0 comments/ 16574 views/ 2 favorites On the Beach Ch. 02 By: soroborn Beth: I got Jo's email as soon as I sat down at my desk and turned my laptop on. The subject line was innocent enough, but when I opened the message and began to read, I glanced across at Jo and pantomimed fanning my face to cool it. She'd written a pretty explicit description of what we could do with Tim next time we got together, and I felt myself getting quite aroused as I read down. Her message finished with "Up for it?" and I quickly hit the reply key and typed "You bet!" then hit send. I saw her nod, then her fingers moved briefly over her keyboard, obviously messaging Tim. All three of us got on with our work for the rest of the day. Just after lunch I needed to speak to Tim about something, and my anticipation of the evening increased as he managed to keep his face from giving anything away; only a distinct glint in his eye held a promise for later. At five o'clock – Jo's usual finishing time – she closed down her computer and took her jacket from the back of her chair. I glanced over at Tim, and smiled to myself as I watched his eyes follow her across the room. She reached the door, and turned, giving Tim an unmistakeable saucy wink before heading down the stairs. The clock was approaching six when I saw Tim get up from his desk. He came over, and casually said, "You ready for your lift, Beth?" I nodded. "Thanks, Tim." I picked up my bag, and we walked together out of the building and over to the car park. Tim opened the car with his remote, then opened the passenger door for me. "Very gentlemanly," I grinned, sliding into the leather seat. He closed the door, then walked round to his own side and got in. We pulled smoothly away, and Tim turned out of the car park onto the main road. When we passed the last set of traffic lights out of town, I looked across at Tim. "Can you drive with one hand on the wheel?" He grinned, getting my hint, and reached across to put his hand on my thigh. I shifted in my seat, and parted my legs so that my skirt rode up a little. Tim slid his hand upwards, and glanced across in surprise. "I bet if you'd known all day I had no panties on, you'd have tried to catch a glimpse," I teased. I put my hand on his, pressing his fingers against my wet entrance. Tim began to explore me, slipping a finger inside me then withdrawing it to touch my clitoris. I groaned under my breath, and moved my hands to my breasts to touch my now-erect nipples through my t-shirt. I pushed my hips against his hand. "Mmm," I said, "this is a great starter for what Jo and I have in mind." I flexed my hips more urgently, and began to gasp. I felt my muscles begin to tense, then my whole body shuddered as I climaxed under Tim's hand. He glanced across again as my rapid breathing gradually slowed. "Can't wait for the main course," he grinned. I straightened my skirt and sat up in my seat. "Do I look a bit dishevelled?" "You look fine," he said. "Like the cat that got the cream." "Anyway, Jo'll get hers soon enough once we're there," I grinned. After a few more minutes Tim turned into Jo's drive and drew the car to a stop. He got out, and again held the car door open for me. I walked ahead of him to the front door and rang the bell. Jo answered the door straight away. I watched Tim's eyes widen as he saw her; she was wearing only a lacy basque and matching French knickers. We went in, and Jo closed the door behind us, then wrapped her arms around Tim, kissing him on the mouth. I followed as she led him into the living room. A fire was burning in the fireplace, and a bottle and three glasses stood on the table. Jo poured the wine, and we chinked our glasses together then drank. "So, Beth, do you remember our plan?" she asked teasingly. Tim glanced across at me, obviously wondering if I would tell Jo about the car journey. "Sure, Jo," I grinned, undoing the buttons of my blouse and dropping it on the floor, then slipping out of my skirt. I walked over to Tim and kissed him. I began to undress him as Jo watched, her hands already on her breasts caressing herself through her basque. When I'd finished removing Tim's clothes, I moved behind him, pressing my breasts against his back so he could feel that my nipples were hard again. Jo knelt in front of him and took the tip of his rapidly-hardening penis into her mouth. "Remember, Jo," I said, "don't take him too far – it's my turn today." She wrapped her hand around his shaft and just for a few seconds moved her mouth on him, swirling her tongue round his tip. Then she released him, turning her back to him and standing with her legs apart, her silk-clad bottom inviting. Tim needed no further encouragement. He reached out his hands and began to caress her bottom through the thin fabric, then moved one hand between her legs to slide his fingers across her entrance. After only a few moments, Tim slid Jo's French knickers down, and she stepped out of them, then once more parted her legs for him to continue touching her. He slid a finger inside her, then used the wet tip to briefly touch her rear opening while he caressed her breasts and nipples with his other hand. Jo began to moan as his fingers returned to her clitoris, and she began to push herself back against Tim's hand as her climax approached. He moved his hand more urgently on her, and she orgasmed with a loud cry, her body shaking. Tim wrapped his arms round her waist and pulled her close to him, kissing her hair. After a few moments she drew away from him and sat down on the sofa, her legs apart. She watched his face as she slowly removed her basque, then began to slide her hands over her body, her expression dreamy as she started to touch herself. I decided it was time to remind Tim of my presence, so I reached round and gently grasped his penis with my hand, using my other hand to caress his chest and then his nipples. "I hadn't forgotten it's your turn, Beth," he said, a smile in his voice. I rubbed my breasts against his back, and said, "Come on then, lover boy, show me what you can do." He turned to face me, and said, "Well, you've already had your starter..." Over his shoulder I saw Jo's enquiring look and winked at her. "So I think you're ready for the main course," Tim continued. He guided me toward the fireplace, and I sprawled on my back on the rug, the deep pile soft against my skin. I drew my knees up, parting my legs and pushing my breasts together with my hands. Tim knelt by me, leaning down to use his mouth on my nipples. I slid a hand down my stomach towards my mound, and Tim said, "Naughty, naughty – be patient." He continued to suckle each of my nipples in turn, and my arousal increased until I gasped, "Tim, please." He smiled, and shifted position so that he was between my legs, lowering himself so that his hard tip pressed against my entrance. Then he slid into me, our bodies pressing together as he penetrated me to his full length. He wrapped his arms around me, and I began to run my hands over his back. He flexed his hips, and I felt the combined pleasure of him moving inside me and his shaft pressing against my clitoris. I mirrored his movements, and watched his face, his expression showing clearly how much he was enjoying being in me. I felt my pleasure once more begin to build, and I moved more urgently against him, angling my hips so that my clitoris was getting maximum stimulation from his movements. I began to moan, quietly at first then louder, and I could see him holding back his own release. My hands grasped at his back and shoulder blades, and as the wave of pleasure began to build inside me, I hooked my legs