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 21

By the time they curled up like puppies together, it was five in the morning. As a result they slept late, or would have except the phone rang, waking Bob and Val up. Becca rolled away from Bob as he got up, but didn't wake up.

It was Sunny letting him know where everyone was and wanting to know if everything was all right, and why her daughter hadn't called her the night before.

"We got in pretty late," said Bob, "and we were all so tired we pretty much just went right to bed."

Sunny said she understood. Then: "I went out this morning and gave the news people coffee and told them you were in hiding and wouldn't be coming back for days. Actually I told them I didn't know when you'd be coming back. They didn't even try to interview me! Anyway, they left. I called Mom and she said she'd do the same thing. I think she's about ready to call a news conference or something just to get the media off our backs."

"I haven't been awake long," said Bob, "but I've been awake long enough to doubt that that will work."

"Well, you can bring them back," said Sunny. "I imagine you're probably tired of being around a bunch of teenaged girls."

"I love my great granddaughters," said Bob. "I don't think I'd ever get tired of being around them. Besides, they're fun to look at too."

Val came over and took the phone from Bob.

"Mom? Hi Mom. We're fine. We're not little girls any more Mom. You don't have to check up on us ... What? ... Of course we're being nice to him ... Yeah, we stopped at Wal-Mart and got some things. It's really beautiful up here in the mountains."

They talked on for a while and Val made it quite clear that they would be home when they got around to it, but that they weren't in a hurry. Finally she hung up.

"Why do parents worry so much?" she groused.

Bob walked up to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her soundly, thrusting his soft prick into the juncture of her legs. He cupped a breast and tweaked a nipple. Then he finally pulled back.

"I can't imagine." he said, smiling.

They got dressed and made breakfast and then the girls wanted to explore. Bob was still tired, having gotten only a couple of hours of sleep, so they accused him of being old and told him to take a nap while they went to see the sights. Bob was asleep within minutes of them leaving.

Within an hour the girls had run into Sally. Bob had told them about her and the book, and within minutes of meeting her they were all sitting around on the porch as Sally added to her store of knowledge about Bob's life, and how it had affected his family members.

The main reason they went back home that day was because Becca's date with Denny was that night. As soon as she got home she called her aunt to make sure she'd be ready on time too. Polly made a weak attempt to try to renege, but Becca wasn't having any of that. Finally Polly said she'd be ready.

Denny and Brian were supposed to pick Becca up first, and then go get Polly. As it turned out, Polly was so nervous that she got ready two hours early and then paced up and down and moaned about how stupid this all was until Francine chased her out of the house and told her to go be with Becca.

Gidget didn't help things any. When Polly showed up, Gidget took one look at her and snorted, saying that outfit would never do.

"You look like a frumpy old lady." she said to her sister.

"I am a frumpy old lady." moaned Polly.

"No you're not. Come on!" Gidget took Polly's hand and dragged her toward her bedroom. "Now, I think I have an outfit that will be just perfect..."

Becca grinned as the voices faded. She was a little worried herself. Now that the date was imminent, her self confidence was suffering a little. She had chosen a man's western style shirt that she'd gotten for a costume party the year before. She tied the tail in a knot under her breasts, leaving her midriff bare and put on a pair of tight short shorts. Her mother said she looked like a prostitute, but didn't try to make her change. She was fiddling with the buttons on the shirt, trying to figure out how many to leave undone. She was going braless tonight because it made her feel sexy.

She went to her bedroom and opened her jewelry box. It had her fake ID in it and she picked it up. "What am I thinking!" she thought. "I'm going out with a cop and my aunt, neither of whom is likely to let me drink anyway." She dropped the ID back in they box and turned to dab on some perfume behind her ears. She put a dab between her breasts too. She looked in the mirror and pulled the shirt tight across her breasts to see if her nipples showed through. They didn't, and she felt vaguely disappointed. She checked her watch ... fifteen minutes to go.

The doorbell rang.

Becca's head jerked up and she heard loud complaining voices from down the hall in her mother's room.

"I'll get it!" she yelled down the hallway and trotted to the door.

It was Denny. He stared at her.

"You're early!" she said, smiling. Her stomach was already doing flip flops.

"I guess I was excited." he said. "I haven't been on a date in a while."

"Where's Brian?" she asked.

"He's in the car," said Denny.

"Well tell him to come on in. Aunt Polly is here - plan B - and she's still getting ready."

Denny turned and waved, making hand signals. Becca heard a car door slam. She realized Denny was still standing on the porch.

"Well, come on in." she said, standing back.

"You look fabulous." he said as he passed her.

"Thank you sir." she said feeling more of those flip flops.

Brian bounded up the steps wanting to know what was going on. When he was told, he simply went in and sat down on the couch. Denny stood, looking around. Becca suddenly couldn't think of anything to say. She went to the hallway and bellowed "They're here!"

A door opened and Gidget's voice called out. "Almost done."

Gidget showed up first, walking down the stairs like the advance guard of a diplomat.

"She's just touching up her lipstick." she said. No one believed her. "I thought, since you all are going miniature golfing tonight, that she might look good with a retro look. She's worried you'll think she looks silly."

"Even if I did, Ma'am, it would be unprofessional to mention it," said Brian. "Nice to see you again Ma'am."

Gidget blushed. "If you're dating my sister you have to call me Gidget. It's a rule." she said, smiling.

"Yes Ma'am, Gidget Ma'am." teased Brian.

There was a noise behind Gidget and she turned around.

"Come on." she urged.

Gidget stepped out of the way as Polly came into view. Gidget had put her in Capri pants, that came to the middle of her calves. They were tight, with a wide shiny belt. Tucked into that was a blood red silk blouse that had a wide collar with long pointed ends. Her hair was up on top of her head, held together in some mysterious manner and she had long dangly earrings on that swayed as she stepped down. She was wearing high heels.

"I feel stupid." she said.

Brian stood up.

"Gidget?" he said. Both Polly and Gidget looked at him. "I know about Becca, but you didn't tell me you had another teenaged daughter."

Gidget giggled and Polly frowned. "If you're going to make fun of me then this date is already over."

"You're gorgeous," said Brian seriously. "If you don't go out with me tonight I might do something rash and self destructive."

Polly looked startled. Her cheeks went pink. Gidget pushed her toward Brian.

"Are we ready to go?" asked Denny.

"Yes!" said Becca. "Do I need a purse?" she asked.

"I'm driving," said Denny. "And us manly types are paying tonight. You're both gorgeous just like you are. I don't think so."

