Yard Work

 

a Short Story, Copyright © 1999, Kellis

 

“The battery’s dead on that cordless.  Is this better, Clara?”

Both young men paused, listening to the contralto voice that suddenly floated out from the window above them.

It continued after time for a reply.  “Perpetual erections?  No, I’m not blessed with nephews, but I do have compensation…

“No, I do not mean Archy.  I have two yard boys that are perpetual enough for anyone.”

Startled, Carl looked over to his brother and asked quietly, “Did you hear that?”

Jack’s lips parted to reply but the voice continued, “How do you think?  I’ve got eyes!  The bulges in those skin-tight jeans are unmistakable.”

Carl whispered, eyes wide, “She’s talking about our dicks?”

Again the female voice, now with overtones of amusement:  “Socks in their pants?  Maybe some do, but not my boys.  I’ve seen the cause of their bulges.”

Both men, not yet well begun at the weeding, laid their trowels among the flowers and raised up on their knees, bringing their heads closer to the window.

The woman laughed.  “A peeping Jane, indeed!  But why not?  You said it, Clara:  at that age they’re cute all over …

“From down the valley.  College kids.  Archy hired them for the summer to take care of the yard…

“Not as much as you think:  just spending money and use of the pool…

“I’m not worried about that.  They’re very polite, mannerly kids.  With beautiful, even tans…  Twin brothers, I think, though not identical.  One’s slim and the other is stocky …  I’m not sure;  eighteen or nineteen, but definitely not little boys!…

“Old enough to be what?  Oh, no;  I’m not anyone’s mother.  Lacey doesn’t count;  she’s by Archy’s previous, you know.  She’s at summer camp for the rest of the month…

“Well, of course I’ve thought about it!  Archy’s been in Saudi Arabia for most of this spring and even when he’s here, he’s distracted.  He says oil demand is down.  I don’t understand why, when business is poor, he doesn’t have more time off.  But he doesn’t, and I admit those teenagers look better every day.  Many afternoons they go skinny dipping.  I watch them from the upstairs window with Archy’s binoculars.  I’ll tell you, Clara, it’s starting to make me drool!”

Jack’s eyes widened on his brother.  “She’s been watching us!”

The voice above them emitted a chuckle.  “Right.  But how does a mature woman go about it?  How did you work it with your nephew?

The voice fell silent.  The boys waited, exchanging incredulous stares.  Carl, the stocky one, wondered, “Did she see us with Sherry?”

Jack shook his head.  “Nah, it was night.  And I wouldn’t let you turn on the lights, remember?”

“Yeah.  You were right about that, but wrong now.  If she knew we were here, she wouldn’t talk like that.  We’re supposed to be doing the other side.  Come on.  Let’s go around the house.”

Again Jack shook his head.  “Go on if you want to, but I’m sticking.  You do know what she’s talking about, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Seduction 101.  And we’re it!”

Carl grunted.  “If she catches us listening, it’ll be Termination 101.  I don’t care —”

But his brother held up a hand as the woman’s voice resumed.  “Clara, you didn’t!”

Carl fidgeted but continued to kneel beside Jack.

The woman breathed, “In your hand?  He wet your hand?”

Carl became as still as his brother.

“Oh, yes, I remember,” she continued.  “My teenagers are fast, too.  Several times I’ve seen them sit on the side of the pool and jerk off into the water, cute as can be.  I’ve even timed them.  Takes about half a minute.  I think they compete with each other.”

“Shit!” cried Carl disgustedly under his breath.   His face began to redden.

“Oh, no!  I know what fags do.  My two don’t touch each other.  They’re just healthy boys.  Didn’t you ever spy on your brother’s friends?  Boys call it a ‘circle jerk.’  I think they see who can shoot first and maybe farthest.  I know my two try to pee farthest.  They hold it up at a 45 degree angle.”

“God!” breathed Carl, now beet red.

“It’s big enough, all right; looks about the same size on each through the binoculars.  The slim one might have the edge.”  She lowered her voice, though not unintelligibly.  “But they’re intact, Clara, which surprised me.  Archy told me all American boys are circumcised as a matter of course.”

“Oh, shit!”  Even Jack, thin of musculature but not usually of skin, was now blushing.

“How would I know?  I don’t recall ever touching an intact one.”  The voice dropped an octave.  “But I’d love to find out.”

Both faces brightened.  The blushes faded.

“I agree:  it would make a good start.  And today is hot enough.  But wouldn’t that be a bit obvious?…

“They’re older than your nephew, but do you think they would get the idea?  What if they don’t?  It’s different than a nephew.  They’re not related to us at all.  If I had to reach into their pants to get them started —”

“Huh!” Carl snorted.  The brothers grinned at each other.

“Okay, call me greedy.  I want them both at once…

“Well, maybe, but it could also be a heaven-sent opportunity.  I know how touchy men are about other men.  These guys still jerk off together.  I bet they’d go strong for the same woman if I could just get them started.”