behind his and pulled him against me harder at every stroke. Finally my climax hit me like a tidal wave, and I lost all coordination, my body shaking against his as I tensed against him. I saw his face change, an expression of intense release overtaking it as he reached his own orgasm, his warm fluid spurting into me and tipping me into another climax. I lay in his arms, breathing rapidly, and held him tightly as he remained inside me. I heard Jo's voice from the sofa. "Wow," she said, "that was amazing. It's really got me going again." "Well, fair's fair," I said, turning my head to look at her. "You've only had one orgasm, I think I'm up to three already." I grinned at Tim. "Want to even up the score a little?" He nodded, and eased off me, his penis slipping out of me. I glanced up at him. "Don't worry – you'll be back there soon enough." We moved over to Jo, and I knelt on the sofa and began to kiss her breasts then to suckle her gently, while Tim moved his head between her parted legs and started to use his tongue on her. "Gosh," she said, "I'm closer.. than..." Her voice trailed off, and her body shook as Tim took her clitoris in his mouth and suckled to match the attentions of my mouth on her breasts. When her climax had subsided, Tim moved up onto the sofa to hold her, and I leaned my head on her shoulder, my hand resting on her stomach just above her mound. "I really like your plan," said Tim softly. "Well, just let us know when you have some room for dessert," Jo replied with a grin. On the Beach Ch. 02 The family and Muriel deal with the fallout from the previous night. All the characters are over 18. There is no sex between family members but there are clear overtones of incest. If that is not your bag, your exit is but the click of a mouse away. Thanks to LarryInSeattle. Enjoy. Please comment. Thanks. ============= I woke up slowly, lazing in that in-between place where you dream but know that you're dreaming. The shades were pulled. They hung unmoving. The air was heavy, unstirred by even a hint of a breeze. The room smelled of sweaty clothes and sweaty bodies. Despite the light shining around the shade, the atmosphere in the room felt gloomy or maybe that was just me. I could have been sleeping atop a narrow bench in the high school locker room after a football game - one we'd lost. I may have gotten chilly during the night but the room was already getting uncomfortably warm. I wasn't sure what time it was. It felt late but in high summer in North Carolina, the light and heat can fool you. It was too much trouble to tilt my head and look at the clock. Sweat plastered my face and the side of my head to the pillow. I threw the sheet back and kicked it free with my feet. I realized I was nude. In my own bed I always slept naked but I wasn't in my own bed. My brain clawed its way a little closer to wakefulness. I wasn't at my apartment. I was in one of the basement bedrooms in the rental we had been coming to since before I could remember. I shared the room with my brother. I gathered my energy for what felt like the immense task of rolling away from the window and its brightness, thinking I'd ask Mark why I was naked when I woke up. My brother? My brain jumped from half asleep to fully awake. My heart started pounding and I felt a fresh wave of sweat break out on my forehead. I was sleeping naked in the same room as my brother. Why? I grabbed for the sheet and sat up. I don't sleep naked around my brother. What the fuck was I thinking? I told myself to relax. There was no reason to panic. I hadn't been drinking. I tend to run my mouth when I'm drunk. In vino veritas as the toga wearers had been wont to say. This was weird but not a disaster. I couldn't recall saying anything that would lead to disaster. My eyes darted to my brother's bed. I wasn't sure if I was hoping he was there or hoping he wasn't. Maybe he had spent the night at Muriel's. He was there, sprawled on his back, one foot twisted in a sheet that was the twin of the one on my bed. The fitted sheet had pulled loose. He lay half on the sheet and half on the mattress pad. He was naked as well. One hand rested casually atop his belly. His hard-on bobbed in the morning air. As memories of the night before crystallized in head, I held my breath. I tried to convince myself I had dreamt it, dreamt it all. There was no way my parents would fuck each other in the pool, not if they had the tiniest inkling their kids were around. And they most certainly wouldn't do so while watching their eldest fucking the neighbor and their youngest giving her cherry to a guest. Then there was me jerking off as I watched it all. It had to be a dream. Had to be. I rested my head back on the pillow, not bothering to flip it over. A warm, damp pillow was near the bottom of the list of things I was worried about at the moment. I tried to organize my thoughts, tried to force myself to review the events in sequence rather than in random, vivid images of naked bodies. My thoughts drifted back to last night. It had been Jill's idea to spy on our parents. The three of us had been playing video games. I had been sitting between Jim and my sister, Jill. Mark had gone over to Muriel's. Our parents had basically told us they were going skinny dipping in the pool and for us to get lost. ------- I remembered. Jim was hopeless. His Super Smash Brothers skills were beyond abysmal. Mom could beat him. I concentrated on Jill. Anyone who thinks girls aren't competitive should hang around my little sister. She was hunched over the controller, body tense, swaying and bouncing on the edge of the couch, elbows flying, as she played. She was concentrating on the screen so hard that her eyebrows nearly kissed. Jim gave up. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was staring at Jill. It pissed me off. That was all it took. Let yourself be distracted for a second and my sister would have your jugular dangling from her teeth before you had a chance to realize you were dead. She dropped the controller, thrust her arms over her head and began to chant, "Uh-huh, uh-huh, that's how that shit is played, boys," while she swiveled her hips. I waited for Jim's tongue to roll across the floor like in one of those old cartoons. When it did, I'd step on it. "Big deal. You won for a change." "For a change? I usually beat your ass, brother darling." She turned to Jim. "Man, no offense but you suck." "You do not 'usually beat' my ass. You win, ten, at best fifteen, percent of the time, which means what you usually do is lose." "Bullshit, not a chance, big bro. I beat you half, more than half the time, nowadays." She bent and picked up the controller. When she stood, her eyes were bright with excitement. I sat up a little straighter. I knew that look. We could be in for trouble. "Let's go see what mom and dad are up to." "Forget it," I said, getting ready to start another game. "That's both creepy and dumb. Sit down and I'll teach you to be humble." "No, seriously, come on. It'll be fun." Jim was staying out of it. "You think it'll be fun to spy on our parents while they skinny-dip? Wow, that's fucked up." "You didn't seem to have a problem today at the pool?" I sat the controller down and looked at my sister. "Seriously? How is that even remotely the same? We all went skinny-dipping, big deal. I wasn't spying on you while you skinny-dipped. I was skinny-dipping with you. You're talking about spying on mom and dad, not joining them. Even if you were suggesting we joined them I'd say 'no thanks'. They asked for a little privacy, it would be obnoxious to barge in on them. Leave them the fuck