The miniature golf course was mixed in with a number of other entertainment and tourist places along US 50 outside of Placerville. It took an hour to get there, which gave them all time to relax and talk. Both Denny and Brian were attentive listeners and it wasn't too hard to get Polly started talking. She relaxed too as Brian began coaxing information out of her. In the front seat Becca flirted with Denny, reaching out to touch his thigh when she asked him a question and turning in her seat to face him so he could see down the gap in her shirt. She felt excited being on a date with a grown man.

Polly claimed not to know anything at all about golf, and her first few strokes suggested she was telling the truth. By the time they'd gotten to the 10th hole, Brian had used every opportunity to end up behind Polly, his arms around her, helping her stroke the ball, while his groin pressed into the tight fabric of the back of her Capris. Becca noticed that her aunt didn't make any real effort to get away from the pressure and spent a lot of time blushing and watching Brian as he played his own game. At the end of the game there were celebratory hugs and each man got a quick kiss on the lips.

Then they were off to find a drive-in where they could get chocolate shakes. The smells reminded them they were hungry, and it turned into burgers and fries and onion rings ... and chocolate shakes.

The girls were able to begin dragging information out of the men ... about their lives and their jobs ... what it was like being a cop. Brian claimed to have learned more working the first week as Denny's partner than he did in the whole police academy class he attended. Denny said that, for a wet-behind-the-ears rookie, Brian wasn't half bad.

All in all there was no pressure, and no pain, and all of them had a pretty great time. On the way back there was a little hand holding in both the front and back seats, and Polly sat a lot closer to Brian than on the trip up, but other than that there was no hanky panky. Polly's car was at Becca's, so they ended up there, standing on the porch. Becca set the stage by putting her arms around Denny's neck and pulling his face down for a kiss.

"That was fun." she said, when the kiss was over. "Tonight, I mean."

"The kiss wasn't bad either," said Denny, his hands sliding up Becca's back.

Four feet away Polly was anxious again. She wanted to kiss Brian, but felt silly. Brian pulled her up against him, but didn't try to kiss her.

"I had a good time tonight too." he said softly.

"Really?" asked Polly.

"I want to see you again." he said.

"Really?" she repeated herself.

Then he kissed her, long and hard, sliding his right hand to the tight pants and cupping one firm buttock. He squeezed it and she wiggled against him. She was breathing hard when it was over.

"Really." he said.

"Okay." she said softly.

They stared at each other for a few seconds and were suddenly kissing again. Like teenagers they made out in the dark of the front porch. Brian's hands roamed all over her back, but he restricted them to that area. She felt good in his hands. He hadn't been sure that dating an older woman would be a good idea, but her attitude at the hospital had twanged a string in him. He was very glad he'd decided to do this now.

Becca and Denny didn't stand and watch the other two. They did a little making out of their own. Denny's hands confirmed what he'd suspected all night long ... that she wasn't wearing a bra. He crushed her against him as her tongue began flicking against his.

Ten minutes later the men left. Both women stood and watched them drive away.

"Thank you baby," said Polly.

"What for?" asked Becca.

"For making me do this tonight."

"Had fun huh?"

"I haven't had fun like that for a long time. It's a good thing you were here." she said to her niece.

"Why's that?" asked Becca.

"Because that boy would have had me naked and screaming for more if you hadn't been here." She giggled conspiratorially.

"So ... we going to double date again next time?" asked Becca.

"We'd sure better." sighed Polly. "I haven't been this horny in as long as I can remember. I don't think it would be a good idea to go out with him alone."

Dr. Adams called and told Bob his test results were all in and asked him to come in. Bob returned to the hospital and went directly to Dr. Adams' office. Adams looked up tiredly from the piles of papers he was going over.

"This is as puzzling as anything I've ever seen." he sighed.

"It's pretty puzzling to me too," said Bob.

"You didn't age while you slept. All the tests show normal indications for a man in good health in his mid twenties," said the doctor. "Your daughters insist they didn't feed you. I don't think they're lying, but I can't see any way that this happened unless you were in suspended animation. Since there is no documented case of suspended animation in a human being, that doesn't make any sense either. But they couldn't have fed you without a feeding tube and, of course, there's no evidence they used that technology either. You didn't eliminate, but all that suggests is that you weren't fed. If you'd have been out for a week or two, all this would make perfect sense. But you weren't." He blinked. "It's almost like hibernation, except that you didn't use up your fat reserves."

The doctor stretched, yawning, and went on.

"That drops this whole thing into the realm of genetics. Genetic research has made amazing strides, but the human genome still hasn't been mapped completely, so the answer to this lies in one of several million genes that we don't understand yet."

"So," said Bob. "What do we do now?"

The doctor looked at him and frowned.

"I'm convinced that you have a gene that reacted to the alcohol you drank just before you fell asleep. You said it was home brew ... moonshine, I believe they used to call it."

Bob nodded.

"You know, the legend of Rip Van Winkle? Interesting similarity in names ... don't you think?..." The doctor stopped, like he was waiting for Bob to say something. Bob hadn't told Doctor Adams about the diary, or the fact that the man of legend was Bob's great great grandfather. He had enough problems trying to have a private life as it was, and if it got out that the man the media was calling Rip Van Winkle was, in fact, the direct descendent of that legend ... Well, who knew what would happen then?

When Bob didn't say anything Dr. Adams finally went on. "Well, anyway, in that legend, Mr. Van Winkle also drank from a keg of home brew. It was alleged that this home brew was made by fairies or something..."

"Little People." Bob interrupted. "Kind of like leprechauns."

"So you do know the story," said Adams looking piercingly at Bob.

"Please go on," said Bob, ducking the issue.

Adams stared at him a little longer and then spoke. "Yes, well anyway, he drank home brew and slept for twenty years. Of course no one examined him because he was a fictional character."

"What makes you think that?" asked Bob.

"That he was fictional?" asked Adams, his eyebrows rising. "Surely you don't think that story is true."

Bob thought about the thing that kept bugging him ... what if he fell asleep again? He needed to find out why it had happened. If there was a trigger he could avoid, he might be able to live a normal life. While he had adjusted, for the most part, to the age he was now in, if it happened again he might not be so lucky.

"What if..." he said slowly. "Just for the sake of argument ... what if that story were real ... and I was a direct descendant of that man? A hypothetical situation, of course ... but how would that affect the way you look at my case?"

Adams smiled a small tight smile.