“Jesus Christ!” Jack muttered in awe.

“Show them my what?”  The woman’s tone lost its speculative banter.  “Clara, I guess I’m just not brave as you.  I’ll try your first idea, but if they don’t tumble …  No, way!  I’m not that desperate!”

She laughed.  “Maybe I will, Clara, but don’t bet on it.  In the meantime surely you can find two nephews.  Will you drop by this weekend?”

Carl raised a knee and hissed, “She’s about to hang up!”

“Well, I’ll see you then.  Of course I’ll let you know!  What else do we have to brag about?  Good-by, Clara.”

Snatching up his trowel, Jack hurried around the less windowed front of the house with Carl trundling the wheelbarrow quickly behind.  They began immediately to pull weeds from among the densely set flowers, though hardly a minute too soon.

The nearby garage door rumbled as the motor lifted it slowly on its tracks.  Their mistress ducked under it and turned to regard them, hands on her well-rounded hips, brunette hair loose on her shoulders.  She was of medium height with mature breasts, belly and hips, dressed this morning in an unbuttoned man’s white shirt with the tails tied before her and Bermuda shorts that concealed the early cellulite the twins had spotted on their single previous opportunity to study her in a swim suit.  She had brown eyes in an unmade oval face.  Her complexion was smooth except for tiny wrinkles in the corners of the eyes.

“Good morning, Ms. Harper,” said Jack, the closer.

“What are you boys doing here?” she objected.  “You’re supposed to pull weeds in sunlight, not shade.  You should be working on the east side in the morning.”

“The east side?” repeated Jack.

“You’re just starting, aren’t you?  Move over to the east side this morning and come back here this afternoon.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She watched them roll the wheelbarrow toward the front of the house.  When they had rounded the corner, Jack breathed, “That was close!”

“What do you mean?” asked Carl, also speaking quietly.

“We were supposed to work the east side!  She remembered it when she hung up the phone and went to see if we overheard her.”

“God!  Like, Termination 101.”

“Huh-uh.  She thinks we were on the wrong side of the house.”

After a few steps Carl wondered, “You really think she was talking about us?”

“You see anybody else jerking off in the pool?”

“God!  Watched us through binoculars!”

“You heard her:  it made her drool.”

“Yeah.  She makes me drool, too.”

“She will when she puts those melons in your mouth.”

Rounding the east corner, Carl wondered further, “You believe she meant any of it?”

“Wait and see.”

“Both of us at once?  Huh!  She’s just kidding around.”

Jack shook his head.  “She’s tried that before, I bet, and liked it.  It’s the strongest reason to think she really means it.”

Carl thought it over.  “Wonder who with.”

“Be sure to ask her that.”

They knelt again in the eastern flower bed.  When the weeding was well resumed, Carl shook his head and said with quiet determination, “No, it was just talk.”

“Was it?”

“A woman like that?  You heard her the other day.  She’s exactly twice our age.”

“So what?”

“So a woman that old’s not interested in us.  Not really.”

“She said she was drooling.”

“Yeah, but think about all of it.  She was just holding up her end with her friend, this Clara that scored with the nephews.  It’s like you bragging about Connie.”

Jack paused to regard his brother.  “Are you trying to talk yourself out of something?”

“Not me.  You!”

Jack grinned slowly.  “What’re you afraid of?”

“Losing this job.”

Jack agreed thoughtfully, “That would hurt.”

“Just remember:  she’s not Sherry.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning don’t rub her ass the next time it’s close enough.”

Jack shook his head.  “Okay.  I’ll wait for her to rub mine.”

 

  *  *  *  *

 

“Thirsty?”

Jack looked up from his trowel into the woman’s smile.  She was dressed in the same shirt and shorts and had approached barefooted over the grass, bearing a tall, beaded tumbler in each hand.  Ice tinkled faintly as she stood waiting.

“You know it!” Jack declared with feeling, rising to his feet and calling behind him, “Carl, look here!”

The brothers each accepted a glass:  orangeade, sweet and cold.  The woman folded her arms and smiled as they drank.

“Hits the spot!” said Carl passionately with his glass half-drained.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jack added.

“It’s good, then?” she asked.

“Delicious!”

Her smile broadened.  She laid a shockingly cold hand lightly on his upper arm.  “I saw how you’re sweating.  You don’t have to weed it all at once, you know.  The wheelbarrow is almost full.  Why don’t you take a break?”

“We thought we’d finish this bed before lunch.”

Her hand kneaded his muscle.  She mused, “Your bodies just gleam in this bright light.  But you’re both bareheaded.  Did you never hear of sunstroke?  You ought to take a dip in the pool and cool off.”

Carl grinned.  “That sounds good!”

“You brought your lunches?”

“A couple of sandwiches,” Jack admitted.

“I’ll contribute a few goodies,” she said with an inviting smile.  “Let’s have a luncheon picnic.”

“A picnic?  Where?”