alone. Jill ignored the point I was making. That was her usual, and infuriating, way of ending an argument she couldn't win. "It's different if we're all naked together? Fine." She stood up and jerked her bottom off. Her ass was amazingly white. I tried not to stare but her pussy was only a foot or so from my face. Her top fell to the floor. "If they say anything, I'll just tell them I wanted to enjoy the cool breeze." I had called bullshit on her. I remembered that. I was pissed. "That's still bullshit, Jill. You're still spying on them. You aren't joining them in a happy little family naturist frolic. They asked for was a little privacy. Leave them alone. Jesus." As was also her habit, she ignored me. She rarely sought advice and even less rarely took it. She turned and bounced up the stairs and I do mean bounced. I couldn't avoid seeing the bulge in Jim's shorts. That irritated me. "Fuck, dude. Give it a rest. She's my sister." Jim shrugged, looking genuinely apologetic. "I know that, dumb shit. Why do you think I'm so fucked up about this shit. What can I do?" He then looked me in the eye. "Man, I think I'm in love." "Don't be fucking stupid. You barely know her." That wasn't true. Jim spent most of his free time at our house. He'd moved to town on his own to go to school. He'd lost contact with his dad long ago and his mom was dealing with his younger siblings. My folks had practically adopted him. Mark's vacant bed had become his de facto place to crash. He spent so much time at our house that my dad told him he should give up his apartment and just move in. We'd charge him less rent and he'd have a nicer place to live. The truth was, he'd spent a lot of time with Jill. I didn't care. I wanted to dissuade him of the idea before it grew stronger. "You're in love with her tits, maybe." He shrugged again. Then he proceeded to strip, letting his clothes drop to the floor besides my sister's. Not beside, on top of, as if that somehow sealed the deal. I almost sat back down and continued playing Super Smash Brothers. But my eyes wouldn't leave the pile of clothes lying atop each other. The clothes morphed into bodies, the bodies of my sister and my best friend, naked, naked and tangled up together. Fuck that. I needed to keep an eye on those two. I took the time to kick Jim's clothes off of my sister's before going upstairs. The two of them were on their hands and knees peeking around the lounge chairs. Their asses faced me when I came around the half-wall that guarded the stairs to the lower level. I could see Jim's balls hanging down. I could see Jill's pussy, sandwiched between her thighs. The small wedge of ass that her suit covered glowed white against her skin. It wasn't hard, objectively, to understand Jim's interest in her. Until earlier that day, I had never seen Jim naked. We hadn't gone to high school together. We met at the vocational tech school. There had been no gym class showers. We worked out together but Jim finished his work out by running the three miles back to his place. He never showered at the gym. Seeing them naked like that caused my dick to begin getting hard. It also ended my hesitation. I shucked my clothes and, crouching low, made my way to the door. At the doorway, I carefully stepped over the metal doorframe and knelt down beside Jim. I glanced at my friend. His eyes were glued to the pool. I followed his gaze and almost yelped in surprise. Mom was bracing herself against the side of the pool. Her breasts swayed between her outstretched arms, her nipples grazing the water that sloshed around her body as dad fucked her from behind. I couldn't see his dick or her pussy. They were blocked by the edge of the pool and the agitated water around their waists. Movement beyond Jill drew my attention. Mark was standing on Muriel's deck, naked, Muriel was naked as well. She was looking down at the pool, smiling. Mark was glaring at the three of us. Jim was fully hard now. I tried not to stare at his cock. He was bigger than me, probably bigger than Mark. It was easy to see how excited he was. A dew drop already glistened at the tip of his cock. I couldn't see if Jill's pussy was wet but her nipples were hard. I was hard. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to move closer to the two of them but I didn't have the nerve. Across the way, Mark was still glancing at us. He didn't appear to be scowling but that might have been because his face was screwed up in sexual excitement. Muriel was blowing him. Below, dad now sat on the edge of the pool. Mom was sucking him off. I turned to my side. I still hadn't touched my cock. Jill was standing, bent over, putting Jim's cock in her mouth. It was obvious she didn't have a lot of experience. Even if she had, Jim's cock would have taken some effort to deep throat. I didn't think she was bad at it, just inexperienced. Jim didn't appear to mind. I watched as his cock, or the head of it at least, slipped past my sister's lips. I watched her tongue the head. I willed her to stroke the side of it with her open lips, my psychic powers of persuasion were on the fritz but she did start to stroke him with her hand. I stood and started to stroke my own cock. I used my left hand, thumb toward the base of my cock. I spit into the palm of my right hand and rubbed over the head. Spit and pre-cum, it was enough lube to allow me to stroke the length of the cock I wished was just a mere half-an-inch longer. Jim pulled out of my sister's mouth and his cock began to spray white jets of cum over her pale breasts. I groaned something incoherent, twisted and, hips bucking, shot my load over the railing and onto the pool deck. Mom's eyes darted between me, jerking off, and her daughter who was rubbing my best friend's cum over her nipples. Mom's eyes were on us but she opened her mouth to receive my father's seed. Mark evidently came as well. It was impossible to see if he came in Muriel's mouth or not, though it was hard to imagine she cared. I honestly thought the festivities were at an end. That thought drop by the wayside quickly enough. Across the way Mark buried his face between Muriel's legs. Below me, dad was kissing mom and I wondered if she had swallowed first. Jim leaned Jill against one of the deck posts and began to eat her pussy. Muriel began shouting out instructions. It was surreal. I wondered why she hadn't felt the need to shout out instructions to Jill regarding the proper sucking of cock. It appeared that sexual bias was not a one-way street. To be fair, it's hard to speak with a mouth full of dick. Jim's cock swayed between his legs as his mouth moved over my sister's cunt. Trails of clear liquid fell from his cock, tracing an intricate pattern on the deck boards that sparkled and glowed in the sunlight. ----- As the action had continued around me I refrained from jerking off again. After the rest of my family, and my best friend, came yet again, I went downstairs, peed awkwardly, and went to bed still hard. I don't remember Mark coming to bed. Now, I laid, sweating in a tangle of sheets, wondering had I really stood on our deck and jerked off while my sister blew my best friend? I felt like groaning but didn't want to wake my brother. I was casually playing with my cock as my mind skimmed over the events of the previous evening. I'd woke with a hard-on, no surprise, but this wasn't the usual morning boner. I hadn't jerked off a second time last night. I had watched everyone in my family, except me, fuck or get fucked. My balls ached, my whole belly ached. I needed to piss. I needed to cum. I needed someone to cum with me. I needed someone