under control. The damage was done, and couldn't be undone.

"Last night, after you fell asleep ... they sort of did some things too." he said.

Fran's mouth dropped open and she whirled to face Becca.

"You knew I wanted to do this!" she said accusingly. "You promised to help me! But as soon as I fall asleep you jump his bones?"

Val sat up straight.

"What's she talking about Becca?" she asked, here voice stern. "What did you promise to help her do?"

Becca was suddenly the center of attention. She looked from Fran to Val and back again.

"She was bugging me about wanting to get her cherry popped. She just had to do it with Grandpa. I told her he wouldn't do it, but she made me promise to help her get him to." Becca shrugged and Bob noticed that her breasts wobbled delightfully as a result.

"Oh ... so she made you!" snorted Val.

Then the yelling started all over again, except this time it was just between the girls. Bob, knowing that it would calm down eventually, just watched all the naked teenaged flesh around him. He was mildly surprised to feel his prick move in his lap, and looked down to see it was about half hard. He smiled and wondered if he should point out to the arguing cousins that, while they were yelling at each other, he was thinking about how much fun it would be to fuck one of them. He decided they might not see the humor in that.

It took them another fifteen minutes to air all their grievances, but in the end they were all buddies again. Then Val began to deliver a lecture to Fran about safe sex and the perils of pregnancy.

"Did you have safe sex with ... what's his name? ... Zack?"

Val looked startled. Before she could answer Fran turned to Becca.

"And when you told us about you and Grandpa, you didn't mention anything about condoms. Did you make Grandpa wear a condom when he popped your cherry?"

Becca just grinned. "Nope. I didn't even think about it. I was so horny that getting my pussy stuffed was all I could think about."

Fran turned back to Val. "You were saying?" she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Val bristled. "That's not fair. If I get pregnant, at least I'm old enough to keep the baby and raise it and provide for it. Becca is too, for that matter. But you're not even out of school yet. Don't be stupid, Frannie."

Fran nodded. "Somebody should have told our grandmothers that." She looked at Bob. "Did they even have condoms back in those days Grandpa?"

Bob laughed. "Yes, but only married men could buy them back then. You had to get them from the Pharmacist, and he knew everybody in town. He knew if you were married or not too. Teenagers for sure couldn't just waltz in and buy them. Instead they tried to find some adult who would get them for them. It was the same way with booze."

"Maybe that's why our grandmothers all got pregnant at fifteen." theorized Fran. "They weren't married, so they couldn't get condoms, so they had sex without them and got pregnant."

Bob's memory, after the first rush of restocking his mind with things to think about, now supplied odd bits and pieces of information, sometimes out of the blue. If he tried to remember things, he could, but it was usually something he'd already remembered that claimed his thoughts. A sound would trigger "new" memories and several times an odor had done that. Fran's talk of Bob's daughters being pregnant so young did it now.

In his mind Bob heard first Martha, and then June and Betty telling him that he had made babies in them. All three told him while they were riding his thick prick, and almost in the same way. Martha had been ecstatic that she had her Daddy's baby growing inside her belly. She had talked about names, and what he was going to look like (she was sure it was a boy, but Sunny had popped out instead), and what being pregnant felt like. He remembered her telling him she was putting his hand on her belly to feel the baby kick. He couldn't remember that sensation, but he remembered the words.

June had worried incessantly that she wouldn't be a good mother ... that she didn't know how to be a good mother. She worried about her ankles swelling. She worried about what people thought about her being pregnant so young. She worried about something happening to the baby, both before and after it was born. That changed when her baby began moving around inside her. Before then it had been an idea. When it moved, it became a little person inside her and she was too much in love with it to worry about anything any more. She had shared the whole experience with the sleeping man who had impregnated her.

Betty, being the youngest, was jealous of her sisters and every time she made love to her father she begged him to make a baby in her. When she finally missed a period, she stayed home from school and refused to go outside, afraid that something might make her have a miscarriage. Valerie couldn't even make her leave the house. She had spend most of each day with Bob for a week before she got bored and went back to school. She hadn't talked about being pregnant much at all. But every time she made love to him after that, she said "Thank you Daddy for letting me have a baby."

Their second children had been more routine. They were still excited, more so when they came back from the hospital to tell Bob he had sons now. After that, though, talk of pregnancies waned and Bob wouldn't know until he woke up that he had even more children.

"What's the matter Grandpa?" asked Becca, staring at Bob's slack face.

He couldn't very well tell them that their grandmothers wouldn't have used condoms even if they had them. None of his biological offspring other than his original three daughters called him "Daddy", so it was likely that they didn't even know. His daughters' reluctance to talk about fathers of children suddenly made a lot of sense. No, if these girls were to find out that their mothers were actually his biological daughters, it was going to have to be from the mothers of their mothers, and not him.

Bob smiled. "I was just thinking how lucky I am. I was asleep for fifty years, and lost almost everything that meant anything to me. Now, here I am, with three very lovely naked women who I love with all my heart, and I've been lucky enough to make love with two of them. I have money, and family ... I don't think my life could be any better."

"Two of them," said Fran suddenly. "You just said 'two of them'."

"What?" asked Bob.

"You said you made love with two of the lovely naked women in the room. That's me and Becca. But you said a minute ago that they did things after I went to sleep."

"Oh," said Bob smiling. "Val didn't want to have intercourse."

Fran looked interested. "Why not? What did you do?"

By now things had gone on long enough that the fact that they were all naked just seemed natural. Neither did talking about the things they did. Val explained it to Fran and described what she and Becca had done.

"Oooo I did that a little and it was fun, but then he made me stop to kiss me. Then things happened really fast. I don't know if I did it right. Teach me?!" she said to Val.

"But Fran you're too..."

"Do not say it!" shouted Fran. "I've had sex! I'm a woman now! Admit it!"

Val slumped and then grinned. "Okay, you're a woman. But when you turn up with a big fat belly, don't say I didn't warn you."

"You can't get pregnant from that!" said Fran firmly.

"No, but doing that makes you want to do what you just did, and that will get your belly big and fat."

"I'm kind of sore down there," said Fran. "I don't think I'll want to do that again for a while. I mean it was really fun and I'm glad I did it, and I love you very much Grandpa ... but for now I think I'd just like to learn how to give a good blow job."

The girls made a party of it, putting the two mattresses on the floor side by side so they could put Bob in the middle and have room to gather around him on their hands and knees. He propped up his head to watch as blow job 101 was put into session. He was amazed at how much thought Val and Becca put into performing fellatio as they very clinically explained what they did, and why, and how it felt, and how to tell when Bob was about to spurt. Fran wasn't happy about the idea of getting a mouthful, but both Val and Becca insisted that, once she'd done it with Bob, she'd be addicted. Both also said that that wasn't necessarily true about other men.

Then the demonstrations and practicing started and it wasn't clinical any more. Fran learned fast and adopted Val's technique of concentrating on the head while she stroked the shaft. That was because she gagged when she tried to take it down her throat like Becca could do. To their credit, when Bob was close, the older girls sat back and coached Fran while she brought him off. When he came, she jerked upright, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wild as the rest of his cum shot up into the air and then onto his chest as his prick leaned drunkenly. Val and Becca didn't laugh.

"Just swallow, Frannie," said Val. "Just do it."

Her eyes rolling Fran looked toward the toilet, but then gave a convulsive gulp and opened her mouth. Her eyes went unfocused as her taste buds reported and her mouth closed. She swallowed again and put her hand on her bare stomach. Then she licked her lips and swallowed a third time.

Finally, she smiled.

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