“At the pool.”  She regarded Jack archly.  “That is, if you don’t mind eating with the boss.”

“Not when it’s her idea!” he responded enthusiastically.

“Good!  I thought you might agree.  Leave these tools for later and come around to the kitchen.  I’ve made up a basket.”

 

  *  *  *  *

 

At her direction they set the basket on the table with the canopy.  She grinned at them as she removed the covering cloth.  She inclined her head toward the sparkling blue water.  “Why don’t you take a dip and cool off?”

Brother looked at brother.  Jack said hesitantly, “We, uh, we don’t have suits.”

“You don’t?”  She frowned.  “I’ve glanced out here from the house and seen you swimming.  Oh.  You mean you didn’t bring your suits today.”

“Actually we don’t own any.”

The frown became a cocked eyebrow.  “You mean you skinny dip?”

Carl blushed.  Both looked away.

“Well, I don’t care,” she averred airily, beginning to remove objects from the basket.

Jack winked at his brother and said wistfully, “It does look cool!”

“Oh, go ahead!” she ordered, eyes on her work.  “You need to cool off.  I won’t look.  And even if I did, I’ve seen men before.”

Zippers hummed and they stepped out of their frayed jeans without further comment, tossing the garments toward another table.  Pocket contents thudded on the wooden surface.  They turned and in two strides entered the water side-by-side with nearly splashless dives.  The woman’s eyes fixed briefly on narrow male buttock cheeks, tanned but paler than the skin of back and thigh.  She licked her lips and watched as they raced to the other end of the pool, dropping eyes to her work only when they reversed to return.

They levered themselves out of the water and came dripping directly to her table.  Carl’s hands hovered close to his pubes, ready for quick concealment, but she carefully kept her eyes raised.

As they neared, she handed each a towel.  “Dry your face and hands and have a seat.”

They obeyed her, standing on either side.  Jack peered through the folds of cloth over his face and saw her gaze descend.  He deliberately leaned forward enough for his genitals to dangle past the table edge.  Her lips parted.  Suppressing a grin, he pulled up his chair and sat.

She produced cloth napkins, tumblers, a bowl of ice and a pitcher, beaded with condensation, that proved to contain iced tea.  She poured their drinks and served them without asking.

“Where are your sandwiches — in the cabana fridge?”

Jack admitted they were.

“Go get them if you wish.  Or you can try mine.  I have tuna salad with cucumber and roast beef with horse radish.”

Carl’s eyes brightened.  “Roast beef?”

“Coming right up.”  She passed him a plate containing a sandwich stuffed thickly with meat.  “Your name is Carl, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.  Thank you.”

“Here’s ketchup and mustard.”  She glanced at his brother.  “And you’re Jack?”

“That’s me.”

“Will you try the tuna salad?  Or I’ve got another roast beef.”

“Tuna salad is my favorite.  How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“The exact kind of sandwiches we prefer?”

Passing him his plate, her eyes twinkled.  “Sometimes I overhear you.”

Carl’s eyes widened.  He glanced furtively at his brother.

She uncovered a plate and sandwich for herself, apparently egg salad.  She ate it daintily with small bites.

Jack said thoughtfully around a mouthful of food, “That’s funny.”

She raised her chin.  “You mean the tuna?  I’m sorry.  Its quality has got so variable.  Try this roast beef instead.”

“No, no, the tuna is great!  I mean about you overhearing us.  I could swear we’ve never mentioned food when we worked near the house.”

She smiled and nodded, waiting to swallow before replying.  “It was probably during a lunch break.”

“But we always eat lunch at the pool.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Jack almost asked her how she might have heard them, but Carl was beginning to blush obviously despite a deep tan.  He said hastily, “We don’t talk much when we’re next to the house.  Mr. Harper said you sleep late.”

“Sometimes,” she agreed, “though I’ve been having trouble lately.  Not your fault.  At least not directly.”  She smiled, regarding Carl speculatively.  He dropped his eyes, taking another large bite of his sandwich.

“We carry on some at the pool,” Jack said, carefully selecting the juiciest part of his sandwich for the next bite.  He looked up guilelessly.  “Does that bother you?”

Her eyes glittered on his.  “Not a bit.”  She took a swallow of her tea.  “Tell me about yourselves.  Archy — Mr. Harper — hardly described you.”

Jack shrugged.  “Not much to tell.  We’re nineteen;  twins, you know;  rising sophomores at State Tech.”

“Twin brothers!  That must be nice, growing up together.”

Jack nodded.  “It has its advantages.  Have you heard about B.I.B.B.?”

“Bib?  What’s that?”

“An old Viking saying our mother taught us:  ‘Bare is brotherless back.’”

She stared at him.  “Are the schools becoming so vicious as that implies?”

He shrugged.  “How can we tell?  I only know Carl and I had less trouble with bullies than most.”

“I imagine so.  How does it work with girls?”

“They’re curious about us.”

“What do they ask you?”