"It would convince me completely that the answer is in your genes. That there is a gene you have that nobody else has, except perhaps your offspring, and it could be recessive in them, but a gene that, when affected, puts you into what could only be called a kind of hibernation or suspended animation. Except that this hibernation doesn't use any resources from your body. It would mean your heart beats only once every five minutes or so, if not in longer stretches. It would mean you took a breath only every half hour or so. And even then, it wouldn't explain where the energy came from to do even those functions. You're a modern miracle, Bob, and even the gene theory doesn't answer all the questions." The doctor stood up. "If that gene could be identified and used in therapies, it would change the entire world. It would revolutionize medicine completely."

Bob held up a hand. "How exactly would that help anybody?" he asked.

"Inoperable cancer, untreatable diseases, un-diagnosable afflictions, massive trauma victims ... the list would go on and on. What we don't have with those patients is time. Time can cure almost any disease. Treatments take time that we often don't have and in many cases we don't even have the treatment. But, given time, science always comes up with the answer to a given problem. If these people could be put into suspended animation, they would live until an answer for their condition was found. Look at Walt Disney. He had his body cryogenically frozen, waiting for science to come up with a way to reanimate his body. It's in a vault right here in California."

"You mean the Mickey Mouse guy?" asked Bob, amazed.

"The same one," said the doctor.

"So it wouldn't be used just to extend people's youth?" asked Bob.

"If it's what I think it is, that wouldn't even work," said Adams. You are aging normally again. In this situation, if you're asleep, you don't age. If you're awake, you do. It wouldn't do anybody any good to stay young while everybody else they knew aged normally. It just wouldn't have any application in those terms."

"But whatever it is ... it could save lives," said Bob.

"Definitely," said Adams. "Probably millions of lives eventually."

"So, what do you want to do to me?" asked Bob.

"That's the problem," said Adams heavily. "Science hasn't yet progressed to the point that we can identify the gene that's at work here. It could happen next year, or it could take another couple of decades. Once the whole human genome is mapped, then we can find the one we're looking for, because it will be the only gene like it in existence." The doctor looked startled. "Well I think it's the only one. Who knows? Others could have this gene too, and we just don't know it. History is full of stories of people being found dead, and then buried, and then somebody digs up the coffin and there are obvious indications that the corpse tried to get out after it was buried."

"So we have no idea whether I'll go back to sleep or not," said Bob.

"We don't know what triggers the gene ... turns it on. Or off, for that matter," said the doctor.

"But you mentioned Rip Van Winkle," said Bob "And moonshine."

"Oh, that," said the doctor looking at him closely again. "It was just that the two stories so closely parallel each other. Your hypothetical situation would strengthen the hypothesis that the home brew was the trigger ... if it weren't hypothetical." There was a brief pause. "It is hypothetical isn't it Bob?"

"Not nearly as hypothetical as I wish it were," said Bob softly.

Adams' mouth dropped open and his face went ashen. "But how?..." he gasped.

"There is a journal," said Bob. "It was found in a desk given to me as a wedding present by my great grandfather. I didn't know about the journal then. He gave me a warning too."

"What?" asked Adams.

"He said to get an insurance policy that would provide for my family if I were indisposed for a long time. They had just started marketing those policies a few years before that and he said he wished he'd have had something like that available when he was younger. That's all he said. He was very insistent about it."

"And the journal?" asked Adams, so excited he could barely sit still.

"If I tell you about the journal, and you tell others, it could turn my life completely upside down in a way that I might never be able to live a normal life. I need you to promise me that this will stay between you and me," said Bob.

Adams thought. He thought hard. Finally he said this: "Bob, at the point in time when the human genome is mapped fully, it will be horrendously expensive to find the gene I believe is there. I may need some ammunition to get the funding to do that. At that point, if you are actually related to a real person who ... slept for twenty years ... like you did ... I may have to divulge that information. It will be too important to medicine to keep secret."

"I have fifty million dollars," said Bob simply. "Would it take more than that?"

"Quite possibly," said Adams seriously. "But the holder of a patent on therapy using that gene would soon be the richest man on the planet. Trust me on that."

"But if I funded the research, you wouldn't have to tell anybody about Rip?" asked Bob.

"No," said Adams. "I mean yes ... I mean I would be able to sit on that information as part of doctor/patient privilege."

"Rip left his journal in the desk, in a secret compartment," said Bob quietly. "It has the whole story in it in his own handwriting. The family changed their name, dropping the "Van" to avoid the notoriety after he woke up. They didn't want anything to do with him. He moved on, started a new family, and wrote it all down. It's signed with his original Dutch name."

Adams swallowed twice before he could make his mouth work. "Is there any chance ... any way in the whole world that I could get a peek at this journal?"

"I read from it occasionally to the women - my descendents - who live in Circleton. You could come over the next time we bring it out and look at it there. I can't let it out of my possession, of course."

"Of course," said Adams. "I'd give anything to see it."

"You can see it for free," said Bob.

Several of the women, when they learned what Adams had told Bob, were unhappy that their relationship to Rip had been let outside the family. It took some doing, but Bob said they had to trust the doctor, and could, at least for the present, because there was no application for the knowledge they had thus far. In short, Dr. Adams didn't have a motive to "spill the beans" as Bob put it.

It had been a couple of weeks since they had gathered for a reading. That, and the fact that Martha, Sunny and Polly wanted to meet the doctor to evaluate him for themselves, resulted in a date being set for another reading.

Two nights later the clan gathered. They ate dinner together and waited for Adams to arrive. When he did he was a little overawed by the women. It is difficult for any man to enter the world of nine women who establish the ambiance of a given encounter. When he was grilled by Martha and Sunny, he tried to help them understand that he couldn't tell anyone about Bob and Rip without Bob's approval or he'd lose his license to practice medicine.

"You could get a lot of money for this story from any number of media representatives." suggested Sunny.

"I don't think they would pay me enough to make up for the ten or twenty years I have left before I think about retirement," said Adams. "Besides, if I get my license pulled, I would not be eligible to work with Bob when we do get the chance to use his genes ... your genes, actually ... to revolutionize medicine. Think about it." he said. "There's the immortality of being the doctor who eventually brings this miracle to the world ... or twenty thousand quick ones for appearing on Oprah. Which would you choose if you were me?"

That pretty much ended the interrogation, and Adams was finally showed the journal. He held it reverently, glancing through it and going to the end, where he saw the same signature that had awed the others before him.

He handed it back to Bob, who sat down and opened it to where he had left off. Everyone else rustled around, finding just the right position to be comfortable in while they listened. Adams was sandwiched between Betty and Becca, and looked happy.