to make cum. A small groan of frustration past my lips. Mark stirred, then settled back after scratching the base of his dick. I found it hard not to look at his cock. I was shocked when I discovered he had started shaving his body. He was right, though. It did make his cock stand out. I ran my fingers through the patch of hair in the center of my chest. I like the way it felt, the way it sounded. I looked at my cock. It was white, almost startling so. My dark tan stopped just above my pubes. My cock, balls, ass cheeks, my thighs, were all fish-belly white. I looked at my cock as I played with it, pushing to the back of my mind the fact that my brother was sleeping a few feet away. I've only caught occasional glimpses of my dad naked, and never when he was hard, but I was sure we had identical cocks, same size, same shape. The only difference is, like my brother, I'm uncut. Dad's folks had been more traditional. He was circumcised. Mark and I had similar cocks, the difference being that the lucky asshole is a little bigger than I am. With his pubes shaved he looked even bigger. Why God gave him a whole extra inch instead of dividing it up evenly, half for him, half for me, was a major theological beef of mine. Just a half of a fucking inch, was that a lot to ask? That would have put me beyond the six-inch mark on the ruler, eliminating the need to strain until I was red in the face in order to get the tip of my cock beyond the six-inch line. Fuck. I brushed my fingertips over the soft, short hairs that ran from my belly button to my pubes. It tickled but not a normal tickle. This tickle was deep in my belly. I drug my mind away from the myriad of ways my life sucked and tried to focus on my cock. I'd be lying if I said I had forgotten about Mark. I hadn't. I began to stroke my cock more purposefully, letting my right knee fall to the side of the bed. I didn't squeeze my cock very hard. I wasn't wet enough yet. I let the fingers of my loose grip glide over the crown. Scenes from last night continued to play in my head. I distanced myself from the notion I had been watching family members. I turned them into anonymous porn stars on a computer screen. I gave my cock a firmer squeeze and used my fingers to smear the resulting clear fluid over the head of my cock. I could apply more pressure now and still my fingers would slide without tugging at the skin. The fingers of my right hand wrapped around the top of my ball sack. I squeezed and pulled. I looked over at my sleeping brother, at his naked body, his pretty cock. He's better looking than he gives himself credit for. I imagined him helping me shave my balls, not actually doing it, or touching me, just watching and advising. In my head he morphed into Jim. What would Mark do if he woke up right now and saw me jerking off? What the fuck could he say? I'd watched him get sucked, then eat pussy and finally fuck Muriel with extreme prejudice, to borrow a phrase. If he'd been looking he'd have seen me jerking off last night. What was the big deal about this morning? I told myself that, in fact, it wouldn't be a big deal if he watched me jerk off, or vice versa, but like spying on my parents, I failed to convince myself. I gave my shaft another squeeze and used nature's greatest lube to increase the pressure. I tugged harder at my nuts, relishing the ache. For a split second I thought I saw Mark open one eye. I decided later that he hadn't but the idea that he was watching me had been sufficient. My cock twitched, my hips bucked and I spewed the load that had been impatiently waiting all night over my belly, chest and pillow. I licked my fingers clean, not really thinking about it. I scooped cum off my belly and chest and disposed of it the same way I'd been doing since the time I overheard my mom asking my dad why boys always cleaned up after jerking off with either their socks or tee shirts. I took a minute to come down from my orgasm before rolling out of bed. I felt a bead of sweat, or maybe it was cum, roll down the center of my chest. I pulled on a pair of old gym shorts, not bothering with underwear. I'd shower first. I didn't bother rummaging for a tee shirt for the same reason. I considered tickling Mark's nose with the edge of a sheet but fucking with my sleeping big brother didn't seem worth the effort. I watched him for a moment, convincing myself he was asleep, but mostly staring at his cock. It stood guard over a two or three day growth of pubic hair. A dark patch that almost looked penciled on to his dark brown skin. It would probably feel sandpapery against my hand or cheek. I shook my head to clear it and stepped into the hall. I re-closed the bedroom door as quietly as I could. I started towards the bathroom and a shower but decided I was starving. After what had been going on, why worry about a shower before I went upstairs anyway? ----- I woke to the unmistakable sounds of someone jerking off. Someone who was trying, and failing, to be quiet. Bill must have thought I was asleep. Despite the show last night, my brother was a cautious guy. There's no way he'd jerk off with just the two of us in a room. I'd forgotten to ask why Tiffany hadn't joined us. Was he still seeing her? I could have shared a room with Jim, assuming mom and dad would have let Bill and Tiff share a room in the first place. The realization that I didn't know if my own kid brother was dating was sobering. Sure, I was busy but that busy? I pretended to be asleep. I barely cracked one eye open and watched through the haze of my eyelashes as Bill jerked off. I considered joining him but I knew he'd freak out. I wondered if it wasn't a little strange that despite growing up in a small house and sharing a bedroom, I had never heard or seen Bill jerk off before. I knew he jerked off. I mean I didn't know it for a fact, having never witnessed him doing so before now but, WTF, what guy doesn't jerk off? On the Beach Ch. 02 When he grabbed his balls I nearly opened my eyes in surprise. He was doing exactly what Muriel had done to me last night. What an educational experience last night had been. Holy shit, how the hell did Bill know about the tug on your balls trick? Had he been able to see what we were doing that clearly or had he discovered it on his own? He kept pausing to rub the head of his dick. He was really beating off now. He was jerking off with his left hand, turning it over so that his palm was on the top, not the bottom, of his dick. I always jerk off with my right hand. I wanted to see a little clearer. I risked opening my eye just a fraction more. I saw his eyes focus on me. Unlike yesterday, when I realized Muriel was watching me beat off, I didn't lose my shit. I didn't squeeze my eyes tight, which would have only confirmed I was spying on him. I didn't do anything. I just lay there, telling myself to breath like I was asleep. He shot a huge load over his chest and belly. It seemed like he came forever. I'm pretty sure there isn't a gay bone in my body but watching him made me desperate to stroke my own cock. He surprised me again when he cleaned up by eating his cum. I'd done that a couple times. It didn't do much for me. An image from the night before, of dad kissing mom after he shot a load into her open mouth popped into my head. I hope Bill got the fuck out soon. I really needed to jerk off. After last night, I wasn't too worried about doing it in front of him but if I did, he'd know I'd faked being asleep. I considered doing it anyway just to see his reaction. There's something hot and exciting to me about the idea of jerking off in front of someone, even if that