“If we’re gay.”

Her stare softened into a chuckle.  “I can guess how you answer.”

His grin faded.  “Can you?  We’re not, you know.”

“Well, of course not!  I meant that you probably offer them a demonstration.”

He laughed.  “Like, ‘Want to try us?’”

She smiled.  “Or, ‘Come home with us and see.’”

He shook his head.  “We live with our aunt.  She says no girls.”

“A cautious one, is she?  Then how about, ‘Come with us to the Harpers’ pool?’”

His eyes widened.  “You wouldn’t mind?”

She grinned.  “Don’t quote me on that.  Want another sandwich, Carl?  Or would you like a slice of cherry pie?”

“Cherry pie!” he exclaimed.

“You really have overheard us!” Jack commented.  He straightened up in his chair as Carl stiffened also.  He suggested, “You must’ve come to the pool one day.”

Her eyes twinkled as she shook her head.  “I didn’t have to.”

“Then do you read lips?” Jack wondered.

She laughed briefly.  “There’s a slice for each of you.”  She unwrapped a cloth from two pieces of pie and lifted one toward each male plate, apparently unconcerned by her bare hands.

Jack intercepted his.  In the transfer between hands her forefinger inadvertently dug into the side of the red filling.  Suddenly inspired despite the risk, his other hand caught her wrist and, as he leaned toward her, brought the finger into his mouth.  He sucked it clean, licking under the long nail while he stared into her eyes.

Her eyes twinkled.  “Sweet enough for you?”

He released her and said solemnly, “Wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

Carl glanced at him admiringly.

“I don’t think you will,” she retorted, then regarded Carl.  “Seriously, is it good?”

“Super,” he answered despite a red mouthful.

She turned again to Jack.  “I’m waiting to hear your opinion.”

He lowered his slice gently to the plate.  “I’ve got another bite of tuna, but I liked that little taste.”

She cocked an eyebrow.  “Did you!”

“Ms. Harper, how —”

“Call me Jane.”

“Jane?”

“At least while we’re having lunch together.  What did you want to ask?”

“How you overheard us.  I remember talking about favorite pies.  That was the other day when it rained and we ate in the cabana.”

She nodded.  “I believe you’re right.”  Her mouth widened in a slight smile.  “As I recall, cherry was said to be your second choice.”

He stared at her, ignoring Carl’s fidgeting.  How, Ms. Harp— Jane?  Were you hiding in there?”

She chuckled slightly, grinning around at both brothers.  “You truly don’t know?  Didn’t Archy show you the intercom?”

“The … the intercom?”

“It’s on the wall in plain sight, right over the bunk.”  She craned her head, peering under the canopy.  “You can see it from here.”

He said weakly, “We didn’t … know it worked.”

“Archy installed it in case Lacey should call for help while she was swimming.  Have you met Lacey, Archy’s daughter?  No?  Well, you probably won’t.  Her mother gets her after summer camp.”  Calmly the woman took another bite of her sandwich.

“Does it … work all the time?”

“All the time?  Well, no, you have to turn it on in the house.  But it has a call button that beeps anytime.”

“J-Jane …  You heard us talking about pies.  God!  I hope you didn’t hear anything that embarrassed you.”

“It’s been very interesting.”  She smiled benignly.  “I had forgotten how intensely young men fixate on females.”  Her glance turned to his brother.  “Carl, don’t be embarrassed.  I think your fascination is very natural.  It certainly doesn’t lower your standing with me!”

“It doesn’t?” Carl asked, red face glistening.

“No, it doesn’t.”  She laid her hand atop his.  “And you blush prettily.”

Jack pushed back his chair, started to stand up, then fell back into it.  He took a breath and declared, “I’m surprised you didn’t tell Clara what you heard, too!”

Her eyebrows rose.  “So!  You did overhear me this morning!”  She frowned.  “But you were on the other side of the house.”

Jack shook his head.  “We scooted around there so you wouldn’t think we heard you.”

“Did you!”  She studied him.  “Afraid for your job?”

“Yeah.”

She took a breath and grinned.  “I meant for you to hear me.”

“What?  You what?”

“I wanted to see what you’d do.”  She snorted.  “I certainly didn’t mean to scare you away!”

“What do you expect us to do?”

“Do you have to ask?”

He stared at her.  Carl swallowed the remains of his pie and asked incredulously, “You mean you really want us?”

Suddenly her expression went blank.  She looked from Carl to his brother.  “Is it possible you guys think I’m too old for you?”

“Too old?” repeated Jack, eyes widening.

“Oh, no —” Carl began.

“Because if you do —”  The woman stood up suddenly.  “I’m going swimming, too.”

The knot in the front of her shirt flew apart.  The elastic of her shorts slipped over her hips.  Almost before the open-mouthed audience could blink, she stood naked, her two items of clothing fallen to the concrete.  Her tan was faded but even.  Pendulous breasts with small dark nipples swayed above a waist of mature thickness and wide feminine hips.  The wiry pubic bush was untrimmed.  She padded past them to the pool edge.