"I entered the clearing," Bob read, "and was amazed that, despite all the activity I could see as these wee folk played their game of ninepins, that the only noise I could hear was the noise of the ball hitting the pins. That noise was explicitly tied to the pins. I heard it only when the pins were hit, or hit each other, but what it sounded like was thunder. Between peals, they didn't seem to speak, and wore looks of soberness that made my spirit quail. They were playing at the game, but looked as serious as if it were important work."

Rip's account went on to say how, when the players saw him they stopped and stared at him, as if he shouldn't be there. Then the man with the keg opened it and poured it into large flagons as the bowlers approached. He did not offer one to Rip, though Rip saw there were more flagons filled than there were men in the clearing. They quaffed the drink thirstily, and Rip told of how dry his tongue felt, and how golden the liquid was that spilled down the cheeks and beards of the little men as they tipped their flagons upward recklessly.

Then they went back to their game, leaving him alone.

As they played Rip looked at the stump where there sat three bronze flagons, brimming with the golden nectar that had come from the keg. He couldn't resist, and tasted just a little from one. He recognized instantly that it tasted like the brews made from old family recipes that came from the old country, where crops raised below sea level and protected by dikes tasted different than those grown elsewhere. And the brews made from those crops tasted different too.

"I sampled the brew again when I thought they didn't see," wrote Rip. "and yet again until that flagon had suddenly gone dry. Still the thunder rolled as the pins were knocked down and the little men pursued their serious game. I had a thirst such as I'd never had in my life, and there were two more flagons sitting there, going to waste. I confess that I drank them too, and my head swam and the world began to buck and roll all around me, as if the earth shifted, though my feet were firmly planted on solid unmoving ground."

Bob paused dramatically before going on in an almost whisper.

"It was then that a nap appealed to me, and I lay down to take one. My last thought was that Wolf had deserted me, and that his back would have made a wonderful pillow, as it had so many times before."

Bob closed the book with a slap of pages and grinned. "You know, I had some of my cousin's home brew, made with special ingredients from an old family recipe. I drank it as I lay there in my Barca Lounger, getting ready for a nap." He looked around seriously. "We might, as a family, want to pay particular attention to what kind of distilled spirits we drink from now on."

Oddly, that night, for the first time, no one begged for him to read more. They all knew what came next ... the long sleep, and the waking that would completely undo Rip's life. Only Doctor Adams was immune from the melancholy that set in. He was invited to stay the night, so he could examine the journal.

When Martha got up the next morning, he was bent over the table, snoring softly where he had fallen asleep poring over the diary. She had the sudden fear that he had entered the same kind of sleep Rip and Bob had, just by touching the book.

She sighed with relief when he snorted and jerked at her touch.

Chapter 22

As time went on and Bob was slowly forgotten by the world again, the need for him to stay at the cabin waned. Still, it had been such a peaceful place that he had Sally make inquiries about buying either a cabin or a lot for the family to build one on to use as a get-away place. One of the original cabins, larger than most, had fallen into disrepair over the years as the owner aged and spent less and less time there. Bob was able to purchase it and had contractors go through it, updating the electrical and plumbing systems and putting a new roof on it. It was a log cabin, and the exterior needed professional work too.

Being frugal, Bob identified things that the family members could do, mostly interior work, and rather than paying a contractor to do them, and enlisted the aid of the women to do those things. That was how Becca and Polly ended up deciding to invite Denny and Brian to the cabin for a working date. Both men agreed.

On a Saturday morning, the clan descended on the new cabin early, to get as much done as possible before the sun was high. While it didn't get nearly as hot up in the mountains as it did down in Sacramento, you could still work up quite a sweat once noon approached. Denny and Brian showed up around nine and stood in the doorway staring around at the women. Four of them were putting up sheetrock, while two more followed with strips of cedar that they nailed to the wall in a diagonal pattern that made diamond shapes. Bob and the remaining two women were tearing apart a big feather bed frame to sand the rust off of it in preparation for repainting it. The huge, thick mattress lay in a heap, moth-eaten and filthy.

Sunny saw the newcomers first and called out a greeting. Polly, who had been helping Bob with the bed, smiled shyly and went to meet them. Becca was holding a piece of sheet rock to the wall while Fran drove screws with a cordless drill, so she couldn't stop what she was doing. She sang out "Hi Denny" with so much joy in her voice that some of the others stopped and looked at her.

"What?" she said, looking around.

"You sure sound glad to see him," said her mother. Gidget had waited up for her daughter, as if Becca were sixteen instead of eighteen, and had demanded a blow by blow account of the date she had gone on with Polly and the men. Polly had warned her it would probably happen, so she kept her temper and answered all her mother's questions. Still, she had been so bubbly and happy that Gidget was still anxious.

"Look at him!" said Becca smiling. "He's gorgeous!"

Gidget muttered something under her breath that no one could understand and pointed at the mattress.

"We have a new cover. The feathers need to be transferred to the new bag. You boys think you can handle being covered with goose feathers?"

Denny walked over to her and stood close enough to invade her personal space. She leaned away from him by habit.

"For you?" he said, his voice mellow. "I'd stand for the tar and the feathers."

Gidget blinked and then snorted. "You're a silver tongued little man. In case you were wondering that does not make a mother feel better." She smiled a hesitant smile, though.

"Mom," complained Becca, drawing the sound out. "You're embarrassing me. I'm not a little girl any more."

"That's the problem." muttered Gidget, going back to her cedar strips.

The men were intelligent enough to go outside to try to deal with the feathers. At first they tried stuffing the new mattress cover with double handfuls of feathers, but they soon found that they were, indeed, covered with the fluffy uncontrollable things. It was Brian who got the idea to stuff the whole old bag down inside the new one and then pull it out a little at a time, allowing the feathers to spill into the new cover. Still, when they triumphantly brought the new mattress back into the house they looked like they had been tarred and feathered, with bits of white fluff clinging to every exposed surface.

"Just like little boys!" muttered June, who loudly announced she had just swept the cabin for the third time that morning and now it was being covered in bits of white fluff. "I swear my boys could bring half of the outside in with them when they came in from playing."

"We weren't playing," said Brian, his voice overfilled with injury. "We were working hard! Those feathers must weigh ... I don't know ... ounces and ounces and ounces!" He grinned.

"Just what we need in this family," joked Martha, "a comedian."

Polly blushed and stammered. "Aunt Martha! We've only been on one date!"

"Well," drawled Martha, "I 'spect he was a lot more lively on that date than Roger would have been." She smiled sweetly.

"He was not!" squealed Polly, blushing harder. "He didn't do a single thing!"