someone is your own brother. He pulled on his shorts and crossed the room to stand by the head of my bed. I struggled to play it cool and to continued to play possum. My eyes were closed but I could see the shadow his body cast through my eyelids. I didn't know what he was doing, maybe trying to make sure I was asleep. After a minute or so, he left. I started to fondle my cock in preparation for jerking off but stopped when I didn't hear the shower turn on. You can't miss it. Every pipe in the lower level rumbles when you turn the damn thing on. I hadn't heard any doors open or close. He must have gone upstairs. With his chest hair still wet with jizz? Bill? My quiet cautious brother? WTF? My curiosity about my little brother's behavior proved greater than my horniness. I stopped playing with my dick and tried to think. I was disgusted by how little I knew about Bill's life since I left for college. I needed to talk to Jill. ----- I was sitting at the breakfast bar, nibbling at my usual breakfast of half a bagel. I had allowed myself the indulgence of a bit of salmon cream cheese. My mom had a body I'd kill for but aunt Sara was a big as two of mom. I wasn't taking any chances. I heard someone on the steps. As I expected, it was Bill. Mark could spend most of the day in bed. Not Bill. He was too restless. I was shocked at his appearance. I tried to keep my smile from fading. He only wore shorts, no big deal at the beach, but he wasn't wearing underwear. His penis was half-erect and swaying under the thin white cotton. A wet spot the size of one of the Kennedy half-dollars mom was convinced would be worth something more than fifty cents someday, outlined the head of his penis. He had splotches of wet, matted, hair on his belly and chest. I had to assume it was semen. Bill was fastidious. He didn't waste money on fancy club clothes, he didn't club. He favored jeans or khakis, but he was always tidy. He worked with his hands but his nails were trimmed and clean. This was not the Bill I was used to seeing. "Naturist etiquette requires bare butts be placed on a towel, not directly atop a surface others will be sitting on," he informed me as he opened the refrigerator door. "How would you know? Mark's the nudist, not you." I tried to hide my surprise when he re-appeared from the fridge with a Shock Top in his hand (my mom's a sucker for the latest fad when it comes to beer) but I wasn't completely successful. We were so close in age we were more like twins than typical sibs. He read the surprise in my eyes. "I'll have an orange with it," he assured me as he twisted the top off. He took a swallow, a long one, a half a bottle one, before sitting the bottle down and looking at me. "How do I know? I read, dumb head. You should try it. We've got a book at home with an essay about a guy checking out a nudist resort. If you're going to be one you might consider reading it. Just saying." His tone of voice, more than what he said, surprised me. It took me a moment to realize he was answering my jibe about Mark being the nudist. Bill never calls me names, not that I could remember. My parents used to joke that Baby Jill was Bill's not theirs. He hovered over me. He knew he'd upset me. He tried to hide it by draining the beer in a second long gulp and failed. As I hopped off the stool to fetch a towel, I saw dismay flit over his face. I walked down the hall to the closet and grabbed a hand towel. I draped it over the top of the stool and sat down. Using something to put between your bare ass and whatever you were sitting on made good sense. Besides, the towel was more comfortable to sit on than the hot sticky vinyl. Bill grabbed another beer and walked past me toward the deck without speaking. He stepped onto the deck, pulled his shorts off and laid down on one of the lounge chairs. It was already too warm inside and it was only mid-morning. It was no use asking my parents to turn on the AC. They were both convinced, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that the "sea breeze" obviated the need for AC. I grabbed the lotion from the table and headed outside. I knew Bill didn't want to talk. That was fine but I hoped I could ease his funk. Something was going on with him and I prayed to God it wasn't what I was afraid of. "Lotion my back, please." He opened a single eye and scowled but he took the bottle from my hand. I turned and squatted on my heels as he sat up on the edge of the chair. I refrained from pointing out he hadn't followed etiquette either. There was no towel on the lounge chair. At least my ass had been freshly showered before I sat down on the stool. "This is going to feel cold," he warned. I couldn't repress a small shudder as the lotion snaked across my back. He rubbed the sunscreen over my back, including the top of my shoulders, reaching over to make sure the hollow spots above my clavicles were covered. His touch was soft, thorough, and free of any hint of animosity. The hands at least still belong to a brother I knew still loved me. I held up my hair and he rubbed lotion over the back of my neck. He worked the lotion over my sides and as low as the top of my butt. The simple mechanics of being cared for relaxed me. I felt a twinge of sadness when his hands left my skin and he handed me the bottle. His touch had been caring, not erotic. The fact that we were both naked was irrelevant. "Your turn," I said as I rose and turned to face him. "I'm fine. I tan easier than you do." "Yes, you do but you still need sunscreen. You use the 45, same as I do, don't you?" He nodded. "Here," I said, handing him the bottle. "Thanks." He took it and sat it down underneath his chair. "Bill, I think you'd better take care of your junk, and not later. Mark's been naked in the sun before. Not you and not me. I used mom's SPF 90 on my boobs and butt. The sun is already murder." "Thanks." He didn't move. His eyes stayed closed. "Please?" I asked, not in a wheedling voice or a demanding voice, just a concerned voice. I had never seen my brother like this. I was getting more and more worried about him. The idea that he was angry with me, worse, that he could stay angry at me, scared me to death. This had to be about last night. For an atheist I was doing a lot a lot of praying, as I found myself praying, again, that it was the whole weird scene Bill was upset about and not just the one particular scene I feared had upset him. ------ I had pushed him last night. I knew he didn't want to go but I couldn't let the idea go. I was obsessed with the notion of seeing my parents, MY PARENTS, nude. I had no idea I was such a pervert. Maybe I was only a slut? Was that better than being a pervert? Maybe I was just totally balls-to-the-wall horny. I don't have balls. Jim sure did and I was dying to see them again. The brief glimpse I'd had earlier at the pool wasn't nearly enough. I had thanked God my brothers had brains enough to stay at the pool when I said I was going to the beach. I thanked Him more, when Jim climbed out of the pool. The fact that he was following me to the beach almost made up for the fact he jerked his swim trunks on before I got a good look at his penis. What I saw definitely peaked my interest. I wasn't a virgin. I don't think my parents know that. I had gotten really really really tired of the nagging question, at least as far as my girl friends were concerned, of when my ripe cherry would be plucked. I settled. I admit it. Who knew jocks had such small wieners? On the plus side, it didn't hurt very much. Jim's penis had looked to be far more formidable. After we made our way to the beach I practically raped