“Come on,” she ordered, gesturing right and left.  When they stood beside her, she added, “Last one to the end of the pool and back is the old maid.”

She dove and they followed instantly.  She swam powerfully, cleanly and to their particular surprise, slightly faster than their best effort.  She was slower at levering herself out of the pool, however, which allowed the brothers to stand up beside her almost simultaneously on the concrete lip.

She grinned at them and crowed between draughts of breath, “I’m not sure … who’s the old maid … except that it’s not I!”

Jack shook his head.  “How the hell could you beat us?”

“Twenty years ago … I was on the Olympic team.”  She took a breath to laugh.  “But now … if the pool was … ten meters longer … I wouldn’t have finished.”  She threw her arms around both of them and drew them against herself.  “And you’re not even breathing hard!”

The same idea occurred to each brother.  Each raised a hand and cupped the nearer breast.  The woman looked down at the rasping palms then up curiously into the intent faces.  She withdrew her arms from around their backs to slip below the hard, flat bellies and grasp a rising manhood in either hand.

She smiled possessively.  “At least I don’t have to reach into your jeans.”

“Oh, god!” murmured Carl, standing frozen as her thumb and forefinger pinched his glans knowingly.  Jack’s free hand curled under her buttocks and explored the hairy furrow from behind.  In reaction she bent slowly forward, making herself more accessible to it.  She tongued Carl’s navel in passing.  Shortly her fingers slid lower on his shaft to make room for her mouth.

The slim brother took himself in hand and stooped enough to nuzzle the upturned slit, shallowly at first, gradually deeper.  Soon his strokes reached maximum.  Beyond the smooth, female back the woman’s head turned sideways to his brother’s pubes, where it bobbed rapidly back and forth, long wet hair flying.  Her hand clasped the dependent testicles.

Carl stood flat-footed, eyes closed, teeth clenched, tendons prominent in his neck, occasionally twitching.  He groaned in a tight throat.  Instantly the woman’s head became still but did not withdraw.

Jack warned, “Don’t let her suck you dry.”

Carl’s response was to shudder in a ripple that passed over his whole body.  After groaning again, he muttered through clenched teeth, “She’s not sucking.”  As he spoke he began to thrust with his hips.

Jack saw that the woman’s cheeks had ballooned outward:  truly a “blow job!”  But Carl’s thrusts lacked precision;  a too-ambitious withdrawal streaked the side of her face with watery semen.  She recaptured the crimson knob, but its owner was soon finished.

She stood up straight, breaking contact also with Jack, and turned to face them.  A hand rose to wipe her cheek.  She stared at the results and began to laugh, eyes twinkling at Carl.  “Well, I almost got it all!”

“You meant to?”  Jack stared at her in fascination.  “Aren’t you going to spit?”

“And waste tasty young sperm?”

“Waste?”  He repeated incredulously.

She retorted positively, “It belongs in a woman.  Besides, I like the aftertaste.”

His mouth fell open.  She chuckled, smacking her lips.  Then her gaze dropped to his glistening erection.  A hand swiped her pubes and was held up for inspection.  “You didn’t come.”

“Neither did you.”

“No, but we will.”

Her attention returned to Carl, who stood, chin sagging, hands dangling, otherwise unwilted.  She smiled in approval.  “I told Clara the truth, didn’t I?”  Her hand grasped him just behind the knob, palm turned to capture the remaining dribble.

Jack asked, “About us?”

“About your perpetual erections.”  She leered at him as a drop of his brother’s semen fell from the side of her chin.

He snickered.  “And drooling.”

She grinned, released Carl and raised the wet palm to her face.  She licked it ostentatiously while staring into his eyes.  Her other hand enclosed his almost painful erection.  She leaned against him with parted lips.  “Kiss me!” she commanded.

He caught a breath and, despite a sudden hollowness in his belly, met her lips with his own.  Of course she thrust her tongue immediately into his mouth.  The faintly nutty taste was unmistakable.  But his rising gorge was covered by the cool skin of her soft belly and the feel of her hard nipples against his chest.  Her fingers withdrew his foreskin and the normally protected glans tingled in the hair that parted around her clitoris.  Sexual tension overrode all other concerns.  His tongue followed hers back between her teeth.  The taste strengthened but so did his excitement.

When their mouths parted, she asked with a smirk, “Was that so bad?”

“God damn!” he retorted, but it was not a curse.

She laughed.  “Strong stuff, isn’t it?”  She took Carl’s hand.  “We need a bed.  Come on into the cabana.”

She fumbled in the picnic basket and emerged with a tube that Jack recognized as lubricating jelly.  They followed her into the little building, Jack pressing close enough for his penis to stroke her hip.  She chuckled at the feel and released Carl to trail the hand into his brother’s testicles.  She promised over her shoulder, “I’ll get this juice, too.”