Brian covered his face with his hands and moaned. "My reputation is ruined! I bragged to the whole force what a sweet kisser you were and now I am uncovered."

"You better not have!" squealed Polly, actually dancing with tension.

Laughter, combined with Brian uncovering a grinning face finally got through to Polly that he had been joking and her face flamed so hard she looked suddenly sunburned.

"Oh! You ... you..." she shouted and turned around to face the wall. She almost hit her fingers with the first hammer blow she tried and jumped. There was more laughter as Brian went to her and put his arms around her to "help" her hammer in the nail. She wiggled against him, pushing with her buttocks.

"You get away from me you horrible man." she said, and then giggled.

"I'm just trying to help." he whined.

"I know what you're trying to do." muttered Gidget.

Bob laughed. "I think you need to go on a couple of dates too Gidget. You sure seem to know what to expect from a man."

Now it was Gidget whose face went red and she frowned as hard as she could. She pointed at Brian, whose crotch was firmly planted against Polly's buttocks as she pushed back against him.

"Just lookat them! Why they're ... they're ... they're almost doing it right here in front of everybody!"
Polly gave an extra hard push, laughing now and knocked Brian off center so he had to take a step back. Polly faced her cousin grinning.

"You're just jealous." she taunted.

Bob held up his hands as Gidget took in an angry breath.

"You two girls stop that. You're acting like teenagers."

Neither woman had had much of a father figure in their lives, and you'd have thought that Bob barking at them would have slid right off, but both women looked contrite and went back to their work. Polly took time on the way to push Brian towards the door.

"Go outside and get those feathers off of you. Then find something to do instead of tormenting us." she said, but there was no anger in her voice. Again, her smile was shy, almost girlish.

By noon everyone was ready to take a break. They had covered all but about six feet of the walls with the new sheetrock and the bed frame was outside leaning against various trees and the porch, its new coat of spray paint glistening in the dappled sunlight coming through the trees.

Bob broke out beers from a cooler full of ice. He handed out pop to those who didn't want beer.

"Lunch!" he announced. "I'm famished."

Betty had made sandwiches, and had little baggies with carrot sticks and celery sticks in them. There was a big tray of deviled eggs and several containers of potato salad. She unpacked everything on a beaten up old dining room table in the middle of the room. Her specialty was called ants on a log, and consisted of celery sticks, filled with peanut butter, and topped with a line of raisons.

"I want to go on a picnic." announced Becca. "I'm supposed to be on a date, you know."

"I want to go!" chimed Fran.

"This is a date!" said Becca firmly. "Aunt Polly and Brian and Denny and I are the only ones going on this picnic."

"I never get to have any fun!" pouted Fran.

"Not true," said Bob with a gleam in his eye.

Fran looked at him, and at the tight grin his lips were trying not to expose and blushed. She suddenly had great interest in the pattern of the cedar on the wall next to her.

Bob waved his hand. "Denny showed me a lovely hiking trail the other day with a little waterfall and everything. Why don't you kids take your lunch up there and have your picnic."

While food was being separated out and repackaged for the picnickers Bob slipped down to Sally's and borrowed a backpack and two blankets. He stuffed the blankets into the bottom of the pack and took it back. The food was put in on top, with cans of soda and the two couples left.

"I still don't think this is a good idea." muttered Gidget.

Val talked around a bite of sandwich.

"I think you are jealous Aunt Gidget. Zack has a lot of nice friends at the station house. I bet I could get you a date with one of them."

Gidget turned on her niece. "And you, young lady ... you aren't setting much of an example either ... going out with a man old enough to be your father."

Val didn't flinch. She swallowed carefully and then replied.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told him. I have a father. Even if I don't know much about him, I don't need another one. Zack is just a man, and I like him a lot. He's fun and witty and very much a gentleman. He hasn't done a single thing I didn't want him to do. If you weren't so dried up and bitter you could be having fun like me and your daughter and Aunt Polly!"

"That's enough of that," said Martha firmly before Gidget could make her angry retort. "You apologize to your aunt, Valerie. That was uncalled for."

Val held her head high. "I'm sorry. I think it's true, but I shouldn't have said it."

Gidget's face went through a series of looks that made it twist with what almost looked like frustration.

"Is that really what you think I am? Dried up and bitter?" she asked.

"I said that's enough," said Martha again.

"I'm not." Gidget said, ignoring her aunt. "I have feelings. I get lonely. I just know how men are. They take from you and leave you on your own. If I met a man I thought I could trust I'd love to have dates and ... and ... and ... Oh, never mind." she said dejectedly.

June went to her daughter and took her chin in her hand. "You think all men are pigs?" she asked softly, staring into Gidget's eyes. They were brimming with tears. "How about your grandfather? Do you think my father is a pig too?"
Gidget flinched and her eyes darted to Bob, who was standing nearby, just looking at her.

"That's not what I meant." she said, her voice a little whiny. "Of course not. I love Grandpa."

"So is he the only man in the world who's not a pig?" asked June. "He's rich now. He could go anywhere he wanted to ... live any kind of life he chose."

"But that's different." whined Gidget. "He loves us. I trust him. He would never toss a woman out like she was a dirty rag."

"You had a bad experience with a man who took advantage of you," said June soothingly. "But he was just one man among millions. And you were young. Daddy's not the only good man in the world. I think Denny and Brian are both pretty good men. Why would they come up here and do what they did today if all they wanted was ... well, if all they wanted was what you seem to think is all any man wants?"

"Ohhhh, I don't know." whined Gidget. "I don't know what to think." She pushed her mother back and wiped her eyes. "Besides, I haven't been on a date in almost twenty years. I wouldn't even know how to behave!"

"Maybe Polly could give you a few pointers," said June. "She seems to be having a pretty good time with that young man."

Gidget barked a forced laugh. "Right! That's all I need, is for my younger cousin to tell me how to handle a man."

"Well," said Bob suddenly. "I'm in the same pickle. Look at me. Here I am, looking like I'm twenty five, an eligible widower, and I have no earthly idea how to treat a woman on a date these days. Don't feel so bad."

June turned to look at Bob and a gleam came into her eye.

"There's your answer darling." she said to Gidget. "You and Daddy can go on some dates and practice on each other."

Gidget blinked and then looked shocked and finally laughed. "Me and my grandpa, out on a date!" She laughed again. "You might actually have something there Mom. I can't think of anybody I'd rather go out with on my first date in twenty years than a man who hasn't had a date in over fifty!" She began to laugh hysterically, dragging in great gasps of air as the tension and emotion fled her body through the guffaws. She had to sit down on the floor as she grew too weak to stand.