him. I might have jerk his trunks off and begged him to fuck me right there on the beach, if there weren't so many people around. I had to settle for some really nice kisses, the feel of his hand on my boob and the even nicer feel of his boner against my leg. Dinner had not eased my frustration. I wanted to get him to my room, parents and brothers be damned. I had chatted and flirted with Jim for over a year. After the way I had pawed him on the beach he couldn't have any doubts about what I wanted. He was a nice guy, maybe too nice. I spent dinner wondering if he was too nice to fuck me under my parents roof. So, maybe it was the insanity of unrequited lust that drove my obsession to spy on my parents. I don't know. Bill told me it was stupid and weird. I agreed on both counts but that wasn't the point. I decided this was a circumstance when action would be more effective than words. I stripped and headed upstairs. If Bill didn't want to join me that was fine but I hoped Jim would. I hadn't made it halfway to the patio door before I heard someone coming up the stairs. When I turned, Jim was rounding the half-wall. He was already naked and already getting hard. It took a lot for me not to jump into his arms, pull him to the floor and tell him to fuck me. We crossed the room quietly and stepped outside. I ducked down behind one of the lounge chairs and Jim joined me. I expected to see my parents goofing around in the pool. Maybe, hugging, but more likely just relaxing in the water, talking. It took several minutes for reality of what I was seeing to overcome that expectation. Mom was braced against the side of her pool. Her head hung down between her arms. She was pushing her butt backwards, meeting my father's thrusts. My parents were fucking, if not in broad daylight, then in broad evening light. It was no where near dark. What I was seeing was crazy - crazy hot. I felt that warm tingling feeling between my legs and I knew that soon my pussy would be soaking wet. I didn't care that the people fucking below me were my parents. My parents were hot. My mom was a babe and my dad was nerdy but hot, think Clark Kent. I looked over my shoulder at Jim. He was making no attempt to hide the fact he was engrossed. I lowered my eyes. His penis was getting longer and rounder. I wanted his penis in me. I vowed to myself I would have Jim inside me that night. As if reading my mind, he looked at me. From the look on his face, I didn't think it would take a lot of effort on my part to make my vow come true. I was seriously considering kissing him when I saw Bill out of the corner of my eye. He stripped and walked toward us. My brother's penis was getting hard too. I tried not to stare. He's my brother but his penis looked nice. It wasn't as big as Jim's but it was nice. I thought of the silly twat, Tiffany, the chick Bill had been dating and felt a twinge of jealousy. I found myself hoping she'd never got her mitts, her mouth or her pussy on my brother's penis. It was too nice for her. I looked away, not wanting Bill to catch me staring. The action in the pool was unchanged. My mom lifted her head. I thought I saw her eyes widened. She was biting her lip, something I had inherited from her. Her boobs were beautiful. I hoped mine held up as well as hers. My dad looked up. We were down low, the room behind us was dark and the sun was shining just above the peak of the roof. I didn't see how he could make anything out in the shadows of the deck. Whether he did or didn't see us, he started to fuck mom even harder. I felt Bill's eyes on the side of my face. I looked at him. He was looking past me. I turned just in time to see Muriel start to suck Mark's dick. This was getting insane. I looked at Jim. Neither of us spoke but he stood up. I stood as well. I wanted to pull a chair over to sit on but I was afraid if I stepped away I'd break the spell. Everyone would come to their senses and scuttle off to hide in their rooms. I bent over and took Jim's cock in my mouth. I had to lift it up with one hand. It was hard but it was so heavy it hung down instead of standing up like my brother's. I knew, in an abstract way, from conversation, health class, and occasional sightings that my brothers were not circumcised. Jim was. I had no feelings about that one way or another. There was a paler, pinker circle of skin, just behind the crown of his cock where his foreskin had been. I didn't have time to wonder how he would have looked with a foreskin. I was trying to get as much of his dick in my mouth as I could. I hadn't given my de-flowerer a blow job. I'd never given a blow job, unless pretending once with a banana counted. I had to rely on the pornos my girlfriends and I watched. I was surprised at how soft and squishy the head of Jim's dick was. I had assumed it would be as hard as the rest of his dick. I could push against it with my tongue and it would give. I worked the head into my mouth. When I pushed my tongue against the underside of his shaft, I felt no give there. The skin was soft and smooth but the flesh underneath was hard as iron. I pulled back a little and played with the head. I realized I was tasting his cum or the pre-cum, or to be little Miss Pre-Med, the pre-seminal discharge. I liked it. My girlfriends either claimed they never, ever, let a guy cum in their mouth or if he did they would immediately jump up gagging and spit it out in the first place they could, often in the guy's bed sheets. I worked my mouth back over the crown. I bobbed my head, imitating the motion I'd seen in the porn videos. I was able to get a little more of his dick in my mouth but never more than half of it. I was holding his dick with one hand. I began to move it over his dick, up and down, timing the movement with that of my head and mouth. It was easier when the spit from my mouth reached my fingers. It no longer felt like I was pulling or stretching his skin. My fingers flowed smoothly over the soft skin wrapped over hard flesh. I wanted him to hold my head. I needed feedback. He was quiet, not speaking, not moving. I had my free hand on the side of his ass. The only movement I felt was the flexing of his ass cheek. When he pulled away, I was afraid I'd done something wrong. His hand pushed mine aside and he began to jerk at his dick, much harder and faster than I had been doing. Streams of white jetted from his dick and landed on my boobs. It was hot, temperature hot and sexy hot, but I'd wanted to taste his cum. I moved to take his dick in my mouth but he put a hand on my forehead and held me away. I settled for rubbing his cum over my boobs. When I rubbed my slick fingers around my nipples and pinched them, Jim finally made a noise. A soft growl, low and deep in this throat. When I put my fingers in my mouth, the growl grew coherent enough for me to hear, "Oh fucking Jesus." His cum tasted fine to me. Girlfriends can be so full of shit. I stood and Jim took me in his arms. His wet dick pressed into my belly as we kissed. He pushed me back and I grabbed at his arm. I didn't want to fall over the deck railing. "Easy, girl. I got you," he reassured me as he settled my bottom against a deck post. It wasn't very comfortable but when he knelt between my legs, put his hands on the inside of my knees and pushed them apart, I forgot about my butt. I put one foot on the lowest cable of the railing and opened myself to his mouth. No one had ever gone down on me before. Sue, a friend since kindergarten, had kissed me on the pussy once, playing Truth or Dare at a slumber party, but that was it. I felt his lips on my pussy and then his tongue was