“It’s about to pop already.”  Jack’s voice was strained.

She spun around in front of the bunk and put a hand on his shoulder.  “You can pop right away where I put it, but when you do, don’t pull it out.”

His eyes widened.  “You have to pull out when you pop!”

“Not there.  You’ll see.  It won’t squeeze.”

“Won’t squeeze?”

But she had pulled Carl against her.  She ground her breasts into him while her hand dropped between them.  Her eyes lit.  “Still firm as ever, how marvelous!  But will it work in a sandwich?”

“A sandwich?” Carl wondered.

“You’re the strongest, so you get to be the bottom slice.”  She grinned and stepped aside.  “Lie down on your back.”

When he had obeyed, she threw a leg over him and squatted facing him at his midsection, heavy breasts swaying.  She sank upon his hips while her hand introduced him firmly into her hot center.  She bounced a couple of times and grinned.  “How’s that?”

His eyes were fixed on her breasts.  His hands reached to cup them.  “Wow!”

She chuckled and turned to Jack, extending the tube of jelly.  “Slather this on yourself really thick from root to tip.”

He reached for the tube but her eyes had fallen to the straining erection.  “On second thought,” she countered, “let me do it.  Come closer.”

He put a knee on the bedside as she opened the tube.  She laughed when she discovered the upthrust knob nearly touching her cheek.  Her eyes narrowed up to his.  “I see what you want, but don’t you come yet!”

He gasped as her mouth enclosed him.  The organ thickened perceptibly at her first tongue swipe.  She immediately withdrew and stared up at him.  “You are ready!”

“Oh, god!” he groaned.

“This will slow you down.”

She squeezed out a handful of jelly and globbed it onto the head, letting her fingers trail it loosely down the shaft.  He winced at the cold contact, which did somewhat relieve his tension.

She wiped her hand on the bed sheet and directed, “Now come up behind me.”

“You mean …”

She leered.  “You’re the top slice.”

“B-but how —”

“I’ll lean forward, of course,” she said, suiting action to word.  “Carl doesn’t mind my boobs on his chest, do you, honey?”

Carl shook his head, staring past her at his brother.

Taking a deep breath, Jack mounted the bed over Carl’s knees.  At his hesitation the woman raised up enough to look over her shoulder.  “Go ahead,” she invited.

“I … want to see.”

She eyed him thoughtfully and chuckled.  “Rub some jelly on your finger.”

He touched himself with a forefinger.  She smiled and arched her back, raising her genitals higher in the curve of the buttocks cleft.  He leaned forward, studying first his brother’s organ half submerged in hairy female flesh.  Its angle stretched the smooth perineum below the wrinkled pink star of the anus.  Jack put out a hand and spread the buttocks cheek.

“Let me,” said the woman.  She sagged fully upon Carl as her hands flew behind her, one to each cheek, and separated herself wider than Jack had dared.  He stared at the distorted spectacle.

“What’s she doing?” wondered Carl, arching his own back to drive himself deeper.

“Pulling her ass open,” Jack responded, his fascination evident.

“Go ahead,” she ordered.  “I know you want to feel it.”

He brought the anointed finger forward.  It slipped into her effortlessly.  She twitched.  “Ooo, cold!”

Her sphincters clamped him when his knuckle touched.  “Feel that?” she asked.

“Yeah.  This is too small for me.”

“Only if I want it to be.”

Curious, he partly withdrew before reapplying fore and middle finger together.  Again she clamped him when the knuckle touched.  He added the ring finger with no more difficulty and looked up into an over-the-shoulder grin.

“Convinced now?” she asked.

Carl wondered, “What’s going on?”

Jack took a breath.  “I’ve got three fingers in her ass.”

Carl’s eyes widened.  “God!”

“I can feel your dick through her flesh.”

“Yeah …  I can feel you feeling!”

The woman chuckled.  “Sounds like you just discovered America.”

Carl blushed and Jack withdrew his hand as if stung.

Her amusement faded.  “Don’t be touchy.  Come on.  Put it in.”

Jack hitched himself closer.  Her flesh parted reluctantly for the swollen knob but after the initial resistance accepted the entire remainder of his manhood.  The minute of finger play had allowed evaporating jelly to reduce the organ’s temperature.  Both man and woman squealed in harmonizing registers, she at the cold rod suddenly in her vitals, he at the loose heat that enveloped it.  He immediately recovered the previous level of tension.

“Oh, god!” he cried.

“Go ahead and come,” she advised, adding with a gasp, “Just don’t pull it out!”

She began to roll her hips back and forth.  Jack went to long thrusts, tension peaking.  He groaned with each seminal spurt, straining to force himself ever deeper.

“What am I supposed to do?” asked Carl plaintively, but no one answered him.  The woman twisted atop him, lips drawn back in a grimace, breasts and belly grinding his torso.  Her contralto moans sang counterpoint to Jack.