"Should I be offended?" asked Bob striking a dignified pose.

Gidget waved at him repeatedly as she continued to laugh.

"No..." she gasped. "I'm sorry ... I didn't ... mean it ... that way."

"All right then," said Bob, his voice serious. "What say we go for a moonlight drive tonight. It can be our first ... date."

Gidget went into another paroxysm of laughter at that, waving her hands in the air breathlessly as she lay down on the floor and rolled. The others just stared at her. Finally she stopped laughing and just giggled as she got some air into her lungs.

"You're ... on!" she giggled.

The trail that led to the waterfall wasn't all that long, maybe half a mile, and it was easy going as the path was well worn, except for a couple of steep places. Denny and Becca pulled ahead, as it was a little rougher for Polly, who wasn't quite as used to walking that fast. She turned around to apologize to Brian.

"I'm sorry, but that's what you get for going out with an old woman."

Brian, who had been mesmerized by the shifting buttocks underneath Polly's terrycloth short shorts, looked up, grinning at being caught ogling her butt.

"I'm enjoying the view immensely." he said. "I'm not in a hurry."

Polly pinked up, but felt a glow in her chest at being ogled.

"Just because I pushed it at you doesn't mean you can stare at it." she chided.

"I can't decide if I like looking at it more ... or feeling it against me." he said candidly. "Besides, you're perfectly safe. I heard you myself. I don't do anything." He grinned.

"You didn't really tell anybody I'm a ... what did you say? ... sweet kisser?" she asked, forging ahead.

"Just Denny. He said the same thing about Becca. We think it runs in the family."

Polly looked over her shoulder at him, through her lashes. He was making her feel pretty good. She came to a steep place and began to take longer strides, climbing. Her foot slipped on the gravel and she started sliding backwards. She suddenly felt his hands on her buttocks as he pushed, stabilizing her. She stopped, on all fours now and looked back over her shoulder.

"I'm just trying to help." he whined, repeating his earlier statement.

Polly felt a deeper flush at the feel of his hands. When he had squeezed her butt on that first date she had felt like a teenager again. She knew she should tell him to stop, but all of a sudden she just didn't want to.

"Well push then." she said, her voice low and filled with emotion.

He kept his hands firmly planted on her buttocks until he slipped himself. By then she was able to grab a sapling and turned around to giggle as he labored up the steep slope. She held the small tree with both hands behind her, making her breasts jut out. When he got to her he pinned her against the tree by putting his arms around her to hold it.

"We're still not a hundred percent sure about that kissing thing." he said, his lips inches from hers. "We only got a couple of kisses last time."

"You're terrible." she breathed into his mouth. "You must have kissed me ten times."

"I lost count." he said. "Have to start over, I guess."

He leaned forward and she met his lips with hers. She let go of the sapling to put her hands around his waist and kissed him back hungrily. He pulled on the tree, crushing his chest to her breasts.

He pulled back and licked his lips as she stared into his eyes.

"That's one." he said.

They were up to four when they heard shouting up the trail, Denny yelling to find out where they were.

"We have to go." Polly said breathlessly.

"I don't want to," said Brian.

"We have to." she insisted gently.

"I might lose count again." he threatened.

"We can start over at the waterfall." she smiled.

As she scrambled on up the trail yelling that they were coming. She had to half run as Brian kept reaching out to pat her butt, whining that he was just trying to help. She giggled and slapped at his hands ineffectually and twice ran ahead and then stopped to wag her butt at him, laughing as he leered and growled, chasing her. She was running full tilt when she turned a bend and ran into Denny and Becca, who were engaged in a hot kiss of their own, their hands running all over each other's backs and buttocks.

"Here now!" she laughed, pulling Denny's hands away from her niece. "Stop molesting my niece."

Brian came around the same corner, bent over low, hands in claws reaching out and grabbed her butt.

"Gotcha!" he growled.

Polly squealed and jumped as Becca laughed.

"Stop that!" she said in an imitation of Polly's voice. "Stop molesting my auntie!"

Brian stood up and put his hands behind him, moving his loins forward and back as he looked up into the treetops.
"Who ... me?" he said in a little boy voice. "I'm not doin' nuthin'."

There was laughter all around.

They were in a clearing of sorts, except that there was a huge pine tree in the middle of it, with thick branches low to the ground. Becca insisted that they put a blanket on each side of the tree, so "they could have a little privacy" as they ate. She was surprised when Polly didn't object. Once the blankets were settled and the food unpacked each couple sat down on their own blanket.

Brian started to take a bite of his sandwich and then stopped.

"Wait! We can't eat yet." he said.

"Why not?" asked Polly, sitting demurely with her legs folded and out to one side.

"I'm all sweaty from the climb." he said, whipping off his shirt. He was well muscled and in shape. "And everybody knows you can't go swimming after you eat. You'll get cramps."

Polly's eyes went wide at his smooth muscled chest.

"But we didn't bring suits." she said.

"Who needs a suit?" he tossed off carelessly. "We're all grown up boys and girls here. Let's go skinny dipping."

"You're insane!" Polly's voice was high and squeaked.

On the other side of the tree Denny looked at Becca and raised an eyebrow in question.

She looked at him and lowered her eyes. "I ... think I'd like that." she said softly. She looked at him and saw hunger in his eyes. A warm bubble began building in her belly.

"I know I'd like that." he said, just as softly.

Becca repacked their food and they stood, facing each other, eyes glued to the other as he removed his shirt and she unbuttoned hers. She had on a plain white bra that day, and plain white cotton panties under her cargo shorts. She watched as Denny's fingers went to his belt and undid it, and then undid the button of his shorts. Her fingers went to her own fastenings and they pushed their shorts down together. His briefs were tented when he stood up, and Becca felt her pussy clench. She reached behind her and undid her bra and he watched as she let it slide down almost, but not quite off her breasts. She held it there with one hand, some inner instinct making her feel shy.

He just stood and looked, his thumbs hooked in his underwear.

Finally she bit her lip and let the bra fall.

"Ohhhh Becca," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "You're so beautiful."

Her pussy spritzed again and she reached for her panties. Again, they pushed their last garment down at the same time, their eyes locked. When they stood his prick shot out from his groin, rock hard. He didn't apologize and watched as her eyes dropped to it and fastened on it.

He held out his hand to her and she reached for it slowly.