inside me. He pressed it hard against the top of my pussy and dragged it out slowly. He was looking up at me as he did it. His eyes glowed. So did his cheeks, wet with my juices. I half-heard Muriel's suggestions. I was more irritated than grateful. Jim was doing just fine and she was distracting me. When I came, I almost didn't know what was happening. It was so different from what I felt when I got myself off with my fingers. It felt like my entire body was being squeezed by some monstrous pressure into an ever tighter and more compact ball. It was hard to get a deep breath. I could feel my heart beating in every part of my body. I was near the point of pushing him away. It was too much. He was killing me. As my fingers touched the close cropped hair on his head, every cell in my body exploded. I couldn't even scream my relief. I panted. Long after I started to breathe normally, I could feel my uterus contracting deep inside my belly. That should have done it. I couldn't imagine ever feeling anything that good again in my life but I still wanted his dick inside me. I had made myself a promise. I pushed myself off the post, bent and managed to get a few sucks in, not that he needed it. He was hard as steel again. I turned around and leaned against the railing. I wanted to watch the others watching me get fucked. There's no point in denying it. I would have loved watching Jim's face above mine as he entered my pussy. We could have gone inside. I never considered it. I didn't want him to fuck me from behind because I thought it would be better. At that time, I had had two, pathetic, experiences with fucking. I didn't know enough to choose a position. I turned my back to him because I wanted to see what my parents and Mark were doing but even more than that, I wanted them to see what I was doing. I wanted to perform for them. I thought at the time that was pretty fucking weird but I didn't care. I arched my back and wiggled my ass. I looked at Jim over my shoulder. His face wore none of the usual care-free lightness that usually resided there. He was all business now. I wanted that business to be me. "Fuck me. Please." "Are you a vir..." "No," I shook my head. "But I've only done this a couple times. I don't care though. I want your dick in me. Please." He stepped forward. One of his hands rested on my ass. It felt hot on my skin. The other held his dick. He rubbed it up and down my slit. The head probed between my legs. When his dick hit my still singing clit I shivered. "Ready?" I nodded. He pushed the head of his dick against my pussy. It slid partway in and then seemed to get stuck. He held still. He pushed. I gasped. He started to pull out. I reached back and touched the hand on my lower back. On the Beach Ch. 02 "No," I whispered through clenched teeth. "I'm fine. Just hold your dick there. Let me." Jim didn't reply but he didn't pull away either. I pushed against his dick. The first half of the crown penetrated me easily but the wider flange and top of his shaft felt like they were too much. My pussy could never stretch that wide. It hurt. I pushed harder. I gritted my teeth as the pain in my pussy flared. I pushed harder and, just like that, he was inside me. I held still, giving my pussy time to adjust. After a few seconds, Jim began to push deeper in me. The pain was gone. It had been replaced by the most delicious feeling of fullness I had ever felt. He was inside my body. We were as close physically as two people can ever be. I wanted to sing. Soon both of his hands were on my hips. For the first time in my life I was being fucked. For the first time I understood the difference between "fucking" and "making love". They're not as different as some maintain. I didn't feel violated or taken advantage of. I wanted to be "fucked" as much as Jim wanted to "fuck" me. Our desires did not lessen our emotional connection. The fact that we had an emotional connection made it easier to let go and immerse ourselves in the experience. Or so it seemed to me, I shouldn't presume to speak for Jim. Anyone can fuck. It's perfectly possible to fuck a stranger and to enjoy it, but strangers cannot make love. To me that is the primary difference. Maybe we need another category. "Hook-up fucks" are entirely about the physical release. "Couple fucks" are primarily physical release and "making love" is as much about the emotion as the physical. I wasn't thinking about any of that at the time. My only goal then had been to time my pushes with Jim's thrust. I lost myself in the sensation of being stretched and filled by his dick. I held onto to the post with one hand. With the other, I began to play with my pussy. We seemed to have fallen into a competition with Mark and Muriel and my parents. Who could fuck the hardest? Who could fuck the fastest? The darkening air echoed with grunts, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, and finally the moans of satisfaction. I felt the same sensation of compression of my body. This time I held on to it. I kept the lid screwed on tight and let it build and build. When Jim drove deep in my pussy and tensed, I pulled the cork. I jerked away from him while he was still cumming, while I was still cumming, spun around and took his dick in my mouth. My fingers left my clit and pushed their way into my pussy, trying to fill the vacuum left by Jim's cock. I tasted my pussy on his cock as the last of his cum filled my mouth. I had forgotten about Bill. He stood to one side. His penis was rock hard, nearly flat against his belly. The look on his face confirmed what I had been suspecting for months now. For the first time I worried he might grow to hate me. Now, staring at him I was afraid my fears were proving all too true. -- I picked up the SPF 45. Before Jill could speak, I beat her to the punch. "The amount of UV light blocked by a particular SPF is not linear. Above 45, probably above 30, the incremental benefit is minimal." I squirted some into my hand. "I read," I added as I began to rub the lotion over my cock and balls. I was in an ugly mood but she was right. Getting a sunburned and blistered dick was not on my list of things to do today. Her fingers brushed the hair on my chest. "You have dried cum on your chest, big brother." There was a sadness in her voice that made me want to cry. I didn't need my sister to worry about me and I didn't want to worry her. "Do my back?" I asked, hoping that would signal her not to worry. I didn't wait for her to answer. I turned, knowing she'd take care of my back. When she was done, I finished the rest of my body. Jill had brought me a towel as well. I picked it up and turned toward the door. "Aren't you going to keep me company?" There was that sadness again. I was getting ready to give her the excuse I'd been working on as I applied the sunscreen when a voice floated across the yard. It was Muriel. We both looked over at her house. She was in her yard, peering over the fence, nude. "Bill, honey? I hate to bother you so early but could you give me a hand for a sec? I have some garden stuff I'd like to move before it gets hot. I'll feed you breakfast." I wanted to tell her to fuck off. "Sure, Ms. Dyer. Be there is a sec." "Just come through the garden gate. It's not locked." She turned and walked toward the side of her house. As I pulled my shorts on, Jill smiled and whispered, "Don't bother. She's just going to take them off." I scowled again by way of saying good-bye. A horny MILF was the last thing I wanted to deal with. I pushed open the gate and Muriel was waiting. She held out a large glass of orange juice. It would have been rude to