Jack was pleased to confirm her prediction of orgasmic ease.  The anal sphincters closed on the base of the shaft, not on the sensitized head.  When his crisis was over, he even added a bit of thrust to the woman’s hip action.

Her moans soon died away and she lay quietly panting atop Carl, who had commenced his own thrusting.  Aware of it, Jack lengthened his and timed them to complement his brother’s.  “Can you feel me?” he wondered.

Carl looked up through the woman’s scattered strands of hair.  “A little, not as much as your fingers.  How about you?”

Jack nodded.  “Some.”  He crossed his arms on his chest and grinned down at his brother.  “Hey, this is a blast!”

The woman raised up slightly, kissed Carl’s nose and turned her head to regard Jack from the corner of her eye.  “Want to feel him better?”

“How?”

“Put in with him.”

“Good god!  You mean …”

“Yes.”

“You can … stand that?”

“I love it!”

When he withdrew, the woman fell still, again arching her organs higher.

Carl’s eyes widened.  “What’re you doing?  You don’t mean …”

“Ooo!” moaned the woman softly, eyes clamped shut.

“God!” exclaimed Carl, staring up at his brother’s determined expression.  “Are you all the way in?”

“Just about.  Tight, huh?”

“Full!” she said distinctly, shuddering delicately.

“How do we work it?” wondered Carl.

Jack suggested thoughtfully, “Maybe we shouldn’t pull out so far.”

She shuddered again.  “Oh, god, that’s good!”  Both felt her sphincters tighten powerfully.

“What a grip!” muttered Carl.

“She’s coming,” advised Jack.

Indeed she was.  Her body writhed between the men.  “Oh, god, fuck me!” she cried tightly.

Subsequent sounds were inarticulate, gradually increasing in volume. Her motions grew more frenzied, flesh pounding flesh.  They endured for two or three minutes until the unusual shape, tightness and resiliency against his organ stimulated each man to a second climax.  Carl climaxed first, to which Jack responded in kind.  As both concluded rigidly, the woman simply collapsed between them.

When Jack backed away, she rolled off Carl and sprawled on her back, breathing in gasps.  Her body gleamed in the daylight passing through the door.  Sweat puddled in her navel and between her breasts.

“God, what a fuck!” Carl declared in awe, rising up on an elbow to scan the  abundant female spectacle.  “Bradford will never believe it!”

Jack stood beside the bed and shook his head.  “You don’t know the half of it.”

“You did her asshole?”

“In about three shoves.”

“Wow!  I want to try that.”

“She’ll probably let you.  I think she likes it.”

The woman snorted between gasps, “Just … ask me!”

Carl tentatively stroked her wet belly.  “Are you all right?”

She smiled and stretched until a hand and a foot struck the wall.  “I feel great!”

Both men chuckled approvingly.

Her hands went to her pubes and she shook her head.  “But I’ll be sore tomorrow.”  She leered around at them.  “I’m not used to such vigorous attention!”

Carl’s expression showed worry.  “I hope we weren’t too hard on you.”

“Plenty hard!” she declared.  Her hand snaked over his extended arm to clasp his manhood.  “And still hard enough.  What a treasure!”

Worry changed to hope.  “Want to try it again?”

She raised up and kissed his cheek lightly.  “You bet, honey-bunch.  Just not now.”  She rose higher and extended a leg across him.  “I’m exhausted, sore and sweaty, according to my husband, as a Dallas whore on Saturday night.  I need a swim.”

“Good idea,” agreed Jack.

The three filed out of the little cabana and dove together into the pool.  As before, they swam to the far end and returned, but the woman no longer cared to race.  They beat her easily back to the verge and paused to await her pleasure.  She rose tiredly from the water and led them to the canopied table with the remains of their picnic.

She stuffed scraps, napkins and plates into her basket and looked around at them with a smile.  “I want to congratulate you guys.  And thank you.  You are two super studs.  I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

The brothers grinned.  Jack sidled against her, slipped an arm around her back and cupped the far breast.  He said, “You’re the greatest, Jane, the best fox in town.”

“I suppose that’s a compliment,” she retorted, catching Carl’s hand as it slipped his tumbler into the basket.  She pulled him against her so that she stood hip and shoulder between them.  Her hands immediately enclosed both male organs, flaccid at last.

Jack declared, “It’s a compliment.”

Head bent to watch fingers withdraw foreskins, she remarked, “These give the truest compliments!”

“‘Truest?’” Carl wondered.

“You can’t mistake what they mean!”  She chuckled deep in her throat.  “I can feel them responding already.  Complimentary indeed!”

Jack smirked at his brother, who also wrapped an arm around the woman to capture the other breast.

She smiled at their hands on her.  “Do you think we can get along, guys?”

They assured her so.  She added, “For the rest of the summer, maybe?”

Jack nodded at his brother and replied, “No problem.”

Her smile faded.  “Are you sure?”

“I can’t think of any.  You mean your husband?”

“No.  He always calls before he comes home.  The problem I’m thinking of is you.”