On the other side of the tree Brian was teasing Polly by unsnapping and unzipping his shorts with agonizing slowness. The whole time she was telling him he was crazy, and that she wasn't about to get naked in the middle of a forest with her niece "right over there." Brian let the closure of his pants come open, exposing dark brown hair. He wasn't wearing any underwear.

"I guess I'll just have to go all by myself." he said. He pushed gently on the waistband of his pants, exposing more of his groin.

Polly's hands came up and covered her eyes. Brian wanted to laugh as she peeked through fingers that were not closed tightly against each other. He liked this woman's innocence and decorum. It turned him on something fierce. Her willingness to let him fondle her buttocks, and her passionate kisses told him more than her hands covering her face - insubstantially - did. He pushed harder and exposed what she had done to him.

Polly stared between her fingers at the first adult male penis she had paid any attention to in a long time. Roger walked around the house naked sometimes, but she paid him no mind any more. She tried not to think what he did with his penis when it got hard.

But this penis wasn't intended for another man. This penis was hard for ... her.

She felt a shudder course through her body and her nipples suddenly tingled in a way she'd almost forgotten. He was magnificent, standing there in the dappled sunlight. He looked like some Greek statue. There was a shriek from Becca and she jumped, her hands coming down from her eyes as she and Brian saw Becca and Denny's naked bouncing butts running toward the pool of water that was fed by the small waterfall. They ran splashing and laughing into the water and Becca stopped like a statue, almost overbalancing until Denny's hand stopped her.

"It's freezing!" she screamed.

"It comes from snowmelt, silly!" crowed Denny, and he let go and pushed her.

Becca's arms windmilled as she fell splashing. She screamed again and scrambled back to her feet, hugging her chest under her breasts. Her nipples were suddenly tight and crinkled and about half an inch long. She looked outraged and then grinned and leaned over to start throwing handfuls of water at Denny, who was standing and laughing. He danced, trying to get out of the way and his stiff prong bobbed in the sunlight.

"We need to cool that off!" squealed Becca, throwing a double handful of water at his groin. He covered his penis and then jumped, rushing toward her. They grappled and he took them both sideways, back down into the freezing water as Becca screeched and laughed.

Polly looked up at Brian, who stood watching and smiling. Her pussy clenched at the sight of that marvelous stiff prick that was hard - she couldn't get over it - because of ... her!

"We need to cool that off too." she said, pointing at his cock.

Suddenly she wanted to be naked too ... to romp and play ... to be naughty ... to have an excuse to keep him naked so she could drink in his beauty. She stood and feverishly started tearing at her clothing. She had a sudden attack of doubt as she dropped her bra, and felt her age. She knew her stomach wasn't as flat as it had been ten years ago when she was this boy's age. She knew her breasts didn't stand as tall and firm as Becca's did. She covered them with an arm, standing in only her panties and looked at the ground, no longer sure she should do this.

Brian appeared where she was looking, down on one knee, his hands on her hips. His fingers gripped the waistline of her panties and he looked up into her face.

"Becca's not the only beautiful woman in this clearing." he said softly, his eyes telling her he meant that. His fingers pulled at her panties and he smiled. "I'm just trying to help." he said.

Polly felt a rush of gratitude. She didn't believe him, but his effort to make her feel special and beautiful made her insides melt. She let her arm fall slowly as she felt her panties being dragged to her knees. She reached out and put her hand on his head to steady herself as she lifted one foot, exposing her most secret place. Still, though, he looked at her eyes. Somehow that felt even more erotic than if he'd have looked at what he was uncovering.

"I feel so old." she moaned.

He stood up and put his open palm under his erection.

"Does it look to you like I think you're old." he asked.

"I can't believe I'm standing here naked with a strange man." she breathed. "Who has an erection!" she moaned.

"If you don't go swimming I'm going to have to kiss you again." he said.

Polly flinched at the image of them clasping, naked, his lips against hers. If he did that now she'd lie down and spread her legs like a slut. She just knew she'd beg him to take her right then and there. She was frozen by indecision. She wanted that right this instant, but she knew it was crazy.

"Come on." he said, holding his hand out. "Let's go cool off."

Thankfully she took his hand. How could it be that a strong, healthy young man had more self control than she did? She let herself be pulled along, her mind warring with itself.

The water stopped all that. It was freezing. She danced, lifting one foot and then the other out of the water as he pulled her along, acting like it was nothing.

"Take a deep breath." he warned, grasping her shoulders.

"No!" she gasped, seeing his intent to pull her sideways, like Denny had done to Becca.

"Yes!" he laughed as they toppled.

Polly got a ragged breath in, but it blew right back out as the icy water inundated her body. They both scrambled right back up as she gasped and spluttered. She felt exhilarated as the warm sunlight hit her goose-pimpled skin and looked down to see her own thick brown nipples sticking up from her areolas like thimbles. She shook her body like a dog and saw her breasts wobble. Her head turned to see Becca and Denny in a hot embrace, standing thigh deep in the water, their arms around each other as they kissed long and deep. She turned to see Brian's grinning face and lunged for him. His arms enfolded her and his prick slapped up against her naked and cold pussy lips as she sought his lips. She was lost, and she knew it, but it was the feeling of what freefall in a parachute jump must be like as she crushed his body to hers with amazing force.

As the kiss went on Polly realized her hips were moving, back and forth, his prick sliding along her pussy lips as she dryfucked him. His hands on her back felt like fire and her tongue drove into his mouth seeking his. He pulled his lips from hers to move his across her cheek to her throat and she let her head hang back, her wet hair hanging in strings as he kept going to her shoulder and then down her left breast. She wanted to wail as his prick was pulled from her tightly clasping thighs, but then his mouth sucked in the thimble-sized nipple and she whined with pleasure as he suckled it. He stopped and his eyes fixed on hers.

"It's really too cold to swim." he said. He pulled her toward the shore.

She went with him, helpless and eager at the same time. She knew he would take her to the blanket ... would lie her down. She knew she would spread her legs wantonly for him. She knew he would hulk over her and that she would reach for the thing she needed so badly ... wanted more than anything else in the world right now. She tore her eyes away from his and pulled him, running, her bare feet pricked by gravel and pine needles until they were to the blanket. She dropped to her hands and knees, sweeping the food aside and rolling.

He was right there, on top of her as soon as she rolled to her back, his knees not waiting, forcing her thighs open as he got into position.

Then he stopped.

She lay panting under him, her legs spread as she knew they would be, her hands on his waist. He loomed over her face and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Do you want this?" he asked softly.

"Ohhhh yes!" she moaned, reaching for him.