refuse so I took it from her and took a sip. I had to admit it tasted better than the beer. "Over here, hon. It shouldn't take long." She led me to two twenty-five pound bags of mulch. "Would you mind putting those over by that bed by the back fence honey?" I shrugged my assent. There wasn't enough space on the beach for a real backyard. You were lucky if you could squeeze in a pool. I could have tossed the bags over to the bed. It took less than a minute to move the bags. "Anything else, ma'am?" "No, honey. Thank you, but I promised you breakfast." I open my mouth to beg off but she was not to be deterred. "No excuse, mister. Come along. I don't bite." She giggled. "Not unless you ask me to." I groaned inside. How the fuck was I going to get out of this? "Don't mind the mess. I haven't had time to clean up. You'd better like buttermilk biscuits, Bill, 'cause that's what you're smelling." My stomached growled. For the first time that morning I smiled. "Scrambled okay?" "A biscuit will be..." "Honey, that's not what I asked. Scrambled okay?" I might as well be arguing with my mom. "Yes, ma'am." "One of the things that bothers me about the world today is the decided lack of courtesy but, Bill, you're all grown up and I'm not a grandmother. Muriel will do. Not only will it do, I insist.' I nodded. She nodded back. I drank my orange juice while she donned an apron and began to worked at the stove. She turned a low flame on under a skillet on the back burner. She scrambled two eggs, adding a good dollop of cream to them, dropped some butter in a second skillet and poured the mixture in. When she sat the plate in front of me, my mouth watered. The eggs were perfect, not a streak of white. White streaks in scrambled eggs are a sure sign the cook doesn't know how to beat eggs. A perfectly brown biscuit perched on the edge of the plate and a second one was forked open and covered in sausage gravy. "You want some Tabasco? Chula?" "Chula, please." She returned to the counter by the stove. Returned with a bottle and sat down across the small table from me. "Aren't you going to eat ma'...Muriel?" She snorted and tossed her head. "Don't tease me, Bill. I love cooking it but if I eat it I'll weigh three hundred pounds by Christmas. I ate earlier. Dig in. You worked hard. You can handle it." She stood again and returned with two mugs of coffee. "Black okay?" I nodded. "Good for you. Drink it like a man." I ate in silence after that while Muriel sipped her coffee. The food was so good I forgot to be pissed off. I saved the biscuit for last, spreading it with butter and strawberry jam that had to be homemade. I didn't bother to suppress a sigh of satisfaction when I finished. I'd barely touched my coffee. I picked it up and took a sip. "Thank you. That was the best breakfast I've had in years." "You are most welcome, Bill. It was a pleasure having someone to cook for again." She took a sip of her coffee and sat the mug down. Her fingers rested on the rim. "Bill, I know it's hard but not as hard as you think. Honey, you need to tell your family." I just stared at her as my stomach turned to stone. "Huh? Tell them what?" Muriel just gazed at me with her blue eyes. I noticed she was already wearing make-up. Her fingers circled her coffee cup. "Thanks again for breakfast," I said as I stood. "Sit down, Bill, please?" There was that damn word again and spoken in nearly the same tone of voice that Jill had used. I sat back down and Muriel began to speak. Her soft deep Southern drawl soothed my nerves but my mind was still racing. "I got nothing to do all day, or almost nothing to do. The business runs itself, more or less. I need to remind my people I'm keeping an eye on things but that's about it. I'm not some snoopy old lady. Y'all live not twenty feet away for two weeks every summer since you were in diapers. I've known your folks for almost as long as you've been alive. I see things, sitting up here, reading my books and watching for dolphins. "I'd be surprised if Jill doesn't know. She'd see all of it, if she weren't so busy thinking about that fella you hang out with, Jim. He seems like a nice young man. The fact he's your friend tells me most of what I need to know about him. I don't expect your folks will be very surprised, least ways not your momma. You need to tell them. All this squashed down mess you're keeping bottled up inside ain't good for you. You must know that." She sighed, looking down at her coffee cup. She raised her eyes to mine. "World's different now, Bill. It's a damn sight from being perfect but it's better, a lot better." I shook my head. "Muriel, I appreciate your concern but I'm fine. I still don't know what you're talking about." She nodded, look of resignation on her face. "Okay, Bill." She stood up. "You come over anytime you need a breather from the crowd, hear me? I nodded. Instead of heading toward the door I turned toward the sink. "You don't need to do that." "No, I don't. But you didn't need to fix me a Sunday breakfast on, what is today? Tuesday?" "Monday." We fell in the comforting routine of doing the dishes. I feel a little sorry for people who live in houses with dishwashers. Our rental had one. We never used it. It didn't appear that Muriel even had one. She scraped. I washed. She moved to my right and began to dry. We fell into a rhythm. I'd wash, rinse, and then hand whatever it was to Muriel to dry, the dish rack no longer necessary. The skillet that had held the gravy took a little longer. I was methodically scrubbing away, wondering where she still found steel wool pot scrubbers, before I spoke again. Muriel stood, dishtowel draped across one hand, momentarily without a task to perform. I kept my attention on the skillet. "How did you know?" "I've been around the block a few more times than your momma or daddy. I have a knack for reading people. It's the main reason I've been able to make something of myself. Most times I can spot bullshit a mile away. "If it bothers you, somebody not close to you would never wonder. Mark, he's a nice young man, top-notch but he's a man and, more importantly, he's your brother. Men, no offense honey, aren't given to deep pondering, certainly not about family and friends. To a man, if you're his friend that's pretty much all he needs, or cares, to know. Like I said earlier, I'd not be too surprised if Jill and your momma had an inkling, though. Sometimes folks are too close to a thing. It's all blurry and foggy. Don't you go around imagining because they've never said anything it's because they're upset or disappointed or angry. "No, hon. My guess is they don't want to pry or come off as all nosy. You have to know, it won't make a hill of beans worth of difference to them don't you, Bill?" "Really? You don't think they'll mind me being a faggot?" My voice was bitter, harsher than I had expected. "Bill, that's my favorite skillet, hon. You're about to scour a hole right through the bottom." I rinsed the skillet and handed it to her. She took it, dried it, and hung it on its hook near the stove. When she turned back to face me, her eyes were hard. "Bill, I wasn't brought up to believe that hitting a child was always wrong, that it only teaches him to hit. I'm not in favor of beating a child, not even of really hurting a child, but a swat once in a while does wonders for focusing the attention. I also don't believe in hitting for anger's sake alone. So, I won't." Her eyes grew colder still. "But if I hear you refer to yourself or to anyone else using that word again I'll fetch you one right up the side of your head. You understand me, honey?" "Yes, ma'am."