Carl was surprised.  “Us?”

“Who is Bradford?”

Carl looked at his brother, who cleared his throat.  “Oh, just a friend of ours.”

“A close friend, is he?”

“Well, yeah,” Jack explained.  “He’s working for the summer like us, except at a gas station.”

“And you tell him things he won’t believe.”

“Ah, uh …”  Again Jack cleared his throat.  “We don’t tell him everything.”

The woman released them to reach deep into the basket and remove a black oblong slightly larger than her fist.  She looked up from Carl to Jack.  “Just the good stuff, right?”

Their arms fell away.  Jack shook his head.  “No way, Jane.  We won’t tell anyone about you.”

“I hope you mean that,” she said soberly, “because it’s a summer of fun if you don’t but a summer of trouble if you do.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow.  “Trouble?  Who for?”

“Obviously for me, if word gets to the wrong ears, as it always does.  But if that happens, it will be even worse for you two.

“Now don’t get me wrong.  I don’t want to cause you any trouble.  I want us to enjoy ourselves all summer long, maybe even longer, and see no reason why we shouldn’t — that is, if you can restrain that urge to brag about plugging Ms. Harper’s ass!”

“About —”

“Or the rest of her.”

“Jane!”  He shook his head.  “I promise you, we won’t brag.  We won’t say a word.”

She regarded him searchingly.  “That’s right, you won’t.”  She held out the black object.  “Here’s the reason I’m confident of that.  Both of you should listen to it.”

Jack examined the offering.

“What is it?” asked Carl.

“A battery-operated tape recorder.”  Jack regarded the woman.  “You want us to play it now?”

She indicated the chairs.  “Go ahead.  I think you’ll find it interesting.”

The boys took seats together.  She sat across the table, watching them with slitted eyes.

Jack pressed the Play button.  The recorded voices were tinny but legible.  Immediately the brothers recognized the speakers and the circumstances.

His own voice:  “Sherry, did you think we sneaked you in here just to swim?”

A high, piping voice whose ownership would be obvious to dozens of patrons at the village malt shop:  “I’m not old enough to fuck.”

“Not old enough!  Don’t give me that.  I’ve got four fingers in you right now.”

“You know what I mean.  Ain’t you heard of seattle rape?”

“Seattle?  You mean ‘statutory?’”

“Whatever.  Skater explained it to me last week.  If a boy under 16 does me, it’s okay, because I’m under 16, too.  But you and Carl are 19, ain’t’cha?”

“Damn it, Sherry, you just got through blowing Carl.  Then give me a blow-job, too.”

“No.  You peed in my mouth last time.”

“You know it’s not pee, Sherry.  All right.  What is it you really want?”

Jack’s finger stabbed savagely at the Off button.

Carl grinned sourly at his brother.  “What did she get out of you?”

Jack glowered at the woman through the heat on his face.  His eyes narrowed.  “What if I just take this tape?”

She nodded.  “Go ahead.  I copied it for you.  You can have the recorder, too.”

He took a deep breath.  “What are you going to do with it?”

She grunted.  “That depends on you.  If you’re grown up enough, all I might do with it is listen to it again.”  She smiled.  “In some spots it’s cute, especially where she worked on Carl to get what she wanted.”  The woman shook her head.  “That little girl is already an accomplished extortionist.”  She smiled.  “I shouldn’t be surprised.  In my day it worked the same way.”

Jack frowned at his brother.  “What did Carl do for her?”

The woman grunted.  I don’t blab!  Ask him.”  She leered at Carl.  “Else listen to the tape.”

Jack shook his head.  “What did you mean, if we’re ‘grown up enough?’”

“Adults keep quiet about the good times.  At least they don’t mention names.”

Jack thought about it.  “You bragged to Clara.”

“You think so?  Only as a potential, and I didn’t say your names.  Clara was the one who bragged, but I think she was lying.  Don’t worry:  I won’t tell anyone about this afternoon — or what’s on that tape, either.”

“Then we … just go on as before?”

She leaned down and picked up her fallen clothing.  “You continue to maintain the pool and so on, as usual.  You still have your salaries and the use of the pool.  I don’t even care if you continue to sneak girls in here at night, so long as you keep it quiet and don’t turn on the lights — though I’d advise you to give that Sherry a pass.  She’s bad news!”

“But how about …”

“You two and me?”  Her eyes twinkled.  “I’m very much afraid your yard work just got a lot heavier.”

“‘Heavier?’”

“I’ve added a furrow for you to plow.”

“Huh?” Carl inquired.

Jack leered.  “In both directions, too.”

“Oh.”  Carl’s eyes lit.

The woman continued, “One that needs frequent watering and fertilizing.  And don’t forget that a plow has a tongue.”  She grinned at both of them.  “Do you think you can stand to work it?”

Their answer was inarticulate but convincing.

 

      END

 

 

kellis@dhp.com

Stories at http://www.dhp.com/~kellis