He felt huge in her hand, strong and hard and she pulled. Her groan as he slotted the head and it began to press apart her tight flesh sounded like she was being tortured. He kept up slow, steady pressure, impaling her slowly until his wet pubes meshed with hers and his hips gave a little wiggle.

Polly felt shame at the sound she made in her throat, and the adult woman in her ... the aunt in her, couldn't help but roll her head to see if Becca was watching her debauchery. She saw Denny standing, now calf deep in the water, leaning back, his hands on Becca's waist. She had climbed up on him and hung, impaled herself, legs wrapped around his buttocks, her eyes staring into Denny's face as he bunched thick muscles in his thighs and bounced her on his prod.
Polly felt sweet release from shame and turned back to Brian.

"Take me." she said hoarsely.

"With pleasure." he grunted.

Then he began fucking her.

Polly had forgotten what it was like to be filled like this. She must have, because if she had remembered she would have found some man to do this with long before now. Her body screamed its satisfaction with being made love to. It didn't matter that it was in view of her niece. It didn't matter that it was in the open air. It didn't matter that the prick inside her was ten years or more younger than she was. Her body craved that thick rod ... its movement in her tight sheath ... the prodding of the mouth to her womb. She felt like a woman again for the first time in years. It didn't even matter that the wonderful hard thing that was making her crazy was naked ... that it would soon spurt dangerous sperm into her unprotected womb. Something in her craved that too, and she yearned for the hot, wet bath that would come from that rutting prick.

She encouraged him, telling him to keep going ... to never stop. Then, before she was ready, her orgasm burst upon her consciousness and she writhed under him, the feelings more intense than anything she could remember. Her pussy spasmed and he groaned as it tightened and loosened around him.

"Ohhhh Polly," he sighed as he drove in and stopped.

She felt that warm bath and thrust her hips up to greet it.

He started rutting again, and the warmth spread all over her pussy as his ejaculation coated her whole length. She pulled at his head, wanting to kiss him as he gave her his gift. They panted through their noses, not wanting to break the kisses they traded to breath. He gave a few convulsive thrusts more as the last of his sperm entered her body, and sagged down onto her. She even welcomed his weight pinning her to the blanket, and didn't care that she had to labor for breath. But he rolled quickly, pulling her with him to their sides, still kissing, his prick still firmly in her pussy. With mixed feelings of remorse and joy, she admitted to herself that she was his ... she'd do this again and again and again ... if he would. Visions of him crooking his finger at her, and her running into his arms naked filled her mind as she licked at his lips and their kisses became shorter, more frequent, and then nibbles at each other's lips and tongues.

His head fell onto his shoulder and his eyes closed.

"It's never been like that before." he panted.

His statement made her bold. "Not bad for an old woman, huh?"

His eyes snapped open and he kissed her hungrily again.

When he pulled back he said "This absolutely cannot be our last date."

She smiled tiredly, feeling the overwhelming pleasure of knowing a man wanted her at her age.

"Oh it won't be." she sighed. "You can just bet on that. You're going to do that to me again, mister nice policeman." She kissed him briefly. "Only longer."

"Good." he sighed back. "I brought my handcuffs along, just in case, but I didn't really want to have to use them."

They looked up to see Denny and Becca walking out of the pool, hand in hand. Their bodies sparkled with drops of water in the sun. Even from fifteen feet away Polly could see the stream of thick white that drooled down one of Becca's inner thighs. Polly wondered briefly if Becca was on the pill. She doubted it, not with Gidget as her mother. She felt a tweak of danger for her niece, and then wanted to laugh. She, herself, was years away from menopause, and had just taken what felt like a cup of hot spunk deep inside her. She thought briefly about the possibility that she might be pregnant, and looked at Brian.

"You know, I didn't plan on doing this." she said.

"Why do you think I brought the handcuffs?" he smiled.

"I'm not on the pill Brian." she said. "I quit taking them when I found out my husband was gay. I don't do this sort of thing any more."

"Oh yes you do," said Brian, pushing his wilted prick against her. It had slipped out as they kissed. He looked at her. "Why did you stay married?"

She rolled to her back, no longer worried about being naked in public. Her breasts slid gently apart, but not too much.

"Oh, I don't know. I was depressed, and there was Fran to think about. I couldn't face trying to meet another man as a single mother I suppose. I certainly wouldn't have expected to meet a man like you." she said, gazing up into the treetops.

"Why?" he asked. "You're beautiful, intelligent. I know a hundred men who would kill to be where I am right now."

"You're so young ... and I'm so old." she said, rolling her head to look at him.

He frowned a tiny frown. "I meet all kinds of people. Some of them look like Hells Angels, but have hearts of gold. Some of them look perfectly respectable and pander their eight year old daughters for money. I learned a long time ago not to judge a book by its cover and I'm still a rookie." He stared at her. "I'm interested in you for who you are, not your age, or even how good looking you are ... though I'm pretty happy about that, I have to admit."

"So running your naughty hands all over my body when you searched me didn't have anything to do with ... this?" she asked.

He grinned. "I liked your spunk. I liked your outrage. You were ... you are ... a decent woman. I just got you in a situation where I could take advantage of the fact that you haven't had a man in a long time." He leaned over to kiss one nipple, not so hard now as it was before. "But I wouldn't have done that if I wasn't interested in you as a person."

"How ... deeply are you interested in me?" she asked, nervously. "As a person." she added.

"I like you more than any woman I've been exposed to since High School." he said, his face straight. "I don't know if I've ever been in love or not, but I've never felt like this about a woman."

"You hardly know me." she objected.

"That's what the hundred other dates we're going to go on are for." he said.

"Hundred?" she asked, thrilled.

"For starters." he said.

"I guess I'd better get an appointment with my doctor." she said.

"Unless you want more children, that might be a good idea."

"What about you? Have you ever wanted children?" She was nervous to ask that question too for some reason.

"Constantly." he said. "I've always wanted my own baseball team."

Polly laughed. "I don't think I have a baseball team left in me young man."

"Time marches on." he admitted. "I suppose we'd better get started." he grinned, leaning over to suckle at her nipple.

There were moans of happiness coming from the other blanket now, loud moans from Becca and huffing grunts from Denny that said all too clearly what they were doing over there. Polly was delighted to find that Brian was hard again and she gladly pulled him up on top of her again, already reaching for the orgasm she knew he would give her. He did ride her longer this time, and she had three glorious climaxes before he warned her.

"Go ahead." she sighed.

He did, grunting almost as loud as Denny, as they both spewed hot spunk in their chosen women. Somehow it just felt right to them all.

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>