Chapter 15

She ate ravenously at lunch, putting away a platter of fries and a steak so thick, devouring a salad and three bottles of beer. Regina still felt a shade hungry when she stopped, but she also felt a little guilty, and smiled over at Dale across the table.

“All that sex makes me starved,” she said. “I have to build up my strength if we’re going to keep it up.”

Her son reached for her hand. “That we are, Mom. Just like Carey and his mother, I’ll bet. There hasn’t been a peep out of the Baker house all day. They’re probably still in the bedroom, fucking away like crazy.”

Regina smiled. “We can’t blame them. It’s a glorious sensation, screwing your own son.”

“And your own mother,” he said. “Mom—what are we going to do about us, when Dad comes home—and my sister?”

“I’ll just have to tell him,” she said. “I don’t think we can go through the seduction trap again, because there’s just no way we can have little Judy Baker lay your father. It’s not like it was with you and Stella, or me and Carey. We’ve hit a roadblock.”

Dale looked thoughtful. “Maybe not. Judy is no real straight chick. I haven’t gotten into her panties, but I know a guy who has.”

“But what makes you think she’ll do us a favor and screw your father? I mean, she doesn’t owe us anything, and I can’t go up to Judy’s mother and say how about Bill sticking your daughter, so we can get us all in the game. And come to think of it—that also means pulling Monica in with us. Monica is—”

“No cherry, Mom; believe me. She’s a lot like you, so cute and sexy that the guys follow her round with their tongues hanging out. Monica has been fucking her steady guy for a month or two now.”

Regina frowned. It seemed all too casual, discussing her daughter’s virginity with her son, but another mental look at the discussion made things more clear. Why be so phony, why be hypocritical at all, when the only way was to be honest—up front, as the kids would say?

“They’ll be back from the beach before long,” she said. “Maybe we should just sit down with Monica—all three of us—and have a talk. You’d lay your sister, wouldn’t you?”

“Damned right,” Dale answered. “Like I said, she’s a real sexy piece, a lot like you. And Dad—well, she’d go for him in a second. I can tell that. As for him, you’ve got him so turned on now that he’ll do anything you want, and he’s sure not going to turn down a chance to put it to Monica’s juicy young snatch.”

Nodding, Regina said, “I think we’ll all stay home tonight.”

Dale helped her clear the table and put dishes into the washer. Slipping his arms around her waist from behind, he pressed himself into her ass and as she leaned back into him, lifted his hands to hold her breasts. She felt much adored, the young bride in the arms of her lover.

That’s when the front door opened noisily, and Regina pulled guiltily away from her son’s embrace, knowing a sharp flash of resentment at any intrusion that would move him away from her.

Her husband and daughter laughed into the kitchen, wind-rumpled and scattering grains of beach sand. Bill swung the picnic hamper onto the drainboard. “Hi, Regina—Dale. You guys should have been along; we had a great time. Chuck and Judy tried the water, but it was just too damned cold for me, and Monica stayed to fix the food—”

Regina stared through lowered lashes at her daughter, seeing her perhaps for the first time as a complete woman, sufficient unto herself. The girl’s honeyblonde hair set off her liquid brown eyes to perfection, and her mouth looked just a bit smeared, as if she had been kissed hard, recently.

Monica looked back with a direct stare, and the set of her young mouth contained perhaps just a touch of arrogance. Was her daughter possessor of some new knowledge, some new wisdom that she wasn’t afraid to flaunt?

Glancing away, Regina caught her son’s eye, and Dale nodded. “Come on, Monica—you have to listen to this groovy new tape I got today—”

His hand on hers, he practically dragged his sister from the room, so his mother and father could be alone for a few minutes. He’d sensed what was coming, she thought, felt the vibes in the air and was making things easier for them.

She opened a beer for her husband and one for herself, wishing for something stronger. Sitting at the table, he fidgeted a bit, swallowed some cold beer, and brought out his words with a rush: “Regina—I have something to tell you. You know this morning, while you were sacked out with Stella? Well, Chuck and me got this great idea, and you two women were so happy there together, that we decided to leave you like that and—and take the kids for a picnic. The girls, that is. You see, Chuck and me—well, we thought that since swapping wives was so damned much fun, that maybe swapping—ahh—daughters would be just as big a blast.”

He ran out of breath, dropped his eyes and gulped beer. She stared at her husband. “And was it?”

“Was it what? Oh, yeah—a blast; yeah—sure, it was. You wouldn’t figure those kids—but they’re so damned sweet and young and sensuous, all at once. I have to confess that I screwed Judy Baker today. She’s a real redhead, too; the hair of her little pussy is like fire, but curlier, and—”

Her voice was sly, smooth: “And how was your daughter?”

“Just great!” he answered enthusiastically. “Only sixteen years old, and fucks like a mink! And when she starts grinding on your prick—”

Stopping suddenly, Bill looked down into his beer can again. “Okay; so we traded off, and fucked our own daughters. It was great, and I blew off more jism than I thought I had, once I got it into Monica’s tight pussy. And Chuck—well, he didn’t want to turn his kid loose. They kept screwing until we had to call a halt and get home. Look, Regina—you started all this fucking around stuff, so don’t get all pissed at me because I took it a step farther, just a logical step farther. And it’s not like either of those girls were cherries; they sure as hell weren’t. Monica bragged that she’s been screwing for almost two years now.”

She said, “So has Dale—but he claims I’m the best piece of ass he ever had.”

For a long moment, her husband didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle as the information sank in. Then his fingers clenched on his beer can and he banged it hard upon the table top. “Son of a bitch! And here I thought I was getting a step ahead of you.” His eyes found hers and clung. “Fucking your own son, are you? And the Carey kid, too?”

“Him first, the way you screwed Judy Carey first. It’s okay with Stella, though—she’s made it with both the boys, too. I imagine that Dale is in his room now, breaking all the news to Monica, so the little bitch won’t feel so superior.”

His head jerked up, “Now wait—”

She said, “Oh, I meant bitch as a compliment. I’m not jealous of her; I’m intrigued. Dale and I were planning on your fucking her, so nobody would have to hide anything from anybody else. That goes for the Bakers, too. I’m glad you screwed both kids, darling, that you broke the ice—if that’s the proper phrase—with your daughter. Now we can all ball together. Each of us has four to fuck.”

Bill said numbly, “You mean—Dale and Monica?”

She laughed. “Why not? Does that smack of incest?”

He shook his head. “Damned if I can understand anything that’s going on. Just a few days ago, I had this kind of nice, sometimes sexy wife, and everything was going along—”

“Boring as hell,” she finished for him. “Bill Abbott—are you going to tell me you’d like to have your sex back the way it was?”

He grunted, got up and popped the lids on two more beers. Handing her one, he said, “No way, baby. I never had so much fun in my whole life, and I’m not going to stop now.”